<?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-3054687058989971634</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:27:59.262-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothergoosie's Goslings</title><subtitle type='html'>Hold On...Here We Go...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-6424132598094170067</id><published>2008-06-12T16:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T16:44:09.921-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Go buy a Frosty</title><content type='html'>Participating Wendy’s stores will be donating 50¢ of every Frosty product sold June 14th &amp;amp; 15th to the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption. The funds are being used to help the foundation find permanent, loving families for children in foster care, "so they can find rockin' Dads" as Wendy's celebrates Father's Day in a unique way. : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/Participating%20Wendy’s%20stores%20will%20be%20donating%2050¢%20of%20every%20Frosty%20product%20sold%20June%2014th%20&amp;amp;%2015th%20to%20the%20Dave%20Thomas%20Foundation%20for%20Adoption.%20The%20funds%20are%20being%20used%20to%20help%20the%20foundation%20find%20permanent,%20loving%20families%20for%20children%20in%20foster%20care,%20%22so%20they%20can%20find%20rockin"&gt;Check it out&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-6424132598094170067?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/6424132598094170067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=6424132598094170067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6424132598094170067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6424132598094170067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2008/06/go-buy-frosty.html' title='Go buy a Frosty'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-2026481102205641736</id><published>2008-06-11T19:48:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T20:27:12.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation Pictures</title><content type='html'>We went on our first vacation in FIVE YEARS last month. It was the first time the boys had seen the beach. I wil have to post some picture here and more later. I took almost 600 pictures with my new camera so it is very hard to pick my favorites. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBpbiFc0zI/AAAAAAAAAHk/P0bQdWqm3rI/s1600-h/P5050420.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210780690594714418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBpbiFc0zI/AAAAAAAAAHk/P0bQdWqm3rI/s400/P5050420.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids and our sweet friend Logan who went with us. We had a blast with her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBpA--4O7I/AAAAAAAAAHc/mo8VJjP0pA0/s1600-h/P5050396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210780234495310770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBpA--4O7I/AAAAAAAAAHc/mo8VJjP0pA0/s400/P5050396.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all built a sand castle or a sand village. I think the most fun was the kids breaking it down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBoJHe73ZI/AAAAAAAAAHM/nCERIhMkTLY/s1600-h/grace.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210779274704575890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBoJHe73ZI/AAAAAAAAAHM/nCERIhMkTLY/s400/grace.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBoQN8xHpI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eKuyCjcgEmY/s1600-h/gr.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210779396699397778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBoQN8xHpI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eKuyCjcgEmY/s400/gr.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, it was way too hard to pick my favorite pictures of Grace. There is one more that I will post later. You can just call it her Marilyn Monroe picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBmV6jfVqI/AAAAAAAAAG0/QZ3HkKGCpos/s1600-h/P5090708.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210777295549060770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBmV6jfVqI/AAAAAAAAAG0/QZ3HkKGCpos/s400/P5090708.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my favorite pictures of the boys togther (without fighting). &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBmz0NP5HI/AAAAAAAAAG8/DOptwXZv5kE/s1600-h/P5101047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210777809241236594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBmz0NP5HI/AAAAAAAAAG8/DOptwXZv5kE/s400/P5101047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know this looks like a zoo picture, but oh no. This was our little friend in the pond near our condo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBqLsqHYtI/AAAAAAAAAH0/BUAkkNpucnk/s1600-h/New+Image.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210781518066574034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBqLsqHYtI/AAAAAAAAAH0/BUAkkNpucnk/s400/New+Image.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably my favorite picture overall. I love looking at this hunk of a man with my babies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-2026481102205641736?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/2026481102205641736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=2026481102205641736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2026481102205641736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2026481102205641736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2008/06/vacation-pictures.html' title='Vacation Pictures'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SFBpbiFc0zI/AAAAAAAAAHk/P0bQdWqm3rI/s72-c/P5050420.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-1521121197616786497</id><published>2008-06-05T18:43:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T19:03:01.230-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Litttle Blake</title><content type='html'>About the time I enter back into Blog world we all knew that something would have to happen. Last week on Tuesday the kids went outside to play after dinner. About 30 minutes later Gavin comes running in the house, "Mommy! Daddy! Blake is hurt!" Chris and I both took off fairly quickly because Blake is the child that takes a lick and keeps on ticking. When we get outside we find that the kids had been riding big wheels down this steep hill behind our house. Blake looks kind of beat up with a cut on his face and lots of scratches on his back ( he had his shirt off). I took him him and bathed him while he screamed. After the bath (still crying....) we realized that he would not move his right arm. Being the great parents that we are (and him being the 3rd child) we waited a good three hours thinking that any minute he would jump up and start waving his arms. No such luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to the ER we go. Hesitantly. But, we go. After some time the Dr. informed me that our Blaker broke his collar bone. Apparently a pretty common break, but oh no he had to do it right. Most children of his age crack this bone, but Blake had to break it clean through. With this comes a lot of pain. Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...we figured he was not in enough pain so we proceeded with his tonsilectomy on Friday. I'll let you guess what I have been doing for a week and a half. All I can say is THANK YOU THAT IT WASN'T GAVIN!!! &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208536459163267074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SEhwUEgY8AI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PBGa3kiU4PQ/s400/P6011109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-1521121197616786497?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/1521121197616786497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=1521121197616786497' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1521121197616786497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1521121197616786497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2008/06/poor-litttle-blake.html' title='Poor Litttle Blake'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/SEhwUEgY8AI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PBGa3kiU4PQ/s72-c/P6011109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-2223933636803121495</id><published>2008-05-22T06:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T06:13:09.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This breaks my heart</title><content type='html'>I was checking the weather this morning before I left for NC and found this article.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wbir.com/news/local/story.aspx?storyid=58368&amp;amp;catid=2"&gt;http://www.wbir.com/news/local/story.aspx?storyid=58368&amp;amp;catid=2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For those of you who do not know Steven Curtis Chapman, please visit his website and pray for their family during this terrible time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stevencurtischapman.com/"&gt;http://www.stevencurtischapman.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-2223933636803121495?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/2223933636803121495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=2223933636803121495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2223933636803121495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2223933636803121495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-breaks-my-heart.html' title='This breaks my heart'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-8252798535986460792</id><published>2008-05-21T10:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T12:32:02.944-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I will try this again!</title><content type='html'>It has been so long since I blogged that I may have forgotten how.  I have been inspired to get back on the horse after reading a friend's blog.  