<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:25:34.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>23 Penguins</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-782582469524217005</id><published>2011-01-01T10:57:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T15:43:27.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled Hymn</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;New Year's Eve, and I was out running a few errands. Actually, I had just left my house and switched the radio from sports news (Rob had driven last) to music. Chris Rice was singing "Untitled Hymn." It was only a matter of seconds until tears were streaming down my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it was the memories of my friend David that it brought to mind - it's been a long year of grieving a deep loss that I still haven't found words for. I don't know if it's some middle-age thing I've got going on. I don't know if it's the turning of a calendar page and all that it represents. Maybe it's just the need to crawl up in the lap of Jesus and cry for a while. But there I was, driving up Depot Road, singing about every third word, sniffling, and wiping my eyes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;iframe class="youtube-player" title="YouTube video player" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0_hV8L65Rqo?rel=0" frameborder="0" width="480" type="text/html"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always loved this song.  No matter what kind of space I'm in when I hear it, I am always comforted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I ran into friends at the mall, walked around for a while, scarfed down some pretzels, and picked up a few things.  Then on the ride home I was hit with another song - which I'll save for another post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2011 finds me wandering into the new year with more questions than answers.  However, there is a comfort in the knowledge that the Jesus and his grace that has carried me this far, will certainly sustain me and carry me on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-782582469524217005?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/782582469524217005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=782582469524217005&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/782582469524217005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/782582469524217005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2011/01/untitled-hymn.html' title='Untitled Hymn'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/0_hV8L65Rqo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2388527141982148979</id><published>2010-09-30T13:34:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T14:20:33.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Damn Good Idea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/TKTP_J31NdI/AAAAAAAAANw/7qDyzEcb4Bc/s1600/gentiles+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 147px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522767726951871954" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/TKTP_J31NdI/AAAAAAAAANw/7qDyzEcb4Bc/s200/gentiles+and+me.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/TKTPRuUB0TI/AAAAAAAAANo/i3zgdlrF6go/s1600/gentiles+and+me.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;If it's because 2000 miles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Separated us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For the last 8 years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But I still expect &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To be able&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To pick up the phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And hear your voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I stare at your picture &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Or write on your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=636821380"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;page&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Willing you to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Still be alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And laughing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Smiling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Crying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Believing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In our calling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the God we served&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In Love being Bigger &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Deeper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wider&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and Stronger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Than anything life can throw at us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'll never forget picking up the phone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The day you called and asked me to come work with you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know if it was because you wanted my help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Or because you thought I needed yours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But it was a damn good idea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2388527141982148979?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2388527141982148979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2388527141982148979&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2388527141982148979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2388527141982148979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-know-dont-if-its-because-2000-miles.html' title='A Damn Good Idea'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/TKTP_J31NdI/AAAAAAAAANw/7qDyzEcb4Bc/s72-c/gentiles+and+me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2608482173852932227</id><published>2010-02-11T13:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T13:22:06.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Notice</title><content type='html'>In a funk.  Since December 14th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to find words again soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2608482173852932227?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2608482173852932227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2608482173852932227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2608482173852932227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2608482173852932227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2010/02/notice.html' title='Notice'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-4862505014693830958</id><published>2009-11-05T11:34:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T09:38:33.739-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Cardinals and Soccer Medals</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure if I have a "theology" about this or not. In fact, Rob and I discussed it briefly the other night in reference to the pigeon that joined the kickoff team for the Philadelphia Eagles a couple of weeks ago. One of the players claimed that the pigeon was the spirit of a former teammate who had died during the offseason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not willing to go so far as to claim that such sightings are the spirit of someone, but I sure as heck have been comforted by animals from time to time, that represent in one way or another someone to me who used to be with us. So what do I believe? Who knows and who really cares? The point is, it happens and we are comforted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, Austin and I were working on his homework in the living room. I looked up just in time to see the brightest red cardinal land on a tree branch outside the window. I have always associated redbirds with my mom. Whether she liked them as much as I remember her liking them is probably irrelevant... it's just part of her in my memory. Anyway, this redbird shows up outside and I immediately think of Mother. I point it out to Austin. "Mom, it's gorgeous!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smile and think how much she would have enjoyed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if on cue, Austin climbs up on the couch that backs up to the window and proudly shows his newly acquired soccer medal to the cardinal. I don't know why, maybe it's just a six-year-old thing; but I promise the bird turned and looked at him. Tears well up in my eyes as he has his own make-believe conversation with the bird. He has no idea what I'm thinking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool, comforting, and amazing moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-4862505014693830958?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/4862505014693830958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=4862505014693830958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4862505014693830958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4862505014693830958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/11/of-cardinals-and-soccer-medals.html' title='Of Cardinals and Soccer Medals'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2664947344900370567</id><published>2009-10-03T09:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T09:41:35.775-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello October!</title><content type='html'>The leaves are changing.  The Sox are in the playoffs.  Soccer and cross country are well underway.  Kindergarten is fun and 8th grade is smooth sailing (so far!).  And the Patriots are trying to figure things out.  Welcome to October!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I posted on FaceBook that October is paradoxical.  At least it is for me.  There are a lot of sad anniversaries for me in this month, yet so many fun things happen during this time.  The cool, crisp autumn air makes everything seem so alive, yet it is quick to remind us of the upcoming winter months that lie ahead.  The Sox playoff run brings hope of another World Series, yet... well, who knows? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm digging in to try and publish a collection of devotionals that I've written.  Right now, I'm just trying to figure out the best way to do that.  I've promised Austin that we'll decorate for Halloween tomorrow while Dad is at the Patriot's game.  And, as always, the house needs cleaning!  So we're in for a busy weekend, even though the games all got rained out for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy first weekend of October everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2664947344900370567?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2664947344900370567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2664947344900370567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2664947344900370567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2664947344900370567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/10/hello-october.html' title='Hello October!'