tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85203143446566702792024-02-02T16:35:13.829-08:00Selah Joy CompanyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-46351567769739298992015-08-20T09:30:00.001-07:002015-08-20T18:54:24.342-07:00The D word<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Stop licking your sister!" "If you don't stop Facetiming right now, I'm taking away your iPad for a week!" "Pause the game! and say sorry to your brother!""Put a bubble in your mouth and do not talk back to me!" "If you don't do what I say right now, I am going to show you what a spanking is!" "GO TO SLEEP right now! If I hear another noise, I am putting you on the porch!" <- I was really desperate then. Also, chill out.. I would never. Okay, I did. Once, just to scare her into listening. Oh the guilt. It didn't even work.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The D word. Not THAT D word. I'm talking Discipline. oh, discipline. Somebody needs to just help a mama out. My favorite thing to do is listen to the naive people who aren't yet parents, tell me how they are going to discipline. Oh, yeah? You're not going to bribe? You're going to give them options and then let them make a wise choice? Natural consequences, huh? Oh, so if they don't get ready quickly then they'll just suffer from being late.. all the time. Great. Sounds good. You're going to have rules, and consequence charts with little stickers and a time out stool that they stay put on? Gotcha. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">...then I sit back and watch. Because y'all have no idea. Most people find a book or a method or a guru of parenting and use that as their holy grail to disciplining their child. Yes, I know THE BIBLE all my righteous people say... Yup, I have a rod I'd like to guide my kid with sometimes... upside the head. (That's probably something I shouldn't say. Like people won't get my sense of humor and will be all.. "she beats her kids". But I have no filter.. So disclaimer: I'm kidding). You can have whatever theory on discipline you'd like to think you'll follow but when your kids are going bat-crap-crazy in the grocery store aisle and one is kicking, and the other is bigger so she's climbing out of the cart and using some sassy talk while rolling her eyes that makes the hair on your neck stand up, all while the baby is crying and the people are staring.. you grab whatever is on the shelf next to you that contains sugar and you open it and threaten their lives unless they sit still and eat it. The discipline tool I think everyone follows is a little something called: Experience. Because you don't know, 'til ya know. You know what I'm saying'? I SWORE I would never do my mom's stank face. I call it, "the Carole look" (sry ma!) and if you have a southern mama, you know the look. It's got one eye squinted, one eye bulged, and the lips are pursed and when you see it... you better stop what you're doing and get your butt within earshot so she can whisper the smack down that she is about to place on you. Well, I pull that sucker out like a secret weapon in all places public. And then I smile like Susie Homemaker at all passerbyers because I'm a crazy person who has it all together. :)</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As an adult, we think we are beyond discipline. I mean, the only privilege to having to "adult" all the time is getting to make up your own rules right? This morning God whispered to me... "You need discipline". Suddenly, as that word sat with me for a minute, it seemed evident in every aspect of my life at this very moment how discipline is the theme.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Whoever made up the saying "slept like a baby" didn't have one. We're learning that coffee and low expectations make the world go 'round these days. If I don't discipline myself to sleep at appropriate times and not fall into the trap of my baby's time sleeping being my only "free time" then I am dog tired the next day.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have a second grader and a little one in VPK. With school starting this week, it has been my first few days of getting everyone up, fed, and DRESSED (pj days fo' life) AND out the door by 7:30 AM. I have been so frustrated with my children's lack of "quickness" on these mornings that I am rushing them and annoyed by the time we leave. I toss my kiddos into their day with a frantic and hurried anxiety filled morning to start them off. The easy way out would be to blame them. To point out their need for discipline. BUT I need to be disciplined. I need to prepare the night before and wake up earlier. I need to give them the time they need to set the tone for a peaceful and joy-filled day. Getting up 15 minutes before them would allow me a cup of coffee and a moment alone and with God. How hard is it as parents to realize WE need to be corrected.