I began blogging because it was a wonderful way to "talk" about what was going on inside my head.  It was a neat way to journal and to save some of those special thoughts, moments, and prayers.  The past six months have been so hectic that our lives are far from normal.  However, I have come to the place that I realize normal is just a "setting on the dryer" and if I wait to live life until everything comes back to normal I will die still waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To catch up just a little bit here are some very very brief catch ups of the past 6 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My grandparents moved from their home across the street to a new home&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We moved from our 600 sq. foot house to our much larger house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The house we are living in is being torn apart ( in some areas down to the ground) and remodeled or rebuilt which ever you want to call it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We finished our 2nd year of homeschooling&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;All of my babies had birthdays.  Now we have a 3 year old, a five year old, and an 8 year old&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chris' truck broke three times and now we are buying a new to us truck&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chris' 18 year old cousin, John, has moved in with us&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Most of all I hope that with six months passing we have moved closer in our relationship with our Lord Jesus and are learning to trust and love him more&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-8252798535986460792?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/8252798535986460792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=8252798535986460792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/8252798535986460792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/8252798535986460792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2008/05/maybe-i-will-try-this-again.html' title='Maybe I will try this again!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-3240869854152562683</id><published>2007-08-31T18:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T21:51:01.611-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Speechless</title><content type='html'>Sitting down to blog is something that I do enjoy but simply do not find enough time to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;diligent&lt;/span&gt; at it.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Some days&lt;/span&gt; I just can't wait to spill out all of my thoughts, idea, trials, and daily experiences and other days I just want to write to feel my fingers on the keyboard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of doing this work to prepare the land to move my grandparents and move our family I am finding a strange feeling inside myself that is new to me.  Actually it is not just new but, quite strange.  I am finding myself at a loss for words and sometimes even emotions.  For me to be at a loss for words is not something that happens frequently so to be that way on a regular basis  is not something I am accustomed to.  What do you say when you have nothing to say?  What should you feel when you have no emotion inside of you?  I think I am living out my weakness.  That is quite funny when I hear myself say that because just tonight Grace (7) asked me what my gift is?  The fact that my birthday was this week made me answer, "What gift honey?"  She immediately reminded me that I have told her time and time again that God blesses each one of us with a gift.  In being honest I told her that right now the only gift I could think of that I have is being so weak that I have no other choice but to let God do all of my work for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, it leaves me pondering: What is my gift?  Is it wrong to admit that you have one?  What does it mean if you can't think of anything that you are gifted at?  (I'm not saying that I have one or not, but it is a thought).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-3240869854152562683?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/3240869854152562683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=3240869854152562683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/3240869854152562683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/3240869854152562683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/08/speechless.html' title='Speechless'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-6660190317121544793</id><published>2007-08-20T17:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T21:29:47.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well Are You?  I'm NOT!!</title><content type='html'>I&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; have been thinking recently about where I am today. Not literally like my address, but more of who I am. I am a wife of 10 years, a mommy to three children, a stay at home mom, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;homeschooler&lt;/span&gt;, a sold out Jesus lover, and all in all pretty content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds absolutely wonderful, but….It is not at all where I thought I would be if someone had asked me ten years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured that I would still be married in ten years, but I really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t sure that I would be happy. That sound pessimistic, I know, but really I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know many people who had made it to ten years and the ones I did surely were not even close to happy. How did I expect to be different?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think I ever really thought about having children. I was not one of those women who swore never to have them, I just never thought about it. I have dear friends that cared for baby dolls throughout their childhoods just waiting to become a mommy, but not me. I wanted to be a lawyer. Even when I got married children just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t cross my mind; unless of course you count those times I thought I might be pregnant. Then when I began to feel the urge two seemed like plenty. I mean why in the world would someone have more children than they have hands? Then came the working thing. I could not imagine why any woman would finish college and want to stay home with her children when there were “perfectly good child care centers” out there. I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t imagine not interacting with real people all day long. I would be so….bored!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a child I had an Aunt that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;homeschooled&lt;/span&gt; my two cousins. (Yes, for those of you adding my dear “Aunt C” was our pioneer. She had truancy officers come visit and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t have 5000 different kids of curriculum to choose from.) Anyway, I remember thinking that they were just weird. Those poor deprived children. So sad that they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t possibly have friends. Even when Grace was little I never thought I could do the homeschooling thing. Well, in fact I still think that many days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the only thing that I listed that ten years ago seemed even slightly attainable was that I would fall in love with Jesus. It seemed awfully hard in those days. I was still in that pattern of no commitment and doubt to the point that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t dig myself out. It was an elusive dream that one day I would be a woman that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t go five minutes without talking to my Lord. I still struggled to remind myself to pray in those days. Now I really understand what it means to pray without ceasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Enough about me. Where are You? Are you where you thought that you would be? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-6660190317121544793?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/6660190317121544793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=6660190317121544793' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6660190317121544793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6660190317121544793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/08/well-are-you-im-not.html' title='Well Are You?  I&apos;m NOT!!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-6370256450900922430</id><published>2007-08-13T18:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T20:23:14.079-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving up Control</title><content type='html'>When I started homeschooling I had this ideal situation all planned out in my mind that Grace would be preforming at least a year or two ahead, learn another language, type, know all the states and capitals, all the countries in the world, and of course do Calculus at 8 years old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then....reality sat in.  The truth was that she would  not listen when I read, take 2-hours to do one page of math, constantly need to use the bathroom, and would, oh my goodness, surely not, be a REAL  CHILD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this year my expectations were less, but nevertheless they were way too high considering that we are trying to prepare land to move my grandparent (who have saved everything they have ever owned in their 78 years), do a major remodel to a house, and move.  So, as of this past weekend I decided that it was okay if we did not study the human body and Western Civilzation in 2nd grade.  We are going to go back to the three R's and then learn about some real life.  