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-7245225723533628853</id><published>2009-09-08T10:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T10:22:30.773-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus Was Right... Today Does Have Enough Troubles of Its Own ;-)</title><content type='html'>Austin begins kindergarten today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm the one who is as nervous as a cat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment of truth will be when the school bus comes.  I don't know if he will get on with a smile and a wave; or if he will stop, cling, and I'll have to take him to school and peel him off at the door.  I'm really praying for the first option.  I want a peaceful parting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I can worry about all the other things...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-7245225723533628853?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/7245225723533628853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=7245225723533628853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/7245225723533628853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/7245225723533628853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/09/jesus-was-right-today-does-have-enough.html' title='Jesus Was Right... Today Does Have Enough Troubles of Its Own ;-)'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-5332937138431549746</id><published>2009-08-17T10:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T19:01:45.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News for a Change</title><content type='html'>There's just too much bad news hitting the fan all the time it seems.  So today, I have to shout out the good stuff...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine who has boys that are friends of Austin's just found out that a biopsy came back benign.  Yes!  Yes!! YES!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta celebrate that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-5332937138431549746?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/5332937138431549746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=5332937138431549746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5332937138431549746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5332937138431549746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/08/good-news-for-change.html' title='Good News for a Change'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2024798474208274272</id><published>2009-08-06T06:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T06:57:34.041-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Morning Of</title><content type='html'>I am sitting in a darkened hotel room, with Austin sleeping in the bed.  Rob and Robbo are in the lobby eating breakfast.  It is 5:38 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than 3 hours, Robbo will run the 1500M race at the AAU Jr Olympics.  He has been training for this for months.  He has been waiting for this for over a year.  His body is prepared;  I hope I have done my part in preparing him emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is only thirteen.  I am forty-three.  This is a big race, a national race, no matter what age you are.  But I have years with me, I have perspective.  He is a young teenager, every day is bigger than life.  Every race defines you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why I have (I should more accurately say "we," as in his dad and I) kept telling him to "have fun," and "do your best."  It's why we remind him that "all athletes have good days and bad days."  It's the reason we are quick to point out the examples of great athletes coming back from poor performances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want him to succeed more than anyone.  But I guess it's only parental nature to want to help prepare him for any falls along the way.  I want him to know that he is good enough no matter what.  That he doesn't have to run fast or get good grades or score a lot of points or anything like that to be someone special or to be loved.  Just being himself is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So go, Robbo.  Go and run this morning.  Run knowing that you are loved by God and by us...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2024798474208274272?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2024798474208274272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2024798474208274272&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2024798474208274272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2024798474208274272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/08/morning-of.html' title='The Morning Of'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-7991194891339657313</id><published>2009-08-03T07:17:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T14:55:41.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thousands of Miles</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning to the sad news that Maggie Lee Henson is no longer with us.  Maggie Lee was a 12-year-old who had been fighting for her life since being injured in the FBC Shreveport bus accident in Meridian, Mississippi, three weeks ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no personal connections to Maggie Lee.  I don't know her.  I don't know her parents (although we travelled similar paths at Baylor and Southwestern).  But it could have just as easily be me sitting in that critical care unit - either as a patient, or as a youth minister, hoping and praying for one of my students to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't count the number of miles I have travelled on a bus carrying kids and chaperones.  Youth camps.  Retreats.  Choir tours.  Ski trips.  Mission trips.  Thousands and thousands of miles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no words.  A lot of questions.  A lot of gratitude.  But no words except these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go headlong into the arms of Jesus, Maggie Lee... go and giggle and dance!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-7991194891339657313?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/7991194891339657313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=7991194891339657313&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/7991194891339657313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/7991194891339657313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/08/thousands-of-miles.html' title='Thousands of Miles'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-6068795950489748840</id><published>2009-08-02T17:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T17:27:06.649-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindle vs. Books</title><content type='html'>Rob got me an Amazon Kindle for my birthday.  It should arrive tomorrow, so I am anxiously awaiting the big brown truck to pull up at the end of our driveway.  I'm not sure whether or not I'll actually allow the driver to take a few steps up the hill or whether I'll meet him as he hops from his always-open door.  The answer is probably as simple as whether or not we are home at the time of his arrival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am excited, as you can tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit, I have always been a lover of books.  Not just of reading, but of books themselves.  Books are friends.  They are a comforting presence, a sign of accomplishment, an open invitation, a collection of memories - both published and created.  I like to hold books, touch the pages, see them on the shelves.  I'm not sure how it will feel to just jump ship to an electronic version.  It feels like I am committing an act of betrayal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I am loving the idea of acquiring a new read in less than 60 seconds.  In having a newspaper waiting for me each morning.  Of not weighting down my backpack on a trip with multiple books (rather with 10.6 oz.!).  Of being able to pull out my Kindle and read without a thought of "now which page was I on?"  There are a lot of things that I am looking forward to with my new gadget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My bookshelves might start growing lighter as time passes.  But there are some "friends" that will always come to live on them in hard copy no matter what...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I do happen to read them on Kindle first!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-6068795950489748840?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/6068795950489748840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=6068795950489748840&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6068795950489748840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6068795950489748840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/08/kindle-vs-books.html' title='Kindle vs. Books'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-6878143113182903651</id><published>2009-08-01T08:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T09:06:12.734-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Day of My Forty-Fourth Year</title><content type='html'>Yeah, yeah... "today is the first day of the rest of your life."  That's true every day for every one of us.  But today, on my 43rd birthday, I want to intentionally make some choices about how I will spend my 44th year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my life is becoming somewhat my own again.  Not completely, because, well, it just isn't.  When you are a mom and a wife, you are not your own. ;-)  But Austin will start kindergarten in a month, which means I will have about two-and-a-half hours a day to spend of my own choosing.  I want to use that time to write, hone my coaching skills, read, be creative, and catch up on movies and music that have piled up during the last five years of diapers, playdates, track meets, and tournaments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, my fourty-fourth year will be just as fast-paced, if not more so.  I'm just trying to be more intentional with how I spend my "My" time.  And posting it here is one way to make myself accountable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day One:  Off to work on the book...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-6878143113182903651?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/6878143113182903651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=6878143113182903651&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6878143113182903651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6878143113182903651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-my-forty-fourth-year.html' title='The First Day of My Forty-Fourth Year'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-9050006364842404725</id><published>2009-05-06T17:15:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T17:22:38.549-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Judson Louis Hale, Sr.  (1937 - 2009)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SgH-r-3iXEI/AAAAAAAAAIA/_pw78bN2YN0/s1600-h/jud+hale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332823465347144770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 163px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SgH-r-3iXEI/AAAAAAAAAIA/_pw78bN2YN0/s200/jud+hale.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SgH-IYlNDKI/AAAAAAAAAH4/0kDOm1MUGLw/s1600-h/jud+hale.