</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Dr. cleared me last week for working out. DANG IT! There does my "I have to wait for the doctor" excuse. Not that I'm trying to rush off this weight or anything (nursing usually sucks it off... quite literally for me) BUT I battled anxiety this pregnancy and I just FEEL better in general when I get to sweat a bit each day. Three kids later, I know I need to manage my time for myself and squeeze in that time. It is my fault if I don't have time, not theirs. I am a better mama when I take better care of myself. End of story. Self, work out.. or sit in the corner and don't whine about it. </span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe the first child is the "trick ya" child. In my case she was an angel. She slept through the night at a few weeks old, she could form sentences at a year old and she potty trained herself. She </span>naturally<span style="font-family: inherit;"> "tricked us" into having the second. Ya know, because we thought all kids were that easy. The second baby was my mama's boy. He is wild and a character builder for sure. He </span>basically<span style="font-family: inherit;"> has me wrapped around his finger and could do no wrong though. Our third baby has proven to be the hardest. She is making sure she is THE LAST. </span>She<span style="font-family: inherit;"> started this off by killing me softly from the inside during my entire pregnancy and has continued to be a bit tricky ever since. She had a horrible rash which has led me to an elimination diet since I am breastfeeding. I went dairy-free, egg-free, nut-free, soy-free, citrus-free and no spicy foods. It also might be chemical so we changed our lotions, soap, shampoos, </span>face<span style="font-family: inherit;"> wash, makeup, no perfume, fabric </span>softeners, <span style="font-family: inherit;">and different detergents. Basically I am a </span>stinky<span style="font-family: inherit;"> and starving mess. Talk about discipline. Dessert and cheese are two of my main food groups. </span>Wahhhh... Let's have a moment of silence for Chocolate Tower Truffle Cake from The Cheesecake Factory ...... Thanks. I can't tell you the amount of discipline this has enforced upon me. It is absolutely humbling and horrid.<br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">God has placed a TON of things on my heart lately. I always planned to have my kids and then when they went to school to pursue my things. Well, when we had two children, that was the plan. My oldest is in 2nd grade and my youngest (then. middle now) is in VPK. That would've given me three days a week to be kidless and to pursue something outside of our home. Now we have our sweet Adella with me and that plan got pushed back about 5 years. ha! God is swirling in my heart some thoughts and feelings. Some "you don't have to wait" feelings. Some "do it now!" feelings. All of the sudden I want to grow my husbands business, write a blog, write a book, go back to school, and get moving WHILE I mama. Who would've thought? With that being said, as mother's we give our all to our kids. We sacrifice everything down to our ability to scroll our phone while we poop like our husbands get to do (hello?! who takes 40 minutes to go to the bathroom!?), because there are actual humans in the room talking to us the entire time. Don't deny that friends. Honesty is the best policy. So in order to thrive as a mom and as a person, one does not have to wait, but I need... DISCIPLINE. I need time management. I need to focus. I DO NOT need everything at Target. I DO need to invest in our future. I need to STOP reading blog post after blog post of other beautiful women on fire for God and I need to BE the woman writing blog post after blog post on fire for God. I DO NOT need to talk more about what Jesus wants me to do. I DO NEED to get up and do it!</span><br>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just the same as I need my children to be disciplined, in order for God's work in my life to flourish, I need to be disciplined in Him: </span><br>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For people who hate discipline</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and only get more stubborn,</span></span></div>
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There’ll come a day when life tumbles in and they break,</div>
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<span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-29-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">but by then it’ll be too late to help them.</span></div>
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Wise discipline imparts wisdom;</div>
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<span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-29-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">spoiled adolescents embarrass their parents.</span></div>
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When degenerates take charge, crime runs wild</div>
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<span class="indent-1-breaks" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Prov-29-16" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">but the righteous will eventually observe their collapse.</span></div>
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Discipline your children; you’ll be glad you did</div>
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they’ll turn out delightful to live with.</div>
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If people can’t see what God is doing</div>
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they stumble all over themselves;</div>
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But when they attend to what he reveals</div>
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they are most blessed.</div>
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Proverbs 29:15-18</div>
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I want to be wise. I do not want to be an embarrassment to God and waste my days in my own head. I want to dutifully raise God fearing children and exhaust the gifts He has boiled up in me. I want to be reactive to God's discipline and not be the little girl "sitting out on the porch" because God said "ONE MORE TIME AND..." I want to be obedient because I know JUST how frustrating it is to be the parent with a wayward child. If that's you, pray with me...</div>