I have been assured that she will benefit greatly from learning how to hammer, paint, cut up trees, pour concrete, hang drywall, and other such things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the hardest thing for me is to let go of what "traditional" school should look like.  I want her to know everything there is to know about everything.  Such silliness!  This too is God stretching me and teaching me to realize that many times things don't work the way we think they should, but He is always in control!  To God be all the glory and Praise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Phillippians 4:6-7&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-6370256450900922430?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/6370256450900922430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=6370256450900922430' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6370256450900922430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6370256450900922430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/08/giving-up-control.html' title='Giving up Control'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-2322745767915684625</id><published>2007-08-09T22:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T22:09:24.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I can see the light....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Glory be to God!  I have waited and waited to post this and I hope I have picked the right time.  As many of you know we (all five of us) live in a blessed little 600 sq. foot house that my grandfather grew up in.  When he lived here it was his parents and 5 of the 6 children still at home.  I still don't know how they did it, but I am sure it had to do with Mamaw's sweet and content spirit.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we have lived here for 9 years.  When we first moved in we thought it was small, then came baby #1 and it was doable, but tight.  Then baby #2 came and we just were not sure how it was going to work.  Then baby #3 came and oh I cried, because I could just see Chris and I moving into the living room on a pull out couch.  Well, as we had said many times before, "We live in a rubber house and it just stretches."  Now, however the stretching has ceased. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in the process of moving my grandparents into a mobile home across the street from their current house, remodeling the house that live in now, and then....then....then....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;WE ARE GOING TO MOVE!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It is still not real.  We are picking out cabinets, flooring, bathtubs, light fixtures, and a multitude of other things.  We dropped off our refinance papers today on OUR house to do all the updates.  ALL PRAISE BE TO MY JESUS, BECAUSE HE REMINDED ME THAT HE DID NOT FORGET US!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-2322745767915684625?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/2322745767915684625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=2322745767915684625' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2322745767915684625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2322745767915684625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-can-see-light.html' title='I can see the light....'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-5886968594506703410</id><published>2007-07-30T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T00:04:58.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Go! Fight! Win!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last week we had our 2nd annual Cheerleading Camp week.  Grace had a ton of fun.  It is still funny seeing her cheer for my old high school's biggest rival.  But, Grace loves that she is a Bobcat.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6yhgdJUzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Z7Va1OkSRw4/s1600-h/100_0257.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093204517320217394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6yhgdJUzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Z7Va1OkSRw4/s400/100_0257.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Daddy is not the least bit upset that the biggest thing she struggles with cheering is being able to shake her behind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6yGwdJUyI/AAAAAAAAAGc/HhzkTrY7FgY/s1600-h/100_0252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093204057758716706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6yGwdJUyI/AAAAAAAAAGc/HhzkTrY7FgY/s400/100_0252.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This year they had a huge group of girls and they took a picture for our local newspaper.  Those of you who are our neighbors keep an eye out in the paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6wxQdJUuI/AAAAAAAAAGM/IiQ1s1sDuOQ/s1600-h/100_0255.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093202588879901410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6wxQdJUuI/AAAAAAAAAGM/IiQ1s1sDuOQ/s400/100_0255.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the same little girl that will argue to the death that she is not a "girlie girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6vowdJUrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hgZpFWSgxds/s1600-h/100_0241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093201343339385522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6vowdJUrI/AAAAAAAAAF0/hgZpFWSgxds/s400/100_0241.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On Thursday night, Grace's squad dressed up like Hula Girls.  I think our little baby girl was the only one with no tummy showing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6vPQdJUqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/_u97AtL8b3Y/s1600-h/100_0238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093200905252721314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6vPQdJUqI/AAAAAAAAAFs/_u97AtL8b3Y/s400/100_0238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They had a blast last week.  The highlight of my week was the fact that two of Grace's "Big Cheerleaders" were acutally toddlers at the childcare center I worked at before I got married.  I really don't feel old until something like that comes up.  It is just a good reminder as to how fast these years are going to fly by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Go Bobcats!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-5886968594506703410?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/5886968594506703410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=5886968594506703410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/5886968594506703410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/5886968594506703410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/07/go-fight-win.html' title='Go! Fight! Win!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rq6yhgdJUzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Z7Va1OkSRw4/s72-c/100_0257.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-4812685672649229899</id><published>2007-07-20T09:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T09:39:22.537-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you kidding me?</title><content type='html'>I was having a conversation the other day with my cousin who has a son the same age as Grace about learning bible verses and this is the story that she told me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her son was learning a bible verse for bible school and she asked him to say it slowly so that she could learn it along with him.  He looked at her and said, "Mommy don't you know that one?"  When she replied no, he said, "I thought you knew all the verses in the bible!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This led me to ask Grace how many bible verses that she thought I knew and then she replied, "All of them."  I told her she was crazy! ; ) I only started really to learn the bible about six years ago and even then I only know a tiny tiny portion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing at the pedestal she has me on when she is given evidence &lt;span &gt;every minute of my sin!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-4812685672649229899?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/4812685672649229899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=4812685672649229899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/4812685672649229899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/4812685672649229899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/07/are-you-kidding-me.html' title='Are you kidding me?'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-8234811864961596737</id><published>2007-07-19T17:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T19:21:44.914-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Toy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;This past weekend my Sweetie bought me a new toy b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ecause my old one broke.  I am very excited that I have this beautiful (way too expensive) toy to cool my food.  I am just praying that this one will last longer than the previous one (it only lasted 5 1/2 years).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Enjoy the tour!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;It is a Kenmore Elite, Stainless Steel, French door, with a bottom freezer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089033528323308866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rp_hB_nDfUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ckPF6yy6Qac/s400/fridge.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;The inside is huge.  The water is in the little spout on the left hand side.  To much room to fill up ever so quickly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089029675737644322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rp_dhvnDfSI/AAAAAAAAAFU/yh5h6bzwatU/s400/DSC00069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I love the bottom freezer.  