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For Mr. Hale -- Things I Remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been three decades and more&lt;br /&gt;Since I played daily in your yard&lt;br /&gt;And often ate at your table&lt;br /&gt;With you and Ms. Ann&lt;br /&gt;And Judson, David, and Missy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've strolled down memory lane&lt;br /&gt;I've realized how fortunate I was to know you&lt;br /&gt;To have best friends that called you "Dad"&lt;br /&gt;Which meant I got to be one of the kids in your village&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's the luck of geography&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were the countless evenings at Babb Park&lt;br /&gt;Cheering on whichever team Bucky and Diggy&lt;br /&gt;Were playing on at the time&lt;br /&gt;And rides in the El Camino up the hill to Dairy Queen&lt;br /&gt;To celebrate someone's home run&lt;br /&gt;Or just because someone asked if we could go and you said "yes"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember you being lots of fun&lt;br /&gt;But also knowing you meant business, too&lt;br /&gt;You commanded respect and taught obedience&lt;br /&gt;Which is probably why we scrambled and sweated all afternoon one day&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning up a powder-filled storage room, after setting off the fire extinguisher&lt;br /&gt;Desperate praying for the delay of your arrival home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time can do funny things to our memories&lt;br /&gt;Things that we remember to be larger than life&lt;br /&gt;Somehow seem smaller as adults&lt;br /&gt;However, there is one thing that I remember about you&lt;br /&gt;That time will never change&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the twinkle in your eye when you talked about your kids.&lt;br /&gt;I remember being 9, 10, 11 years old and watching your eyes light up&lt;br /&gt;Whenever you said anything about them.&lt;br /&gt;I knew you loved them.&lt;br /&gt;But I could sense that you &lt;em&gt;liked&lt;/em&gt; them too.&lt;br /&gt;How cool was &lt;em&gt;that?!?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all about the twinkle&lt;br /&gt;I can still see it when I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;And it reminds me that not only does my Heavenly Father love me&lt;br /&gt;But he &lt;em&gt;likes&lt;/em&gt; me, too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was blessed to have you play such an important role&lt;br /&gt;During my growing up years.&lt;br /&gt;And for you and your family, I will always be thankful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-9050006364842404725?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/9050006364842404725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=9050006364842404725&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/9050006364842404725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/9050006364842404725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/05/judson-louis-hale-sr-oct-31-1937-may-2.html' title='Judson Louis Hale, Sr.  (1937 - 2009)'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SgH-r-3iXEI/AAAAAAAAAIA/_pw78bN2YN0/s72-c/jud+hale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-3016117503943173061</id><published>2009-02-11T10:36:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T10:49:58.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Between Christmas and New Year's for the last four years, we have flown south (for the winter!) to see my dad and Nancy.  My sister and her family have driven down from St. Louis around the same time, so we have all gotten to spend some time together at least once a year.  It's been a great gift!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this year Rob and I took the boys to Sci-Port to see the model train display.  As we were leaving, I realized that Jeff Luce's business was only three or four blocks away (or at least it was the last time I went there - which had only been nine or ten years ago!).  On a whim, I had Rob drive by the "last known address" and I hopped out and walked in.  A few minutes later, a very suprised Luce greeted me with a hug and came out to meet my family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a very long way of getting to my point, but I liked the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Jeff suggested I join Facebook.  Enjoying the high of reconnecting with a friend from years-gone-by, I solicited a tutorial from my high-tech nephew when we got back to Dad's house... and wah-lah!  I became a FB junkie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You got it.  Hello.  My name is Christy and I am a FB-a-holic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, not for real, because I just don't have the time.  I have too many irons in the fire.  Irons with names like Austin, Robbo, Rob, travel basketball, AAU basketball, housekeeping, laundry, cooking, writing, reading, taxi service, playdate coordinator, etc.  But believe me, with a little more time on my hands, I would LIVE on FB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the connections I have made and am still making.  I only wish for more time.  I am not doing justice to the re-connections I have made.  There is so much to say, so much to write, so much to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for now, I will be content with the knowledge of how to get in touch with people only six weeks ago I had no clue how to find.  And slowly, one by one, I hope to let them know what they mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... off to Facebook!  ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-3016117503943173061?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/3016117503943173061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=3016117503943173061&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3016117503943173061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3016117503943173061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/02/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-4742915022539476063</id><published>2009-01-24T09:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T09:23:29.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Post...</title><content type='html'>Just read this on a friend's blog and had to pass it along:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ysmarko.com/?p=4567"&gt;http://www.ysmarko.com/?p=4567&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-4742915022539476063?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/4742915022539476063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=4742915022539476063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4742915022539476063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4742915022539476063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/01/amazing-post.html' title='Amazing Post...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-1429267880494957222</id><published>2009-01-02T15:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T19:07:31.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies Into 2009</title><content type='html'>Whoa. Where does the time go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see. Last time I was here, we were hanging out in a motel room in Chantilly, VA, waiting to head into DC for a family day of touring the rainy Capital city. Well, I didn't bring the memory card adapter, so hence, no posting of pictures that day. But the day after... Robbo and his buddies &lt;a href="http://www.robbosrunnings.blogspot.com/"&gt;won the silver medal &lt;/a&gt;at the Junior Olympics!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came home early Sunday morning to no power - a result of the ice storm that invaded New England. The temp inside the house was 39 degrees. The cats and turtles were cold, but alive; healthy, but definitely not happy! The power stayed out until late Monday evening, so we camped out in the family room in front of the fireplace at night. We were some of the lucky ones, however. Some Westford homes were not restored until later in the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Schools were closed for several days, so my precious "Christmas prep time" I was counting on while Austin was in school was severly limited to a couple of hours. Yikes. Rob was a huge help and played Elf several time so that I could get what needed to be accomplished all done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just returned from Louisiana last night, after taking a little detour on our way home since a storm cancelled most flights on the day we were to return. It's good to be home and I am looking forward to returning to some form of normalcy and routine soon. It really feels like I've been caught in a whirlwind for the last few weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-1429267880494957222?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/1429267880494957222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=1429267880494957222&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/1429267880494957222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/1429267880494957222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2009/01/time-flies-into-2009.html' title='Time Flies Into 2009'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-8226619032413475744</id><published>2008-12-11T06:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T06:41:50.995-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning in Virginia</title><content type='html'>After a very late night, Austin and I are up early (of course!).  He is playing airport on the coffee table while Robbo and Dad continue to sleep.  We'll head into D.C. in a little while, with no serious plan, except to hit the highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I do have a walking boot/aircast on my foot, so it's a bit easier to get around now painfree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post some pictures from the day later on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-8226619032413475744?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/8226619032413475744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=8226619032413475744&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8226619032413475744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8226619032413475744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/12/morning-in-virginia.html' title='Morning in Virginia'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-6418607654216896521</id><published>2008-12-10T06:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T06:12:36.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lows and Highs</title><content type='html'>I have our Christmas card name and addresses in an Excel document. Each year I try to update addresses through the year, but usually end up scurrying around to update the list at the end of November and throughout December. There are always names to add to the circle of family and friends and those who have died or I've just lost touch with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I finally and painfully deleted a friend's name. After 22 years of friendship. I probably should have let go a few years earlier: but as many of us tend to do, I kept holding out hope that fences would be mended. It's finally time to let go and move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reconciliation takes two. That stinks sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, the three men in my life and I are headed down to D.C. this afternoon for a little fun before &lt;a href="http://www.robbosrunnings.blogspot.com/"&gt;the big race&lt;/a&gt;. Keep ya posted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-6418607654216896521?