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Lord, correct me. Open my eyes to the areas of discipline for me where I am just a toddler kicking my feet on the floor and you are saying "you better do this or else..." Show me where in my life you are ever so patiently counting to three and giving me every chance (2 1/2....) to get up and do what you say. God almighty let me look in the mirror and gently give myself grace but sternly have a reality check. Let me fix me. Let it not be everyone else in every situation that needs to be fixed. Let "adulting" mean more than being serious and boring but to also be brave and compassionate. Guide my steps to your plan. May my mouth not only speak but my actions do. Help me use my gifts for your glory. Help me be focused. Help me to have a mission. Help me to eliminate the noise. Discipline me, oh Lord. Like the caring Father that you are, that wants the best for His child. Me. Your precious child. Lord, make me susceptible to all you want to do in me... and Lord if you could maybe ease up on the rebellion from my own children. That'd be AWESOME. I know they are probably a "taste of my own medicine" but when I asked you to give me patience.. I didn't really want the situations to flex that muscle. I know you understand. ;). Thank you Lord for your righteous guidance. Thank you Lord for your sacrifice. Please God, help me to be obedient. I pray this all in your precious name. Amen </div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-73076595193080190302015-08-19T18:40:00.000-07:002015-08-19T19:35:11.956-07:00It takes a village...yeah yeah yeah, I should do a "catch up" post since we've been busy and all adding a human to our family and I have given you the silent treatment for a while, but I'll get there. For now, I have to write whats fresh in my head because these days, I can remember NOTHING. So...<br>
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1, 2, skip a few, we had a baby.<br>
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She's presh. I love her to pieces, I will gush on her another day. But I had to tell you that to tell you this story. Otherwise, you'd be all "what baby" and my life lesson would be lost in the shuffle. But I digress, here she is and today.. she had an adventure.<br>
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Say hello to Titus...<br>
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He is our wild one, the character builder, the mamas boy. There is not a mess he can not make, an item he can not break, nor a ledge too high for him to jump from. He is covered in scrapes and bruises and normally food. :) </div>
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Today we dropped my oldest off at school and headed home, just us three. I set Titus up on the couch with some cartoons, an orange juice, and his toy puppy while Adella was chillin' out newborn style across the living room in her Mamaroo. (Not strapped in, because she's my third child and I live dangerously). As I noticed the window of opportunity (read: two seconds to pee in peace!) I jolted to the half bath about 20 feet away. I swear I took about 2 minutes total, when I thought I heard the baby fuss so I quickly opened the door and rushed into the living room. A very calm 4 year old was sitting on the couch playing with his adorable 6 week old little sisters feet who was RIGHT NEXT TO HIM ON THE COUCH! </div>
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I took a brief mental second to think if I'm losing my mind and where I left the baby.. but after a sidebar with myself, I quickly realized my four year old had picked up my tiny newborn and carried her across the room, around the coffee table, and placed her onto the couch. My weapon of mass destruction boy who needs a sippy cup because he can not even carry a cup of juice from the counter to the table without spilling it... CARRIED MY INFANT ACROSS THE ROOM. </div>
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Spoiler alert: she's fine. I had a meltdown and was a bad yelling and crying mommy. I checked her limbs and her neck and her eyes. Whew. She survived. After he finished crying from my very precise and studied parenting theory called "put the fear of death in them"... we talked about the rules and what could happen and what he is allowed to do and what he may not do. Then I let him hold her sitting on the coach to earn back mommy points. </div>
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At first I thought, no one will hear a word about this! Number one, DCF would come knocking on my door. If the goose egg of a bruise on my son's face a few weeks ago and the "dead" tooth that he hit so hard it killed the root and turned his tooth gray permanently, didn't have them hopping over to my house for tea, then my 4 year old babysitting the newborn would definitely get their attention. Not to mention, the ladies who always tell me "you're super mommy" will burn my cape in protest at the news of this horrid incident. </div>
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BUT THEN... I shared. I shared what happened because well, I'm an over-sharer. I share everything but my dessert and my glass of milk (gross!). I reluctantly posted my experience online so that other mamas might think twice before trusting their curious older children in the room. I went out on the limb as a mommy martyr. Thinking I would be burnt on the stake for the sake of a warning to mamas. Bring on the judgement and the well meaning alas annoying "advice".</div>