It is not quite as big as my side by side but it is big enough to hold ice cream from Marble Slab!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089029529708756242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rp_dZPnDfRI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Vmv4e6NUV18/s400/DSC00070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/3054687058989971634-8234811864961596737?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/8234811864961596737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=8234811864961596737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/8234811864961596737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/8234811864961596737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/07/new-toy.html' title='A New Toy'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rp_hB_nDfUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ckPF6yy6Qac/s72-c/fridge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-7386789554362032598</id><published>2007-07-12T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T23:57:56.429-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Absence</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know I have been gone for quite a while. I have been in mourning. That is all I can say. So I suppose that an explanation should be given. When I went on my very first Mommy trip at the end of May (to NC to a homeschooling book fair) I received a very troubling phone call from my children. Here is your hint:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086523369046899970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rpb2DfnDfQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/XmdJZSgkGNI/s400/DSC00048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Before I left for NC, Chris and I had a random conversation about loaning our crib to a friend that was going to have twins.  I had already offered it to her, but also knew that she would not need it for some time.  When we talked about taking the crib down I said, "You're going to have to do it sometime when I am not here because I just can't stand to take him out of it."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apparently Chris took me a little too seriously.  When my children called me in NC, Blake said, "I seep big boy bed."  I immediately asked for Chris!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why you may ask is this such a big deal?  HE IS MY BABY, HELLO!!!!  I planned on him sleeping in that crib until he at least went to middle school.  You know nurse until he is 5, diapers until 7 or 8, and crib until 11!  How else can I keep him my baby?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One way to remember that he is still a baby is multiple times a night we find him like this: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086523098463960306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rpb1zvnDfPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/mdqY5W9J9Jw/s400/DSC00066.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sound asleep with his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;giggy&lt;/span&gt;, I mean blanket.  I think I need another infant in this house!  Just don't tell Chris!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now that my grieving is finished I will try to begin catching you up on our summer: bible school, swimming, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cheerleading&lt;/span&gt; camp, OUR 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WOOHOO&lt;/span&gt;), and all the other fun stuff.  Hold me accountable, b/c you know that this blog is my only responsibility in life!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-7386789554362032598?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/7386789554362032598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=7386789554362032598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/7386789554362032598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/7386789554362032598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-absence.html' title='My Absence'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rpb2DfnDfQI/AAAAAAAAAFE/XmdJZSgkGNI/s72-c/DSC00048.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-256633698621406432</id><published>2007-06-11T16:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T16:16:11.125-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WARNING!  VENTING IN PROGRESS!</title><content type='html'>So...this is suppose to be our first night of bible school and by the way it is the first year that Gavin can attend.  Chris and I talk about it and decide that he is perfectly capable of going so I will just call the person in charge (who by the way I know) and talk to her about his food allergies and his other issues.  So I call her and ask her who his teacher is going to be so that I can get there early to talk to he or she about things.  She ask me what is up so I begin to tell her about the food allergies and then I go into &lt;strong&gt;THE CONVERSATION&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This conversation should not be a big deal.  Gavin is very normal in so many ways that sometimes Chris and I even forget that there is anything wrong.  But, when you are trying to explain Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PDD&lt;/span&gt;-NOS) to someone you might as well be speaking in a language from Mars.  So, I have reverted to saying that he is on the Autism Spectrum, but that he is Very high functioning.  I usually go on to say that he is perfectly normal until he is not, meaning that most of the time he acts like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rowdy&lt;/span&gt; 4-year-old boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is that when people hear Autism they see Rain Man.  All they hear is the word and then they stop listening.  Back to THE CONVERSATION.  The lady wanted to know if he was verbal, and I assured her that he was.  I also assured her that I would not bring him unless he could function well there.  I really do want success for him and he can be successful at this.  In fact he can be more successful at this than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of children that I see at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; that have no diagnosis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, for all of you positive peeps I know that this is an attack of the enemy on me, b/c I have been struggling with my sweet Gavin.  So, here I am sitting and I am going to pray that I will go and hang out with him tonight, and not be spiteful, enjoy the extra time with just him, and pray that the fruit of the Spirit will be evident in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just remember that we all know you can't judge a book by it's cover and you can't always judge a child by his or her diagnosis! Love You All!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-256633698621406432?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/256633698621406432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=256633698621406432' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/256633698621406432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/256633698621406432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/06/warning-venting-in-progress.html' title='WARNING!  VENTING IN PROGRESS!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-2040462461589904891</id><published>2007-06-09T17:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T18:26:59.348-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Stolen Kisses"</title><content type='html'>For most of you I am sure you are asking yourselves, "What in the world is she talking about?"  But there are a handful of you that know my sweet Gavin and our struggles with his unique qualities.  One of those blessed qualities is that he is not affectionate in that he rarely receives it and even less often gives it.  It has only been in the past 4 months that I have been able to kiss him on the top of the head and him not have a complete meltdown.  Well, I am pleased to announce that for about the past week I have been able to "steal" some kisses on the top of his forehead and the side of his face!!!!  It is almost as if he doesn't even notice, but hey I'll take it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said you all can celebrate this V-I-C-T-O-R-Y with me and continue to pray with me that one day he just might kiss me, but until then I'm going to enjoy my "stolen kisses."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-2040462461589904891?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/2040462461589904891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=2040462461589904891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2040462461589904891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2040462461589904891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/06/stolen-kisses.html' title='&quot;Stolen Kisses&quot;'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-3338448799259666695</id><published>2007-05-22T12:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T12:47:30.021-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheap Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMdpFC421I/AAAAAAAAAEs/bGf_S9w0bH8/s1600-h/DSC00042.