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/6418607654216896521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=6418607654216896521&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6418607654216896521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6418607654216896521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/12/lows-and-highs.html' title='Lows and Highs'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2652267462729167853</id><published>2008-12-08T19:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:04:49.961-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Sentence Paragraphs</title><content type='html'>I updated both &lt;a href="http://www.robbosrunnings.blogspot.com/"&gt;Robbo's&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.adventuresofaustin.blogspot.com/"&gt;Austin's&lt;/a&gt; blogs recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snowed for the first time this season yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.hometeamsonline.com/teams/default.asp?u=WESTFORDTRAVEL7B&amp;amp;s=basketball&amp;amp;p=home&amp;amp;t=c"&gt;basketball team I coach &lt;/a&gt;won all three games we played this weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke my big toe yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We leave for Washington, D.C. on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbo runs cross country at &lt;a href="http://www.usatf.org/events/2008/USATFJuniorOlympicXCChampionships/"&gt;Nationals&lt;/a&gt; on Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is coming way too fast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2652267462729167853?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2652267462729167853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2652267462729167853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2652267462729167853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2652267462729167853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/12/one-sentence-paragraphs.html' title='One Sentence Paragraphs'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2129996405838250692</id><published>2008-11-16T11:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T11:53:14.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Around the Corner</title><content type='html'>It's only taken me a few years in New England to figure it out. When the "sticks" (as Austin calls them) go up on the fire hydrants, winter is just around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269296538289672370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SSBNSJzzkLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Pt3E6VG4Bu8/s320/downsized_1110081603.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The sticks are up. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2129996405838250692?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2129996405838250692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2129996405838250692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2129996405838250692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2129996405838250692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-around-corner.html' title='Just Around the Corner'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SSBNSJzzkLI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Pt3E6VG4Bu8/s72-c/downsized_1110081603.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-5707697996906638233</id><published>2008-10-26T20:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T20:11:33.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Is... A Series of Detours</title><content type='html'>Austin was playing independently for a few minutes this morning (I know, a minor miracle in and of itself!) with his construction toys.  As I was eating my breakfast, he popped up on the bannister between the kitchen and the family room and held up a miniature road sign.  "Mom.  What does this say?"  "It says, 'Men at Work'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of moments later, the same thing... "It says 'Detour'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's when you have to go a different way that you had planned to go.  You know, like when they are working on a road, and you have to take a different road?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh.  Yeah."  And he hopped back down to play some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you go a different way than you planned to go.  As soon as the words left my mouth, it occurred to me that it was also a good description of life.  Sometimes, things happen like we plan.  But most of the time?  Detours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God that life doesn't always happen the way we plan it... and that detours aren't always a inconvenience.  Sometimes the most incredible blessings happen on detours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-5707697996906638233?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/5707697996906638233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=5707697996906638233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5707697996906638233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5707697996906638233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/10/life-is-series-of-detours.html' title='Life Is... A Series of Detours'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-653780024531001204</id><published>2008-10-21T18:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T18:21:55.719-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Craziness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The last couple of weeks have accelerated into the world of non-stop craziness.  Without going into much detail, since the last post:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have become the head coach of the 7th grade boys travel basketball team (after a messy political drama from which I tried to hide, but kept surfacing as mediator and friend to both sides).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;All, yes ALL, of the invitees to Austin's Halloween party have responded that they will attend.  Yep, that's 20 - count 'em - 20 preschoolers in the house on Saturday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We had a wonderful long-weekend visit with Melanie and Richard (my sister and brother-in-law who live in St. Louis); and even got an extra night to be with them when their flight back to Missouri was cancelled!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Robbo has run in five cross-country races.  And he has two big races coming up this week - the Carlisle Invitational on Thursday, and the Mayor's Cup (a big race in Boston) is this Sunday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rob spent last week in Florida on a business trip, and is headed to Connecticut tomorrow.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;All that to say, each time I have sat down at my computer to think about posting, something else pops into my mind that needs to be done.  So my writing has dwindled.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But.  Life is good and I am thankful. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-653780024531001204?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/653780024531001204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=653780024531001204&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/653780024531001204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/653780024531001204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/10/craziness.html' title='Craziness'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-9195601366613182032</id><published>2008-10-04T17:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T19:58:20.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Pictures</title><content type='html'>Robbo scored the winning touchdown in the first of his &lt;em&gt;three&lt;/em&gt; flag football games today. He ran wildly out of the endzone back to his team with his arms outstretched and the biggest grin on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so easy to forget how it feels to be a kid. In the big scheme of things, it's just a football game and doesn't make much difference in the world. Which is how grownups (like me) tend to think of it most times. But to him and the rest of his team, it was pretty monumental and exciting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to get so caught up in the big picture that I forget the importance of the "little pictures"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-9195601366613182032?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/9195601366613182032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=9195601366613182032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/9195601366613182032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/9195601366613182032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/10/little-pictures.html' title='The Little Pictures'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-5415334990249443987</id><published>2008-09-29T18:18:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T15:59:29.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When Kids Think You Aren't Listening...</title><content type='html'>Robbo and Austin are in the TV room playing XBox360 even as I type. They are playing the demo version of "The Bee Movie" game. Here's the conversation I just overheard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Robbo: "Oh, so you've played this with Dad?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin: "Yeah." (laughter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbo: "What's wrong?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin: "He always gets mashed in this part!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbo: "So he's not very good?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin: (more laughter) "Nope. He's &lt;em&gt;terrible&lt;/em&gt; at this game!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I haven't tried to play it... He'd laugh me off the couch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-5415334990249443987?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/5415334990249443987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=5415334990249443987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5415334990249443987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5415334990249443987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-kids-think-you-arent-listening.html' title='When Kids Think You Aren&apos;t Listening...'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-4181108335278699519</id><published>2008-09-27T14:28:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T17:58:45.862-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dora at Church?