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To my surprise, I was not humiliated in mommy court. I was not found guilty or burnt to death with mommy guilt and comparison. The mamas all replied with the two greatest words any mama could ever hear. </div>
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<b><i><u>ME TOO</u></i></b></div>
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There were stories of when it happened to them with their kids or their mamas! I even had some mama's "up me" in the crazy incident department! I know sometimes we can't always relate to other moms in what they're going through during this crazy thing called motherhood, but the point is we can be there for each other. The saying "it takes a village" doesn't always mean physically. Sometimes it's what other moms DON'T do that is actually more helpful. Like, when they don't judge or dissect a situation but they let you in on a little secret. WE ARE ALL IN THE TRENCHES TOGETHER. We all will not do this perfectly. We will screw up and it is okay. We can support each other by being real and honest and transparent. </div>
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I have no clue how moms in the past without such easy ways of communication survived. Because behind the pretty closed curtains are moms sitting in living rooms thinking, I am the only one, and no one is going to find out about this. My kids will need so much therapy. But the truth? Well, they will need therapy, save for that now. BUT you are not the only one. There is a mama who has been through it, is going through it now, or better put on her big girl panties because it's coming for her. </div>
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It is my hearts desire that all mamas feel the peace I felt when those moms joined with me today in my parenting, without even knowing it, and said "It's okay mama. I've been there." Thank you ladies. Thank you for healing my mama heart of guilt and fear. Thank you for being the feet of God today. For rallying together in our tribe of raising these little humans. You rock. </div>
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Let's do this more. Let's help each other more. Let's give each other grace and support. Let's judge less. Let's be vulnerable and open and transparent because you never know who needs to feel like they aren't the only one. </div>
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Here's Titus giving her some toys and even his precious Hulk as a peace offering.<br>
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Alls well that ends well. Adella forgave him and even threw on a little t-shirt love in support of her love for her main man...</div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-90593262014651114242015-03-10T07:34:00.001-07:002015-03-10T12:11:54.581-07:00Job well done!<br>
Yesterday was the first day of daylight savings time. It is absolutely crazy to me that one little hour change can totally rock my world. Like... I wanted to nap ALL DANG DAY. I'm going to blame it on the baby.. because, well, she can't defend herself. **Speaking of baby!** I video'd her yesterday because you can see her move from the outside of my belly now! I'd share the video but my belly button looks like the end of a hot dog at the moment and that's just oversharing.. even for me.<br>
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So the point being that bed time for the kiddos could not come soon enough. I put dinner on the table at 5 o'clock on the dot, because, hello... that is like when the worship team comes to the stage during the sermon "THE END IS NEAR". After we ate, and cleaned up, and fed the dog and the bunnies and watered our plants, and took a bath, brushed our teeth, got on pajamas and read our bible (tired yet?) I was literally scooting the kids into their rooms like a snow plow. I told them both to go to their beds and I would be right there. I had a second to myself downstairs in the kitchen before the always-drawn-out process of goodnight salutations, and blessings, and kisses, and "I'm thirsties", and stories I have to tell you right now about a caterpillar from two weeks ago.<br>
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In the quickness of that moment, I heard God's voice. As our Pastor said this past Sunday... God is ALWAYS talking, we just have to listen. Sometimes I hear a quick snippet from God but I'm too busy, I'm too distracted, I'm too focused. All too often, I convince myself that it is just one of the voices in my head (yes, there are many) and I move on. This time though, I didn't.<br>
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My prayer to God daily is "make my day count" and "give me joy in the mundane". When my head hits the pillow at night, I usually overlook the answered prayers and just think I'll try again tomorrow. I'm so tired of feeling like a day was "wasted" or insignificant, so I decided NOT THIS TIME. God said, "Celebrate the small. You ask for your days to be magnificent, and they ARE. But you just don't give them the attention they deserve. I've answered your prayers."<br>