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;A Can of Cheap Shaving Cream:   $.99&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Water to Clean them Off:    $.70&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Thirty minutes of PEACE: &lt;strong&gt;PRICELESS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMde1C420I/AAAAAAAAAEk/Yy42hP3Y_b0/s1600-h/DSC00043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067426421194414914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMde1C420I/AAAAAAAAAEk/Yy42hP3Y_b0/s400/DSC00043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Blake loves getting messy and wants everyonelse to join in on the fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMdWFC42zI/AAAAAAAAAEc/z5C7DnkRmJ8/s1600-h/DSC00044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067426270870559538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMdWFC42zI/AAAAAAAAAEc/z5C7DnkRmJ8/s400/DSC00044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Gavin is fine as long as there is a barrier between him and the mess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMdL1C42yI/AAAAAAAAAEU/lGMxDz3y5Fk/s1600-h/DSC00045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067426094776900386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMdL1C42yI/AAAAAAAAAEU/lGMxDz3y5Fk/s400/DSC00045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The greatest thing about it was that there was almost no cost and almost no clean up! &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-3338448799259666695?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/3338448799259666695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=3338448799259666695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/3338448799259666695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/3338448799259666695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/05/cheap-fun.html' title='Cheap Fun'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlMde1C420I/AAAAAAAAAEk/Yy42hP3Y_b0/s72-c/DSC00043.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-5257317297654302620</id><published>2007-05-21T21:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T21:47:44.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Lisa....Where Are You???</title><content type='html'>The rest of you can just ignore this....but &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lisa L&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. you found my blog, but I can't find you!  Please email me or something so I can have your new email address!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last we talked you were living in Alabama!  I would love to keep in touch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-5257317297654302620?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/5257317297654302620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=5257317297654302620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/5257317297654302620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/5257317297654302620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/05/oh-lisawhere-are-you.html' title='Oh Lisa....Where Are You???'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-4551901408490550773</id><published>2007-05-21T21:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T21:45:03.863-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We Own a Horse Stable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Grace wanted horses for Christmas and then didn't have a stable big enough for them so....Daddy went to work.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHElC42rI/AAAAAAAAADc/UrTkIghkcsE/s1600-h/stable+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067190674734504626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 359px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px" height="258" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHElC42rI/AAAAAAAAADc/UrTkIghkcsE/s320/stable+7.jpg" width="343" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She wanted a ladder so her people could climb up to the loft, but these didn't quite please her so back to the drawing board.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHyVC42wI/AAAAAAAAAEE/DX_eT5n4c_U/s1600-h/stable+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067191460713519874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHyVC42wI/AAAAAAAAAEE/DX_eT5n4c_U/s320/stable+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here we have a REAL ladder!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHrFC42vI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6fOFGRSZWGw/s1600-h/stable+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067191336159468274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHrFC42vI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6fOFGRSZWGw/s320/stable+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the side doors are to hide all of the junk in, but the kids think they are for playing hide-and-seek with the people. &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHjFC42uI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FLFJ2EYaPOk/s1600-h/stable+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067191198720514786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHjFC42uI/AAAAAAAAAD0/FLFJ2EYaPOk/s320/stable+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJK3lC42xI/AAAAAAAAAEM/7CpwYEE7DHc/s1600-h/stable+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067194849442716434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJK3lC42xI/AAAAAAAAAEM/7CpwYEE7DHc/s320/stable+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHTlC42sI/AAAAAAAAADk/Kmq6e-YQzms/s1600-h/stable+6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067190932432542402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHTlC42sI/AAAAAAAAADk/Kmq6e-YQzms/s320/stable+6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I personally am very impressed with this creation! This was built from trash wood from work, no drawings, and not exactly the right tools, but I bet we could make some money if we sold them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The funny thing is after all the hard work Grace wanted to paint the barn with Tempera Paint! Yea right!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-4551901408490550773?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/4551901408490550773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=4551901408490550773' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/4551901408490550773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/4551901408490550773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/05/we-own-horse-stable.html' title='We Own a Horse Stable'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RlJHElC42rI/AAAAAAAAADc/UrTkIghkcsE/s72-c/stable+7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-1773035342915724495</id><published>2007-05-17T10:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T14:00:34.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Field Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yesterday, we had a fun day at field day. It was filled with of fun things like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqtlC42oI/AAAAAAAAADE/VhHcnQxcsuY/s1600-h/DSC00011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065541012155849346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqtlC42oI/AAAAAAAAADE/VhHcnQxcsuY/s320/DSC00011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THREE-LEGGED RACE (WITH THE WRONG LEG IN THE BAG!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rkxqk1C42nI/AAAAAAAAAC8/TvrUbz_LrsA/s1600-h/DSC00013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065540861831993970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rkxqk1C42nI/AAAAAAAAAC8/TvrUbz_LrsA/s320/DSC00013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RUN RUN RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN YOU CAN'T FILL THE BUCKET UP WITH WATER BEFORE YOU ARE SOAKED &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rkxqb1C42mI/AAAAAAAAAC0/wsiNEWvvpkA/s1600-h/DSC00019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065540707213171298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rkxqb1C42mI/AAAAAAAAAC0/wsiNEWvvpkA/s320/DSC00019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;WHAT IS THE PLAN TO GET SO DIRTY OUR MOMS WON'T RECOGNIZE US?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqRlC42lI/AAAAAAAAACs/XLEV1h5dRjI/s1600-h/DSC00020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065540531119512146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqRlC42lI/AAAAAAAAACs/XLEV1h5dRjI/s320/DSC00020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GUESS WHAT I DID? I FELL AND TUMBLED RUNNING THE 50 YARD DASH - GOT UP AND KEPT ON GOING! AND YES, I GOT VERY DIRTY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqIlC42kI/AAAAAAAAACk/WaBy963QCjw/s1600-h/DSC00022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065540376500689474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqIlC42kI/AAAAAAAAACk/WaBy963QCjw/s320/DSC00022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AN UNOFFICIAL GAME OF TUG-OF-WAR! GIRLS VS. BOYS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqAlC42jI/AAAAAAAAACc/GQn8-K29WUc/s1600-h/DSC00024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065540239061735986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqAlC42jI/AAAAAAAAACc/GQn8-K29WUc/s320/DSC00024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE GIRLS DRUG THE BOYS ALL OVER THE FIELD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxprVC42hI/AAAAAAAAACM/AIGMjYW3dKM/s1600-h/DSC00028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065539873989515794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxprVC42hI/AAAAAAAAACM/AIGMjYW3dKM/s320/DSC00028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GAVIN MADE IT ONTO A TUG OF WAR TEAM THAT MANAGED TO PULL THE OTHER TEAM OVER (AND PULL GAVIN AS WELL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rkxuv1C42qI/AAAAAAAAADU/36O4STwWpdw/s1600-h/DSC00031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065545448857066146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/Rkxuv1C42qI/AAAAAAAAADU/36O4STwWpdw/s320/DSC00031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all it was a fun day! We got soaked from the rain, got banged up a little, enjoyed friends and cool weather, and won a few ribbons!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3054687058989971634-1773035342915724495?