</title><content type='html'>I took Austin to the movies this morning. The local theater shows a Nick Jr. (Dora, Diego, Backyardigans, and the Wonder Pets) movie at 10am on Saturdays. So this morning, Austin and I went to see &lt;a href="http://www.nickjr.com/shows/dora/index.jhtml"&gt;Dora&lt;/a&gt;. There were about 75 other preschoolers and parents there, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are not familiar with Dora and Diego episodes, they usually have some sort of mission/goal they are trying to accomplish. And along the way, they ask for your help... such as counting, finding objects, saying commands in Spanish, etc. After each request, there is a pause long enough to allow for a response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time Dora would ask a question, several preschoolers would respond audibly. As the show went on, more and more joined in the chorus, until almost everyone was participating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but wonder what church might be like if the congregation responded audibly to questions from the pastor or priest. Rather than just assuming the questions are rhetorical, individuals simply answered aloud. Something tells me it might be quite beneficial for all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And definitely more interesting! ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sing with me now! "Doot doo doot, doot da Dora..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-4181108335278699519?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/4181108335278699519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=4181108335278699519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4181108335278699519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4181108335278699519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/dora-comes-to-church.html' title='Dora at Church?'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-3779181980812762028</id><published>2008-09-25T07:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T07:06:27.809-04:00</updated><title type='text'>After-Dark Conversation</title><content type='html'>After lights went out last night, Austin was lying in bed and I was lying on the floor in his room. Following a few moments of tossing and turning, Austin piped up:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Mom, when is it going to be morning?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"After our body has had a chance to get all the sleep it needs." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Why did God make our bodies to sleep for so long?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I guess he knew that we needed lots of rest, so that we can have enough energy to play and have fun the next day." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"And run fast?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Yep. And to run fast." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Mom?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Yes?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Then why are you &lt;em&gt;so slow&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-3779181980812762028?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/3779181980812762028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=3779181980812762028&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3779181980812762028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3779181980812762028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/after-dark-conversation.html' title='After-Dark Conversation'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-3475563075026617251</id><published>2008-09-24T14:29:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:12:50.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chess Game of Politics</title><content type='html'>I came home after taking Austin to school today and crawled under the covers. Literally. Most of the time I sleep because I am exhausted from playing/chasing/correcting/teaching/holding/ feeding/entertaining Austin. Today I was hiding. I was excaping for just a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems I am being played (albeit minor in the big scheme of things) as a pawn in the chess game known as youth sports politics. I won't go into details because in a while from now it won't matter much anyway. But the thought that hit me on the way home today was "Wow. I've been out of the politics game for a long time. I didn't realize how freeing that feels, how a definite lack of stress accompanies that privilege." I don't like being back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being in ministry for a lot of years, I've dealt with plenty of political situations. It's sad, but the church has more than it's share. Almost anyone who works outside the home, faces those situations in the workplace. What leads us to be less-than-honest with those whom we work, play, coach, live, and interact?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, we tell ourselves it is in order to protect someone's feelings. But most of the time, politics enters the scene when there is something we want... power, position, prestige, etc. And the path of least resistence all-to-often leaves collateral damage in its wake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like being a pawn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-3475563075026617251?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/3475563075026617251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=3475563075026617251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3475563075026617251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3475563075026617251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/chess-game-of-politics.html' title='The Chess Game of Politics'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-9108020145009412519</id><published>2008-09-23T08:37:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T08:56:02.378-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Thankful Moments Weekend</title><content type='html'>It was a really fun weekend (even though my teams didn't win!). On Friday night, Robbo and I drove down to Hartford, CT, for the &lt;a href="http://www.baylorbears.com/"&gt;Baylor&lt;/a&gt;/UConn football game. We attended the Baylor pre-game buffet and rally, where I got to see several people I hadn't seen in probably 20 years! It was fun to reconnect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the game, we were among about 350 Baylor fans in the middle of a very large and very loud UConn crowd. It was a great game and lots of fun, even though the Bears came up short. Here's picture of Robbo with "Bruiser" - the Baylor mascot - during the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249195993302161394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SNjj8ckt1_I/AAAAAAAAAGA/yc-Sr56IFxg/s320/bruiser.jpg" border="0" /&gt; On Saturday, while the big boys were at &lt;a href="http://www.westfordflag.com/"&gt;flag football&lt;/a&gt; games, Austin and I went apple-picking up at &lt;a href="http://www.parleefarms.com/"&gt;Parlee Farms&lt;/a&gt;. We picked Honeycrisp, Fuji, and Gala... they are awesome! Austin loves the hayride that takes us out to the orchard. &lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249197044755859666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SNjk5pi0CNI/AAAAAAAAAGI/g_mcFIf3Vjc/s320/hayride920.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Then on Sunday, everyone went to the Patriots game. We tailgated in the parking lot beforehand, then walked through &lt;a href="http://www.patriot-place.com/"&gt;Patriot Place&lt;/a&gt; on the way to the stadium. The best moment of the day was when Austin commented, "Man guys, this is so much fun!!" I'll post a family pic when I get it downloaded. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As you can imagine, the weekend was full of thankful moments for me... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-9108020145009412519?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/9108020145009412519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=9108020145009412519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/9108020145009412519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/9108020145009412519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/thankful-moments-weekend.html' title='A Thankful Moments Weekend'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SNjj8ckt1_I/AAAAAAAAAGA/yc-Sr56IFxg/s72-c/bruiser.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-7936310797645884067</id><published>2008-09-16T16:40:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T07:26:08.885-04:00</updated><title type='text'>That's the Deal</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Austin and I were sitting on the couch one day last week. A thunderstorm - or "thunder-boomer," as Austin likes to call them - was beginning to roll through. We were playing a who-can-hear-the-thunder-first game. He was grinning and laughing, so I asked him, "You really like the thunder, don't you?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Yepper-doodle!" he exclaimed with excitement. The he became very serious. Lifting Blankie (his beloved blue flannel square) up, he announced, "Blankie likes only the lightning.  He doesn't like the thunder. He gets really scared of the thunder."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We kept playing our game for a while, and before we new it, the storm had passed. But the Blankie comment reminded me of something. Some things just can't exist without the other. Thunder and lightning. Joy and pain. Mountaintops and valleys. Happiness and heartache. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I'm a lot like Blankie. I like being on the mountaintop. I like being happy. I don't like the valleys and the heartaches. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But life is like that, I guess. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The movie “Shadowlands” is about the life of C.S. Lewis. In the movie, Lewis falls in love with the American poet, Joy Gresham. Later they learn she has terminal cancer. There is scene where she and Lewis are talking her imminent death. C.S. Lewis says he can’t imagine life without her; he can’t imagine the pain of going on without her. She tells him, “The pain &lt;em&gt;then&lt;/em&gt; (after she dies) is part of the happiness &lt;em&gt;now&lt;/em&gt;... that's the deal.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Later in the movie after her death, he is grieving. A friend asks him why take one should take the risk love if it hurts so much. Lewis responds:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“Why love if losing hurts so much? I have no answers any more. Only the life I've lived. Twice in that life I have been given the choice - as a boy and as a man. The boy chose safety the man chooses suffering. The pain now is part of the happiness then.... that’s the deal." &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thunder and lightning. Joy and pain. That's the deal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-7936310797645884067?