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Both kiddos had told me about something they were super excited about that day. Sienna got "presidential" on both the running and the sit-and-reach tests for physical fitness in P.E. class and Titus walked on the "tiny balance beam" in tumbling class that's really hard when he normally does "the baby one". Those tasks seemed trivial, of course, when I have blinders on to what a "successful day" looks like in the adult world. However, to my babies, my 4 and 7 year old, whom are God's greatest gifts that He has leant to me as one of my life's greatest missions and purposes for His kingdom and glory, view these accomplishments as acts of grander. I don't know about you but sometimes it would be nice to stand at a sink full of dishes with a commentator behind me clapping and saying "yeah, girl. Wash that dish. Dang you're a good dish washer. BRAVO! You are magnificent!" That would make me feel like what I was doing counted. That would make me realize God has answered my prayers. It is no different for them.<br>
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So I yelled out to my little minions.... COME DOWNSTAIRS I HAVE A SURPRISE! I got them each a brownie and announced to each one how proud I was of their accomplishment that day and we clapped and deemed it "a celebration"!!!! They grinned from ear to ear and this ensued...<br>
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It all lasted about 5 minutes and then I switched back into GO TO BED mode. Our little celebratory result was just a quick reminder to me that my days are meaningful. My parenting is meaningful. God is answering my prayers. The problem is that we have our own vision of what that will look like. We have our own plan that we need God to play a pawn in. Oh how it doesn't work like that. God isn't a tool to complete my desires or a genie to grant my wish. He is our father, our teacher, our friend. He is molding us to see HIS way not the other way around. He heard my prayer to "give me joy in the mundane" and He answered it, "the joy is there. Are you looking?"<br>
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I challenge you today. Let go of what you think is worthy of celebration, and listen to all God is jumping for joy in. He's cheering you on at the sink, at the washing machine, in your cubicle, or car line. Take in that round of applause and return the glory around to Him by gifting that to another one of His children... maybe even your own. ;)<br>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-39387824220984954522015-02-19T07:56:00.004-08:002015-02-19T08:08:01.521-08:00We dance.<div>
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Words are a gift of mine. Both to me and from me. God uses them to etch away at all the troubles of my heart. He also uses them to help me reach others. They are my jam. They keep me sane. </div>
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I grew up in dance since I was 18 months old until college. I dreamed of being a prima ballerina and watching The Nutcracker and The Rockettes and basically breathing everything dance. I spent hours in a studio and competitions dancing every week. That's why music is my second gift. A good song speaks to my soul in the most honest way. I think it's the combination of the lyrics and movement. You know how a line in a song seems like an arrow right to your gut and you're getting all preachy, like... "Yes!" Everyone must hear this. That's a Facebook status!" I used music and dance as therapy for most of my youth. Most times when I couldn't find the words (I hadn't quite mustered the courage to be so wordy) I danced it out. "Left it all on the dance floor" as we would say. Dancing to a song with amazing lyrics= my euphoria. </div>
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Now that I'm old (okay I'm not old. Just 26.) But having two kiddos and a third on the way makes your body FEEL old. I don't know about you but I feel like 25 is the magic year. Up until 25 my body did what I wanted and I ate like the Poster Child for Twinkie. Then I turned 26 and God's all, "Now you gotta work for it?!" And then all the wonderful genetics started kicking in.. like saddle bags, and cellulite, and varicose veins, and stretch marks. Don't you just wanna see me naked now? Thank you Baby Jesus for Spanx! Anyways, what was I saying? Oh yes, now that I've got more gray hair than I can keep up with plucking (thanks Grams. I hear you passed this down) my body doesn't allow me to do much more than car dancing and lyric loving behind the wheel. So I get down with my bad self at red lights.<br />
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Wow, that was a long winded intro. But here's the point. Today I was on the way to preschool and I needed a good ole' jam sesh <strike>to drown out the sound of my child</strike> to reach closer to Jesus. ;) THIS song is on a completely legal burnt CD from my wise and faithful leader friend, Lisa. She's like the Master Splinter of finding good music. I'm just a teenage mutant ninja turtle basking in her wisdom.<br />