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/1773035342915724495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=1773035342915724495' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1773035342915724495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1773035342915724495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/05/home-school-field-day.html' title='Field Day'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkxqtlC42oI/AAAAAAAAADE/VhHcnQxcsuY/s72-c/DSC00011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-1950769571586813466</id><published>2007-05-13T18:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T11:08:22.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Mother's Day I Have Ever Had</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Usually on Mother's Day I get the whole day off. I don't get anyone but me ready for church, I don't take anyone to potty, I don't fix any one's meals, I get to take a nap that ends when I say, in short...I get to be lazy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This morning did not start that way. But I didn't care. I woke up smiling because this was going to be the best Mother's Day I have had so far. We were all going to walk into the church auditorium dressed for church and three of us were leaving WET!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had the incredible privilege of baptising Chris, my husband, my love, and my friend this morning and then watching him as he baptised Grace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have only seen him cry a couple of times in 12 years but this morning as he told about Jesus changing his life I could see him holding the tears back. You want a REAL man....There he is!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064182463356282754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeXHoYdJ4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/-vEKYOdjw08/s320/Baptism+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I got a little scrambled on my words and said "Holy Ghost" instead of "Holy Spirit". Who says Holy Ghost anymore. I guess you can take the girl out of the Baptist Church but you can't take the Baptist out of the girl!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064181638722561858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeWXoYdJ0I/AAAAAAAAABc/gvodXpm9dK0/s320/Baptism+5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The heater wasn't working in the pool so it was a little chilly. Really Chris and I didn't notice it much but when Grace got in she started dancing around in front of 1,000+ people saying, "Ooooo! It's cold in here!" She was excited and cold and it was Grace so of course everyone was chuckling!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064181801931319122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeWhIYdJ1I/AAAAAAAAABk/XQQFsvs4yOg/s320/Baptism+6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of the neatest things that our church does is to encourage you to have people from your family and support system stand on stage with you saying that they will walk this journey with you as you grow in Christ Jesus. We were blessed to have Paw, Aunt Carolyn, Uncle Bob, The Johnston Family, and the Herrrells. We missed having the Haydens and the Schrimshers, but we know that you were there in heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064181496988641074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeWPYYdJzI/AAAAAAAAABU/j2mS0kS34vQ/s320/Baptism+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here we are all leaving wet and blessed! The feeling of being obedient to Christ is incredible!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am so proud of Chris and Grace both that words are not sufficient!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeW8YYdJ3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/srnuKCb0RKc/s1600-h/Baptism+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064182270082754418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeW8YYdJ3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/srnuKCb0RKc/s320/Baptism+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;By the way...I still got my day off. After leaving church, my sweet husband took me out to eat, took care of the kids, let me take a &lt;strong&gt;really &lt;/strong&gt;long nap, and is fixing them "supper" even as we speak! I am thankful for a day off, but I am even more thankful that God made me a MOTHER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3054687058989971634-1950769571586813466?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/1950769571586813466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=1950769571586813466' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1950769571586813466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1950769571586813466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/05/best-mothers-day-i-have-ever-had.html' title='Best Mother&apos;s Day I Have Ever Had'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkeXHoYdJ4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/-vEKYOdjw08/s72-c/Baptism+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-4706774004378206224</id><published>2007-05-11T17:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T17:20:43.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy (Belated) Birthday Princess Grace!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE PRINCESS IS 7!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;It is so hard for me to believe that this sweet (Ha!Ha!) baby is seven years old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063413406512260786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 366px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 307px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="216" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTbqoYdJrI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_FF7QvgYnVw/s320/07-19-2006+08%3B07%3B56PM+6.jpg" width="196" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;But, she is growing up. I really am enjoying her more now than I did even a year ago. There are still challenges, but we can relate now (somedays a little too much). Here are some a few current pictures!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTdaoYdJuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/idIMOoidVCE/s1600-h/DSC00103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063415330657609442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTdaoYdJuI/AAAAAAAAAAs/idIMOoidVCE/s320/DSC00103.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTc7IYdJsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/enY10ro_H-Y/s1600-h/DSC00082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063414789491730114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTc7IYdJsI/AAAAAAAAAAc/enY10ro_H-Y/s320/DSC00082.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTdkoYdJvI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WbU7_Ij9fh0/s1600-h/DSC00113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063415502456301298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTdkoYdJvI/AAAAAAAAAA0/WbU7_Ij9fh0/s320/DSC00113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTdLoYdJtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/zZj65SEovhk/s1600-h/DSC00089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063415072959571666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTdLoYdJtI/AAAAAAAAAAk/zZj65SEovhk/s320/DSC00089.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/3054687058989971634-4706774004378206224?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/4706774004378206224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=4706774004378206224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/4706774004378206224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/4706774004378206224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-belated-birthday-princess-grace.html' title='Happy (Belated) Birthday Princess Grace!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rxu6D3fjexw/RkTbqoYdJrI/AAAAAAAAAAU/_FF7QvgYnVw/s72-c/07-19-2006+08%3B07%3B56PM+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-5452033016487897660</id><published>2007-04-26T20:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T20:40:01.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I would LOVE to see this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;There is no fast food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of "pretend" bills with not enough money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;In addition, each man will have to budget in money for groceries each week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment. He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care (weekend, evening, on a holiday or right when they're about to leave for vacation).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;There is only one TV between them, and a remote with dead batteries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each father will be required to know all of the words to every stupid song that comes on TV and the name of each and every character on cartoons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, which they will apply to themselves either while driving or making three lunches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each man will have to make an Indian hut model with six toothpicks, a tortilla and one marker; and get a 4 year old to eat a serving of peas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Each man must adorn himself with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep their nails polished and eyebrows groomed. The men must try to get through each day without snot, spit-up or barf on their clothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches, and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties. They must try to explain what a tampon is for when the 6-yr old boy finds it in the purse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He will need to read a book and then pray with the children each night without falling asleep, and then feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair each morning by 7:00. They must leave the home with no food on their face or clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Also the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;They must clean up after their sick children at 2:00 a.m. and then spend the remainder of the day tending to that child and waiting on them hand and foot until they are better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;They must have a loving, age appropriate reply to, "You're not the boss of me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The kids vote them off the island based on performance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;The last man wins only if&lt;/span&gt;...he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years...eventually earning the right to be called Mommy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-5452033016487897660?