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/7936310797645884067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=7936310797645884067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/7936310797645884067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/7936310797645884067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/thats-deal_16.html' title='That&apos;s the Deal'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2372658489226518782</id><published>2008-09-15T09:29:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T16:20:06.489-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Put Your Feet Up</title><content type='html'>You kick and kick and kick.&lt;br /&gt;Yourself, of course.&lt;br /&gt;How could you make&lt;br /&gt;such a decision?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't you choose&lt;br /&gt;to go back and give it another shot,&lt;br /&gt;to carry your riding-on-fumes existence&lt;br /&gt;back into the danger zone?&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't you have played it safe?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe just &lt;em&gt;safer&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;But give yourself some credit.&lt;br /&gt;You did as you were told.&lt;br /&gt;You didn't hang around&lt;br /&gt;to tempt the beast.&lt;br /&gt;That should count for something&lt;br /&gt;a lot, actually...&lt;br /&gt;You are alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now you are living in a far away land&lt;br /&gt;in the neighborhood of self-kicking,&lt;br /&gt;waiting for some kind of word.&lt;br /&gt;Any kind of word.&lt;br /&gt;For that would be far better&lt;br /&gt;than the darkness of the unknown.&lt;br /&gt;All the while, the surge of regret pounds away&lt;br /&gt;at your worn out heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take your boots off and rest.&lt;br /&gt;You can only make choices&lt;br /&gt;with the information you have at the time.&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can predict&lt;br /&gt;which way the wind will blow?&lt;br /&gt;Can you forecast the path of a storm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come on over.&lt;br /&gt;Put your feet up on the coffee table&lt;br /&gt;(where they really belong)&lt;br /&gt;and hear these words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not your fault.&lt;br /&gt;It is not your fault.&lt;br /&gt;It is not your fault.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2372658489226518782?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2372658489226518782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2372658489226518782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2372658489226518782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2372658489226518782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/put-your-feet-up.html' title='Put Your Feet Up'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-6170251959354335594</id><published>2008-09-11T18:02:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T18:46:59.177-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Day I Chose to Stay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I still can't wrap my mind around it. Seven years later, and it's still unthinkable to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's something that ties us all together. No matter to what degree we were affected by it, I doubt there is one person over the age of 18 who can't tell you where they were that morning when they heard the news. It's indelibly marked for all of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was teaching at &lt;a href="http://www.germainelawrence.org/"&gt;Germaine Lawrence&lt;/a&gt; at the time. I vividly remember walking the girls to gym class and hearing that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Thinking it was probably a single engine plane that lost control, I used the few minutes of free time that I had to call Jeanna and Paulette back at &lt;a href="http://www.riverbend.com/"&gt;Riverbend&lt;/a&gt; to see what, if anything, they knew of this event. Details were still sketchy at the time, although minute-by-minute a clearer picture was developing. By the time we got back to the dorm, the enormity of it all begin to come into focus. We spent the remainder of the school day trying to focus on classroom tasks, but the girls knew something horrible had happened and needed to begin processing it all. So we gathered them in the TV room and sat down to watch some of the coverage. I spent so much energy trying to help them process something that I had yet to grasp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked to the bus stop, the world was unusually quiet. No airplanes were in the skies, except for the occasional flyover by the fighter jets that had been scrambled to patrol. My fellow commuters waited quietly on the platforms and then sat in stunned silence on the subway trains. The bus to my neighborhood was detoured around the Westin hotel, because a majority of the bomb units in Boston were parked outside, checking the building since that is where it was discovered that two of the terrorists had stayed the previous night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time I walked into my apartment, I was numb. I grabbed a Coke, turned on the television, and sat on the corner of my bed. The sadness had yet to hit; mostly it was still anxiousness and fear. But I vividly remember the bottomless sense of loneliness that crashed into my chest while I was sitting there. I was six weeks and 2100 miles away from my closest friends.... the people who I would have found comfort with, who would have tried together with me to make sense of it all, who would have reminded me that in the middle of it all, God's love was still there. They were in Austin. And I was sitting alone in a shoebox apartment, less than three miles from the runways where Flight 11 and 175 took off, a block down the street from &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SMmft6uIKhI/AAAAAAAAAFo/VWB-AwEMdsU/s1600-h/813199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244898852255312402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SMmft6uIKhI/AAAAAAAAAFo/VWB-AwEMdsU/s200/813199.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SMmfPtGUpSI/AAAAAAAAAFg/er7Q3qqyxgw/s1600-h/813199.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;where one of the terrorists worked for a cab company, and that very moment the world had shut down. I was lonely and I was scared. And I wanted to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am one of the fortunate ones who was not directly impacted by the death of a loved one that day. But that day still left its mark on me. For in the moments of loneliness and fear on Queensberry Street, I chose to stay. Somehow, God's peace broke through enough each of the following days to remind me that I was here for a reason. And seven years and a wonderful husband and two incredible boys later, I am more thankful than ever... that I stayed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-6170251959354335594?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/6170251959354335594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=6170251959354335594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6170251959354335594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6170251959354335594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-i-chose-to-stay.html' title='The Day I Chose to Stay'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SMmft6uIKhI/AAAAAAAAAFo/VWB-AwEMdsU/s72-c/813199.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-5321721538855255009</id><published>2008-09-08T09:03:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T09:10:28.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Optimist</title><content type='html'>So Patriot fans everywhere are in mourning today, since it appears that Tom Brady is now out for the season...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rob is "depressed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbo thinks "they're finished."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Austin? Well, chalk it up to youth, or naivety, or whatever. But our conversation this morning was priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Austin, remember how Tom Brady got hurt playing in the game&lt;br /&gt;yesterday?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, he's not going to be able to play anymore this year. Do you&lt;br /&gt;think the Patriots can still win?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. There &lt;em&gt;ARE&lt;/em&gt; other people on the team, Mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ok. There you have it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-5321721538855255009?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/5321721538855255009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=5321721538855255009&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5321721538855255009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5321721538855255009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/optimist.html' title='The Optimist'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-3390044666259217930</id><published>2008-09-05T07:38:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T13:16:56.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Leaf Ramblings</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, while we were riding bikes, Austin brought me a red leaf he found on the bush next to our driveway. Ah... Fall will soon be upon us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never know quite how to feel about Fall. I mean, it's a great season; but it's also a reminder of what's ahead (which in New England means cold, cold, and more cold, and snow, snow, and more snow!). And that can be a lot of fun, too - sledding, skiing, etc. But Fall has always seemed to be a "dying" kind of season. People I dearly love and miss, died in October - Mother and Yac included. So it's tied to some painful anniversaries. I don't know... there's both a heaviness and a majestic sense at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let's be thankful today! Fall in New England means...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;football&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;insanely brilliant colors of leaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;apple-picking (complete with hayrides, cider, and friends)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;school routines&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;cool nights and gorgeous days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;cross country meets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;playground playdates&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;geese flying South&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;open windows&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;scurrying chipmunks in the driveway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;school buses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;pumpkin-picking and decorating&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;creative costumes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;parties&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;pennant races&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;bike rides and hikes through the woods&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm off to enjoy the moments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242506478384783378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SMEf3bjPIBI/AAAAAAAAAFY/PGj4LCjfiiw/s320/downsized_0904081025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-3390044666259217930?