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Soooo... I've heard it before but THIS time. We had a moment. God and I. Like He said, "this song IS YOURS. It is so true to you and my relationship. To all we've been through and where you are. LISTEN, and rest in it." Let me tell you I sobbed, and I sang, and I pretended that my big ole' pregnant belly self performed a dance with moves I can only still do in my head." Join me. Read these lyrics while you listen to the song....<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">It's painfully obvious... HELLO! We Dance! I dance. God's meeting me where my gift is! In dance! And another funny reason "we dance" is such an intimate thing for me is because in my super rad Mama's group we tend to do "visualizing" a lot. We get a song going and we close our eyes and see what God shows us. Some people see a hot Jesus like in the Old Spice commercials (don't judge. it's not nice), some people see Jesus lit up and glowing, some people can't see Him and that's okay too...but ME I always see my living room from the vantage point of standing at the top of the stairs. I see Jesus cradle me in and slow dance with me, my head on his shoulder and His arm on my back and on my head.... like a dad does to his little girl at a "daddy-daughter dance". Most often times I physically feel my weight sink into Him. Like I'm not even forced into holding myself up. It is intimate. It is magical. It is amazing... So this part gives me that visual...</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>You steady me</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Slow and sweet, we sway<br />Take the lead and I will follow<br />Finally ready now<br />To close my eyes and just believe<br />That You won't lead me<br />Where You don't go</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">All my life, I've fought for love. To get the love I wanted, needed, ached for in ways that were desperate and unsatisfying. How often I feel we all do that. Spend our whole lives fighting to be loved. To meet the qualifications we're told that makes us lovable. To meet the standards of others to make ourselves feel worthy of their love. But the battles already been won. God is Love. He's victorious. He loves us. Here it is..</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>And I've been told</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>To pick up my sword</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>And fight for love</b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>Little did I know</b></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That Love had won for me</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">I've had a lot of life packed in my short years. Lots of joy and lots of mourning. My middle name is "Joy" and so is my daughter's. I think God is so clever that way. One of my main objectives and messages to mama's and friends and loved ones out there is to have JOY in the mundane. He's gifted me a rescue, a sunrise in the morning, a hope, a joy after every struggle. It's represented in the life I lead now. Being 18 and pregnant seemed scary and lonely and well, a struggle. But I see my joy.. my Sienna Joy now and she is the biggest light in my journey of life. In her eyes I saw Jesus. She drew me close to Him. God locked eyes with me. He gave me joy...He helped me dance...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Just you and me<br />And I will lock eyes </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>With the One who's ransomed me<br />The One who gave me joy for mourning<br />And I will lock eyes<br />With the One who's chosen me<br />The One who set my feet to dancing</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">I know this last part doesn't just speak to me. So often, especially as women, and even more so if you are an emotional and deep person like I am.. life can feel lonely. When you feel things so deeply and evaluate situations so intently, it feels like a burden just to live in such a troubled world. but THIS...this line shows us where our peace can be...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>It's nice to know I'm not alone</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16px;"><b>I've found my home here in Your arms</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">What's your song that "God wrote for you"? If you don't have one. Find one! I promise when you feel like the creator of the universe has done such a romantic gesture to meet you in the middle of your living room for a slow dance to an intimate song.. it's magical. It's life changing. It's life giving. I pray each one of you can feel the way I feel when I hear this song. When I feel the relationship I have with God himself deep in my soul. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">And just in case you need some cuteness to debrief from the word vomit I just gave you... Here's my sweet girl at her dance recital when she was younger. (She looks JUST like me here). I pray she dances with Jesus always.</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-36364759759227858212015-02-11T07:11:00.002-08:002015-02-11T08:19:34.714-08:00Help<br>
Today I'm going to break the cardinal rule of "good mommies" everywhere. I'm going to share one of those moments in mommy hood that no one sees.. so we all pretend they don't happen. You know the times where your voice turns into some dragon like sound or you just scream GO TO YOUR ROOMS MOMMY IS GOING TO LOSE IT! Just me? It's okay, denial is not just a river. ;) It's the moments behind closed doors that we are just flawed human beings and we just can't use our Mary Poppins voice to ask "please make wise choices" one more time through a crap-eating grin like we have to do at Chick-fil-a or Publix, or anywhere else the judger-Mc-judgersons are watching.<br>
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I set up the story a bit, well because if not, I just sound like a witch. I caught whatever sickness my kid had last week. It's two days of vomiting and other nonmentionables where you can eat nothing. I'm 20 weeks pregnant so that was my worst nightmare. Not to mention my stomach was contracting in between sessions of nausea in a dry-heave type of way. Got the visual? You're welcome. Basically Hell on Earth. I'm sure of it. A pregnant lady who can't eat a thing and yaks up her entire insides all the while having contractions while not being in labor. Yup. The devil himself created those conditions.<br>