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/5452033016487897660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=5452033016487897660' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/5452033016487897660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/5452033016487897660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-would-love-to-see-this.html' title='I would LOVE to see this!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-7314905857837901852</id><published>2007-04-23T20:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T20:52:53.917-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Story of Grace</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I was sitting in church on Sunday&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; listening to a wonderful message on living like we have God's grace instead of living in fear and although it was a wonderful message it was not speaking to my heart.  I learned from it in my head, but you all know what I'm talking about...When the message goes beyond cognitive understanding and moves into your spirit.  It is like a fire of excitement is lit deep within you.  A fire that causes you to tremble inside and "feel" the Holy Spirit.  For me on Sunday it was not the message that lit that fire, but the testimony of a woman at the end.  She told of a life of searching for love.  She told of looking for that love and acceptance in men and the many troubles that led her into.  She told of the pain of abortion.  But, then....She told of God's mercy....God's forgiveness...God's love...and The incredible Grace that has been given to us in Christ Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leaned over to Chris and said that aside from that grace I too would be telling that story.  As I sat there I thought about the day when I tell Grace the story of her name.  She knows that even before I was pregnant God told me that I would have a little girl and I was to name her Elizabeth Grace, but that is just the tip of the iceberg.  The whole story goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I too, as a young girl needed love and attention.  Everyone does, but as life would have it I did not get that at home, so I began looking for it.  I didn't realize that was what I was doing, but nevertheless I did.  As I developed physically I realized that my physical appearance (dressed in an inappropriate way) gained me attention.  In fact it gained &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; of attention.  I wore everything that I could to show every part of my body that I could.  I loved the attention.  At 14 I received the attention that would change my life.  I had my first "experience".  I remember during the 8 months of that "experience" thinking that I was with child.  You can imagine my dismay.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; ramming my stomach into the corner of my dresser so many times that I looked like I had been beaten.  I wish that I could say that I learned my lesson, but I was finding "love."  My method of finding love went on for years, even after I became a christian.  It was my sin.  You know the sin that keeps you bound up in chains that just won't let go.  I knew it was wrong, but it was like a drug, I tried to stop but I would always return to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stopping point was the year before I got married.  Then I was delivered...because I was suppose to have those "experiences"!  As we moved into married life and the thought of having &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;children&lt;/span&gt; came to mind I began to wonder why and how I had never gotten pregnant in the past years.  Then I began to think that it was possible that as a logical consequence of my sin I may never be able to have children.  That seemed very probable to me, not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; God is vengeful, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; he is just.  I really believed that the day of carrying a child would never happen for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In (I think) June or July of 1999 I was driving down the road listening to a song by Point of Grace that had part of the old hymn in it, "Grace, Grace, God's Grace.  Grace that will pardon and cleanse within.  Grace, Grace, God's great Grace.  Grace that is greater than all my sin."  I know at that moment I heard the voice of the Lord.  He spoke to me so sweetly, "Terra, my grace is greater than any of your sins.  To show you, you are going to have a baby girl and I want you to name her Elizabeth Grace."  Now, one would think I would be in awe of this, but instead I said &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;out loud&lt;/span&gt;, "But, God I don't even like the name Elizabeth."  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;After&lt;/span&gt; than moment of insanity I realized what had just happened.  I finally understood that I was not that girl searching for love.  I had found it in Jesus and he had even expressed his love even further through Chris.  And in His sweet loving kindness He had in fact forgiven me and had covered my sin with His grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't tell Chris at first, but when I did I began to look for the meaning of Elizabeth.  It means "belonging to the Lord," so when you put Elizabeth Grace together it literally means that she "belongs the the Lord's Grace!"  On Sept. 9 I found out I was pregnant (by the way we were not trying, so it was in fact God!).  I was not at all surprised when the Dr. told me it was a girl.  Now, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I hear that old hymn or take time to think about Grace's name, I am reminded of the grace that was given to me.  It was given to me freely.  It was given to me undeserving.  It was given to me completely! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Jesus for your Grace!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-7314905857837901852?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/7314905857837901852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=7314905857837901852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/7314905857837901852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/7314905857837901852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/story-of-grace.html' title='A Story of Grace'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-9153423451815533065</id><published>2007-04-17T15:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T15:49:09.265-04:00</updated><title type='text'>STOMP HIS FACE!!! Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;This morning I started singing this silly song to the boys that has the same tune as another song that they remembered so as I began singing Blake yelled, "NO!  Sing the STOMP FACE song!"  So...after I corrected the fact that we do not tell Mommy , "NO!"  we proceeded to sing this song:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had a little white box to put my Jesus in,&lt;br /&gt;I'd open it up, hug his neck, and share him with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I had a little black box to put Satan in,&lt;br /&gt;I'D OPEN IT UP AND &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;STOMP HIS FACE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And put him back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I could just do that every morning.  Wake up, greet my Jesus, and plan to share him that day it would start the day off right.  I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;certain&lt;/span&gt; that if I got up in the morning, ready to put on my battle armor, and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;STOMP SATAN'S FACE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; it would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; be a better day!  Maybe I'll try that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-9153423451815533065?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/9153423451815533065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=9153423451815533065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/9153423451815533065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/9153423451815533065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/stomp-his-face-song.html' title='STOMP HIS FACE!!! Song'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-7481026633130095709</id><published>2007-04-12T19:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T19:51:25.425-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow internet anyone?</title><content type='html'>I knew that we were behind the time as far as getting high speed Internet goes, but until I started this blog I really didn't see a need for paying more than $13 a month for time on this crazy computer.  But, now with this blog is has become very obvious that there are many things I can't do without high speed.  