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/3390044666259217930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=3390044666259217930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3390044666259217930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3390044666259217930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/09/red-leaf-ramblings.html' title='Red Leaf Ramblings'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SMEf3bjPIBI/AAAAAAAAAFY/PGj4LCjfiiw/s72-c/downsized_0904081025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-8082968420911631197</id><published>2008-08-28T18:10:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T22:28:02.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctors-and-School Days</title><content type='html'>Tuesday was Doctor Day for the boys. Austin had his four-year well-check (complete with two immunizations - better known as SHOTS!) and Robbo had an ingrown toenail "fixed" (which kind of freaked him out, since I don't think he thought the doctor would do anything THAT day. But it is all well and good now.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin was rattled with the news that he had to get shots, but was very brave and calm. Later, as he and I were watching the doctor numb up Rob's toe, he whispered to me. "Mom, you know how you get scared when you have to get a shot? Well, when somebody else has to get a shot, I kind of get scared for them, too." I melted. He is such a sensitive and compassionate kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are times, like now, that I want to ring his neck! :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robbo started school yesterday. Seventh grade. Wow. I worked with pre-teens and teenagers for 15 years, but the thought of parenting one scares the crap out of me!! How do you make sure that you do it right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin had his preschool orientation yesterday, as well. He met his new teacher, Ann; and saw quite a few of his friends from last year. I'm glad he has those relationships already established as it should make it easier on both of us as school gets underway next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baylor plays Wake Forest on national TV tonight. Yea! I get to spend the evening - post-Austin-bedtime - watching the Bears. Sic 'em!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-8082968420911631197?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/8082968420911631197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=8082968420911631197&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8082968420911631197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8082968420911631197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/tuesday-was-doctor-day-for-boys.html' title='Doctors-and-School Days'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-3373976764330460052</id><published>2008-08-24T16:15:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T17:10:59.392-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend on the Sand</title><content type='html'>We've been down at the Cape this weekend. The weather has been fantastic! It's always refreshing to experience a change of pace and scenery. Here are a couple of videos of the boys at play yesterday afternoon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-36bf7287c3011613" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D36bf7287c3011613%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331529063%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1CBAA4CC096093293301FA2FDC4F804D59F7EA98.5F283B347A98454AEB838DDB3421AC29A4BF485C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D36bf7287c3011613%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBQ-IDFVIla6OZAIiymgFBq94REc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D36bf7287c3011613%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331529063%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1CBAA4CC096093293301FA2FDC4F804D59F7EA98.5F283B347A98454AEB838DDB3421AC29A4BF485C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D36bf7287c3011613%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBQ-IDFVIla6OZAIiymgFBq94REc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-61287223bcaf3460" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D61287223bcaf3460%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331529063%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D42F425481B8E60236DC1F7B444FC669276827562.640B59A883F72EB57800F9C5B1960561B3A68F3C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D61287223bcaf3460%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DhcEvygWD42a82gpgEGjP8ysx-Uw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D61287223bcaf3460%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331529063%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D42F425481B8E60236DC1F7B444FC669276827562.640B59A883F72EB57800F9C5B1960561B3A68F3C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D61287223bcaf3460%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DhcEvygWD42a82gpgEGjP8ysx-Uw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;On the drive down, with Robbo and Austin in the back seats and Bueller (our sweet little old lady cat) in the front, I was playing radio DJ. I switched back and forth from Sirius hits to 70's to 80's to 90's to contemporary Christian to kids stuff. However, when Prince's "1999" began playing, I landed on the 80's station. Robbo piped up after a few minutes, with a lot of sarcasm and a little bit of disgust... "the &lt;em&gt;music&lt;/em&gt; you listen to!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It's funny how music defines things. Decades, events, memories, ourselves, moods, movies. By simply hearing a few notes from a song, we are immediately transferred to another place and time, almost as if we are re-living the experience. "1999" put me back in the Fall of my senior year in high school, driving my two-toned Cutlass through the streets (and McDonald's drive-thru) of Minden, Louisiana. The years 1999 and 2000 seemed an eternity away back then... kind of like 2014 (when Robbo will graduate) seems now. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I have learned that life passes all too quickly. And the moments like the ones on the beach this weekend are priceless and to be treasured.  I am thankful for those moments.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-3373976764330460052?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=36bf7287c3011613&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=61287223bcaf3460&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/3373976764330460052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=3373976764330460052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3373976764330460052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/3373976764330460052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/weve-been-down-at-cape-this-weekend.html' title='Weekend on the Sand'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-6114967083423857872</id><published>2008-08-21T18:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T18:25:35.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Austin Funnies</title><content type='html'>Twice today, Austin made me laugh out loud. Well, actually probably more times than that; but two of them stayed with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 - We had the Olympics on television, field hockey was being played. Dad says, "Look Austin - hockey!" Austin glanced at the TV, then replied with a puzzled look on his face, "Where's the ice?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 - At dinner tonight, Austin was pressuring Robbo to be finished eating so they could go outside and play. He quickly counted the remaining items on Robbo's plate... "steak, one; cornbread, two; KOO-ZINI (zucchini), three."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like Koo-zini... Don't you?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-6114967083423857872?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/6114967083423857872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=6114967083423857872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6114967083423857872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/6114967083423857872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/austin-funnies.html' title='Austin Funnies'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-2091683013327118082</id><published>2008-08-19T08:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T15:45:59.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Days of Summer</title><content type='html'>"Birthday week" - as Austin called it - left me completely worn out! His birthday day was lots of fun. We opened presents early, then went to play putt-putt and eat at Pizza Hut. We spent the rest of the day playing with new toys and reading new books! His "friends" party was on Saturday at &lt;a href="http://www.jumponinfun.com/"&gt;Jump On In&lt;/a&gt;. It is a great place for parties, allowing the parents to play and enjoy the kids. Again, lots of fun. And I'm pooped...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am frustrated with my lack of time and energy to jump on the devotional collection book. And I guess I owe some of that to my love of the Olympics... I have had fun watching them when I should have been writing and/or sleeping. School starts in a week for Robbo, two weeks for Austin. I am looking forward to the routine of it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-2091683013327118082?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/2091683013327118082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=2091683013327118082&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2091683013327118082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/2091683013327118082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/birthday-week-as-austin-called-it-left.html' title='Dog Days of Summer'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-460629844824809191</id><published>2008-08-13T07:46:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T07:52:01.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'>He Sleeps</title><content type='html'>Today is Austin's birthday. And he's sleeping in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He never sleeps in. He hardly ever sleeps! Since the day he came into the world, he has consistently required less sleep than I do. And so today, on his fourth birthday, he is sleeping in. Hmmm... what to make of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This birthday is rattling me a bit. His first birthday was a little bit emotional - but probably more because I thought it was &lt;em&gt;supposed&lt;/em&gt; to be, turning one and all. Birthdays Two and Three were fun. But &lt;em&gt;Four&lt;/em&gt;. I'm not sure why, but this one is getting to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's growing up. He's more independent. He's able to outsmart me more consistently now. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Four is so hard, I'm not sure. I just know that it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(By the way, those of you who know me well, look at the time of this post. Yes, he still sleeps...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-460629844824809191?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/460629844824809191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=460629844824809191&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/460629844824809191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/460629844824809191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/he-sleeps.html' title='He Sleeps'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-8319053599764049296</id><published>2008-08-11T08:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T08:27:58.172-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"A Lot of Old"</title><content type='html'>Wow. It's been almost a week since I posted anything! In that time, Rob and I have gone to the Patriots first pre-season game, and all of us went to the Cape for the weekend (and had some friends down on Saturday!). Now we're headed into Austin's birthday week... full steam ahead!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished reading &lt;em&gt;Water for Elephants&lt;/em&gt; last night. I have to admit that a couple of times earlier in the book I almost put it down... it was very well written, but didn't "demand" my attention or my desire to read. But for some reason (probably because I had it posted here as a book I was reading and felt somewhat obligated to finish), I stayed with it. I am so glad I did! The last one-third of the story pulled me along and had me reading at every chance I found... on the beach, watching Austin ride his bike, inbetween rounds of Wii Olympics, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it is a great story of redemption and grace, in the midst of depression-era circus life. I found myself reflecting on several different aspects and elements of the story, which maybe I'll get around to posting. Definitely worth the read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, Austin and I were talking about him being three, almost four, when he asked how old I was. I replied that I was 42. "No, mom. I mean how &lt;em&gt;old&lt;/em&gt; are you... like I am &lt;em&gt;three&lt;/em&gt;?" I told him 42, and he still seemed puzzled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want me to count to 42 so you can see how old I am?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I counted. When I got to 42, he looks at me and exclaimed, "Wow! That's a lot of old!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I am a lot of old... :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-8319053599764049296?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/8319053599764049296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=8319053599764049296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8319053599764049296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8319053599764049296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/lot-of-old.html' title='&quot;A Lot of Old&quot;'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-4740983202397764299</id><published>2008-08-05T11:52:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T21:19:21.004-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Today feels like a Fall day to me... I'm not sure why, other than it's cloudy and cool. Oh, and maybe because I'm &lt;em&gt;sans &lt;/em&gt;kids for a couple of hours. Robbo is at a basketball camp each day this week, and Austin is at his "old school" to play for the morning. So maybe after a whirlwind of July days, it just feels more like school days. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Austin informed me this morning that he wants to be a Christmas tree for Halloween. Sounds like a good idea to me! I just have to find some green sweats and some Christmas lights that will run off of batteries. I love his creativity!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also starting to work on a book (probably self-published thru &lt;a href="http://www.lulu.com/"&gt;LULU&lt;/a&gt; - which I found out about through my friend &lt;a href="http://www.lulu.com/content/973357"&gt;Milton&lt;/a&gt;) consisting of collections of mostly previously written devotionals, with some new ones thrown in as well. I just got the files back from my nephew Colin, who I had hired to help me with some preliminary computer work. So now it's my turn to get after it! I hope to have something available by October 31 (maybe that's where Halloween came into the discussion!). There's another idea/project/book on the table, but I'll save that one for later discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go start playing Mommy's Taxi service... it's that time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-4740983202397764299?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/4740983202397764299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=4740983202397764299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4740983202397764299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/4740983202397764299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/today-feels-like-fall-day-to-me.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-1381485214501194401</id><published>2008-08-02T17:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T17:05:05.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Migraine-ville</title><content type='html'>So I've been fighting a migraine since yesterday afternoon.  These things really stink!  I've taken all the meds I can... guess it just has to run its course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of all of that, it was fun getting to see both boys participate in the track meet this morning.  Robbo finished second in the 1500M and Austin ran in the 50 meter dash and the 50 meter hurdles.  He is so proud to be able to "compete" like his big brother! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a whole lot to write today.  Most of the writing I have done has been with the intent to be read.  This blog is different.  I am writing for me... for the discipline of it, for the fun of it.  And if someone happens to get something out of it along the way, then that's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to watching (at least the first part of) the Sox play tonight.  It's the Manny-free era.  Bay surely looked good last night... Go Sox!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-1381485214501194401?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/1381485214501194401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=1381485214501194401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/1381485214501194401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/1381485214501194401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/migraine-ville.html' title='Migraine-ville'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-5529219150852739997</id><published>2008-08-01T05:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T09:26:54.801-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Flip-Side of Anger</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's my birthday today. And I woke up feeling angry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not because I'm "turning" 42. And not because Austin was up at 4:15 this morning, asking for a Pop-Tart. And not because I can't get the network to connect right now so that I can post this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm angry because life really sucks right now for a couple of people that I care about, and it's just not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason yesterday, when reading my friend &lt;a href="http://www.donteatalone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Milton's blog&lt;/a&gt;, I decided to click on the link and check out what &lt;a href="http://web.mac.com/drbrojo/Along_the_Road/Blog/Blog.html"&gt;John Brashier &lt;/a&gt;(one of the youth ministers who we once did a youth camp together with) has been up to. Upon reading his blog, I learned that Grant, his 17-year-old son has just been diagnosed with stage 4 Hodgkins Lymphoma. I caught up on their journey &lt;a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/grantdbrashier"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I emailed our mutual friend &lt;a href="http://lildavysharp.blogspot.com/"&gt;David Gentiles&lt;/a&gt; to make sure that he knew about it. I quickly got a response back saying thanks, and that Sarah Bickle (another mutual friend) had just called a little earlier to tell him that &lt;a href="http://www.thomasbickle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Thomas&lt;/a&gt;, her three-year-old who has been fighting a brain tumor, had just died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess after writing that, I'm feeling less angry and just really&lt;br /&gt;sad. I can only imagine what it feels like to be John and Lianne, or&lt;br /&gt;Scott and Sarah. I hurt for them and with them. And I pray that they&lt;br /&gt;will be able to sense God's comfort and presence in this day and the days&lt;br /&gt;to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the flip-side of anger is gratitude, I don't know. But I do know that life is precious. &lt;em&gt;That&lt;/em&gt; is what I am remembering on this birthday. And I am treasuring each and every moment with my two amazing sons and wonderful husband... both the fun ones and the frustrating ones. I am thankful for the friends and family who God has allowed me to share my journey with, and I am amazed at the love God has for me and for all of us, regardless of the circumstances we find ourselves in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-5529219150852739997?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/5529219150852739997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=5529219150852739997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5529219150852739997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/5529219150852739997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/08/flip-side-of-anger.html' title='The Flip-Side of Anger'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6131599731948734107.post-8043587222297411188</id><published>2008-07-31T18:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T18:13:09.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Maybe More Consistent Blog</title><content type='html'>We'll see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6131599731948734107-8043587222297411188?l=twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/feeds/8043587222297411188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6131599731948734107&amp;postID=8043587222297411188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8043587222297411188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6131599731948734107/posts/default/8043587222297411188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://twentythreepenguins.blogspot.com/2008/07/maybe-more-consistent-blog.html' title='A Maybe More Consistent Blog'/><author><name>Christy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14922901032236972844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_934C1YWRGlQ/SnIE2fLqvfI/AAAAAAAAAKk/q2a8PBaN4Mc/S220/blog+pic+23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