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So fast forward to where I lose my "Mommy of the year" nomination. This was the first morning this week that I woke up without feeling like death, and somehow it looked like my house had turned into a war zone. As I got the kiddos ready and out the door, I already had my days missions and check list and food I was going to eat on my mind. The last thing I yelled as I grabbed my keys and phone was, "Sienna, throw on your jacket and grab your backpack. Then get it in the car. Hurry! You have enrichment before school!" We make it to school at 7:47.. two minutes late to enrichment but that's like basically on time if you know me well, so I considered it a victory.<br>
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"Okay, take off your seat belt, grab your bag, get ready to tuck and roll.." Okay, I'm kidding about the tuck and roll but these safety patrols at carline are no joke. They are all sorts of rushing and it makes me nervous so we have to get ready for the dismount. (Welcome to my children's world. They have a mother who is afraid of 5th grade safety patrols. How did I even qualify for this position?) The look of fear comes over my daughter's face. She repeatedly looks around in the same spots over and over again to avoid eye contact with me and to seem busy... like her backpack was going to magically appear in our car the second time around.<br>
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That's when I did it. I rang her a new one. "How could you forget your backpack?! I said GRAB YOUR BACKPACK! I have so much to do Sienna!? Do you know some girls your age have to fold laundry and clean and help their mommy so much and I just asked your to get your own back pack!" I cry as I type what I remember saying, because immune to it in my fit of rage.. I can clearly see her face now as I remember. Sad, lonely, afraid, feeling like she's not enough, and unloved. "Now I have to go all the way home and grab it and come all the way back! You always want Mommy to do more for you! It's never enough!" Then she said nothing. and I said nothing. The dang short and stumpy dark-haired kid opened the door with a grin... "Good Morning!" he said as his words cut through the harsh tension that flooded out of my car. He quickly looked down and just shut the door. I let my sweet girl get out of the "safety" of our car into the big wide world to start her day without a kiss and a goodbye. My heart breaks. Instant shame. Instant grief.<br>
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I wasn't even out of the school parking lot when I thought about why what just happened, happened. I do that all the time, I dissect things. On a deeper level, always. It's a blessing, and a curse. My response to my girl immediately reflected back to me, and really had nothing to do with her. So often my "issues" with my kids are direct reflections of how I feel.<br>
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The last two days had been horrible. I was bathing kids in between hugging the toilet. I was making breakfast in between being curled in a ball on the bathroom floor. I know you're thinking... stop whining! But even as a mom you think... someone save me! PS: don't grow up. It's a trap. The days of hours in bed with gatorade and chicken noodle soup and cartoons when you're sick... ARE OVER! But deeper than that.. ever since I was younger I've had this pressure to have the mentality of handle it all yourself! Whether those around me intentionally or subconciously meant to.. the vibe I got from the world was, "you don't need help. you need to deal with it." It's funny because I come from a line of STRONG women. They've been dealt hands in life that you JUST CAN'T IMAGINE. And they pride themselves on not needing a dang thing from anyone else. They tough it out. They conquer and kick butt and take names. Man that's a lot of pressure to live up to.<br>
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Maybe I'm more sensitive, or maybe I've had the revelation that each one of them and us as women can only handle this life on our own for so long before it catches up to us. This whole week I've cried as I repeatedly thought all of the lies... "where's my help?" "I'm so unloved" "I just want to be important to somebody!" I envied other people that I could remember who have others "swoop in and save the day" when they have a paper cut. Here I am again, in a childlike state... "you don't need help. you need to deal with it."<br>
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I looked in the rearview mirror at myself. My little girl self and saw eyes that said, "Sad, lonely, afraid, feeling like she's not enough, and unloved." I had been screaming to my little girl the exact harsh words I felt the world telling me. The last two days, my whole life, in all the hard times. I'm regurgitating and repeating the cycle that if she needs help, it's a burden. That I am conditionally here for her and there's a limit to what I will do for her. Do I want my little girl to be independent and strong and courageous and responsible? Yes. But more importantly I want her to be secure in knowing I've got her back. That the world is tough and strong enough without her being tough too. She can be vulnerable, and soft, and sensitive, and forgetful, and I will be there to help her.<br>