For example I tried to download a picture for a post and about 3 hours later I gave up.  So we are in the process of getting a free modem which will give us $19.99 Comcast for six months! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;So...Just wait when the floodgates open pictures will come!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-7481026633130095709?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/7481026633130095709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=7481026633130095709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/7481026633130095709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/7481026633130095709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/slow-internet-anyone.html' title='Slow internet anyone?'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-1201597566303987062</id><published>2007-04-10T11:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T12:05:14.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Crazy!!!</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning with a headache, but I was determined to make this a praiseworthy day.  It hasn't gone so well.  Grace took an hour on math alone while the boys screamed at each other off and on for one thing or another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to make my house livable because we have friends coming over on Friday and I am determined for it not to look like I live in a cluttered pigpen!  I know they love us anyway, but really who wants to have friends over and them have no where to sit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much admiration for those of you who run like crazy women and still have a clean home.  I have something going on every day this week and here I sit because I simply don't know where to start.  The FlyLady would say a good place to start would be putting some clothes on (yes, I am still in my PJs at noon)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am going to pray that my calm precious Jesus will give me perspective on my list of to-do's so I won't go crazy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-1201597566303987062?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/1201597566303987062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=1201597566303987062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1201597566303987062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/1201597566303987062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/going-crazy.html' title='Going Crazy!!!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-2277680748835698853</id><published>2007-04-07T20:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T22:43:49.577-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy, how do we really know?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The other day as we were sitting at the dinner table without Daddy, b/c he was working late Grace looks at me with a serious look. I have learned over the past 6 years that these looks are usually followed up with very interesting questions that I don't always have a good answer for. Anyway she says, "Mommy how do we really know that there is a God? And even if there is how do we know that Jesus was his son and he did all the things that the bible says? You know people could have made it all up." Now, I am usually pretty quick on my words but she can really stump me. I don't even really remember what exactly I said. I know I told her something to the effect that it would be really hard to make all of that up and it all make&lt;br /&gt;sense and that many people saw the miracles that Jesus did and even saw him after he rose from from the dead. I did remember to put in there that one of the disciples questioned if it was really Jesus when he saw the Risen Lord and Jesus showed him the holes in his hands and feet. She seemed to be content with the half answers that I gave her, but I sure wasn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here I am the night before Easter and I am trying to figure out a better answer as to how we know it is all true. There are a few "reasons" I have come up with:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;First, I was reminded by Rebecca (my sister-like cousin) that Jesus fulfilled so many prophesies of the old testament. I think her words were something to the effect that it was more likely to get hit with lightening twice than for one man to fulfill even one of those prophesies and not be the Christ. So I started looking for an example of this and found more than I could list but this one all by itself is so impactful to me right now. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led&lt;br /&gt;like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so&lt;br /&gt;he did not open his mouth....For he bore the sin of many and made intercession&lt;br /&gt;for the transgressors. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isaiah 53:7 &amp; 12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The second thing that I though of is that it is true in history that this man, Jesus, was born and died. Many of his teachings are recorded not just in the bible but they are recorded as history. So we have established that he lived, but even though many people want to say that he was just a prophet or a teacher of God. Well, the problem with that is that God would not be too happy with someone walking around claiming to be Christ if he were not. In &lt;strong&gt;John 4:25-26&lt;/strong&gt; Jesus claims to be just that, the Christ. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;The woman said, "I know that Messiah" (called Christ) "is coming. When he&lt;br /&gt;comes, he will explain everything to us." Then Jesus declared,&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt; "I who speak to you am he."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;What incredible boldness! Now we are faced with the decision: Is this man, Jesus, the Messiah or his he blaspheming God? This quote is just one of many where Jesus calls himself The Messiah, The I Am, The Son of God, The Son of Man, and claims to be sent by the One and True Holy God. I don't know about you, but for me either Jesus is who he says that he is or God the entire bible is, in my pastor's words, "The biggest hoax the world has ever known.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The last reason that I came up with in my thougths about this was for me the most important. I am not lessening the value of the first two, because each of them is foundational to my beliefs in God and in Jesus being God in the Flesh. But, for me the number one reason I have that I really know is that &lt;strong&gt;I KNOW HIM PERSONALLY!&lt;/strong&gt; Yes, I said it, the God of the Universe, I know him! And his son, Jesus, I know him too! I talk with them every day, I laugh with them, I cry with them, I get excited with them, and even angry when I don't understand what in the world they are doing. I have felt their touches and heard that sweet voice in my spirit. I have laid in their arms and have felt Jesus' nail pierced hands wipe away my tears. I have seen my sweet Jesus living inside of people around me. I have felt the sweet release of knowing that the God that created the son loves me. I have experienced the peace that far surpasses any explanation that I have. I know my Jesus, my Lord, my friend, my Father, my One True Love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;So, when I tell Grace, Gavin, and Blake over the next few years the reasons that we can really know I am sure that I will share the first two reasons, but what I want for them to KNOW is the third. I want first for them to see me KNOWING Jesus. Then I pray with all of my soul that one day when they are faced with the question of how do you know it's really true they can say wholeheartedly that they KNOW the Holy and Living God!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:" height="456,WIDTH=339')&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-2277680748835698853?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/2277680748835698853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=2277680748835698853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2277680748835698853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/2277680748835698853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/mommy-how-do-we-really-know.html' title='Mommy, how do we really know?'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3054687058989971634.post-6641211340031585344</id><published>2007-04-06T13:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T11:14:12.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here I Go!</title><content type='html'>Okay! Since I have discovered the world of blogging I realize that it can be a bit addicting so I have limited myself to just a few to keep up with. (You all know I have nothing better to do with my time than sit at this computer!) But, now I am venturing out on this journey of doing one myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see there is nothing very spectacular about this so any of you more seasoned bloggers can you give me any advice on sprucing up this page? Really any help would be wonderful. I don't even know how to put pictures on this thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3054687058989971634-6641211340031585344?l=mggoslings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/feeds/6641211340031585344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3054687058989971634&amp;postID=6641211340031585344' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6641211340031585344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3054687058989971634/posts/default/6641211340031585344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mggoslings.blogspot.com/2007/04/here-i-go.html' title='Here I Go!'/><author><name>Terra@mggoslings</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03223684706614081444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