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So besides starting a therapy fund along with her college fund.. I came home to get her backpack. I wrote a note that said<br>
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<i>Sweet Girl, </i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>I am so sorry that I got so frustrated that you forgot your backpack. Mistakes happen. It's okay. Mommy makes mistakes all the time. You are perfect and loved just the way you are. I love you. </i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>Sorry! Love,</i><br>
<i>Mommy </i><br>
<i>Your biggest fan </i><br>
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Then I pinned it on the outside of her backpack and dropped it off in the office. I was intentional not to hide the note so she can see that we don't have to be ashamed of our mistakes. We just have to own up to them. I'm praying she forgives me. I know it won't be the last time. I'll have plenty of apologizing in my future to my sweet little girl and the little girl that looks back at me in the mirror...<br>
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Just in case no one has ever said it to you....<br>
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<i>Dear BELOVED jacked-up child of God,</i><br>
<i><br></i>
<i>You are perfect just the way you are. </i><br>
<i>Mistakes happen. It's okay. You're forgiven.</i><br>
<i>The pressures of this world are hard and scary and overbearing. </i><br>
<i>You are not alone. </i><br>
<i>You deserve help. </i><br>
<i>If there's not a helping hand to reach out to because people are self consumed and sometimes</i><br>
<i>just oblivious to your need (maybe they even asked but you're still used to the generic </i><br>
<i>"Awww thanks but I'm okay" answer....</i><br>
<i>REACH OUT TO ME. Cast your worries on me. </i><br>
<i>Tell me all about them. I'll listen. I'll lighten your load. </i><br>
<i>My yoke (dunno what the means? Me either. Let's translate: it's the wooden piece on the back of two oxen's back to keep them together while in the field. AKA: the weight on your shoulders!)</i><br>
<i>MY BURDENS are easy. Let's trade. </i><br>
<i>If no one's ever told you... Tell yourself in the mirror,</i><br>
<i>"You are loved. You are important to the creator of the stars" </i><br>
<i>Let me help you. I love you....</i><br>
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<i>So much love.</i><br>
<i>(I hate to speak for God. BUT I'm pretty sure he'd say that)</i><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_51Z73CcM4kBD66D8QRb__GDcEfNXg7oq2M6wM0QuXxlUe5z3yVBohoxX-R8SRcAbGpdlIJC0fQdzlzlXRtMrO9LOWsXjAp1oHU39kUuvFlSq7CWgmvsk-EAOMy_u5SwxQ9md_u90B3J/s1600/IMG_3594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_51Z73CcM4kBD66D8QRb__GDcEfNXg7oq2M6wM0QuXxlUe5z3yVBohoxX-R8SRcAbGpdlIJC0fQdzlzlXRtMrO9LOWsXjAp1oHU39kUuvFlSq7CWgmvsk-EAOMy_u5SwxQ9md_u90B3J/s1600/IMG_3594.jpg" height="400" width="300"></a></div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-55367004401789520302015-01-27T11:07:00.002-08:002015-01-27T11:07:20.102-08:00Just write<div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"> It's been ages since I've posted on here. I guess you could say life happens. The wind has been out of my sail and my words felt a bit empty. I'm nothing if not sincere, so the reality was I just didn't have anything to say (please someone catch my husband. He will faint when he reads that.) Until last night, I am reading Carry On, Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton and came across these words,</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;"> </span><i><span style="font-size: 12px;">"If, anywhere in your soul, you feel the desire to write, please write. Write as a gift to yourself and others. Everyone has a story to tell. Writing is not about creating tidy paragraphs that sound lovely or choosing the "right" words. It's just about noticing who you are and noticing life and sharing what you notice. When you write your </span></i><i><span style="font-size: 12px;">truth, it is a love offering to the world because it helps us feel braver and less alone." </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Like a dagger, right to my heart. I felt those words leap right off the page. So I am. Awkwardly fumbling around with a "catch up" blog post 7 months later with no new decor or parties or eye candy to gift you. Just a bucket-ton of emotions and a word vomit of sensitivity and deepness way too heavy to carry alone. Warning: I haven't had coffee yet, and I haven't done yoga yet either. So crap can get ugly. </span></span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">I</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">t's Tuesday. Ehh, just Tuesday, January 27th 2015. My intention was to post a super inspiring Facebook status about seizing the day! But then I wrote the day up there and personally the date makes me sad. It was the date my parents got married 25 years ago (they're divorced.. feels like recently to me but I think it's 2 years?). I'm timid to write about how I feel today because well a lot of what's going on in my life involves others (uhhh duh? If it were just me and myself here, we'd be having a fantastic conversation about how awesome we are, eating lasagna and chocolate cake and watching Property Brother reruns.) But alas, there are characters in my life and they have stories that intertwine with mine. So I hesitate because I don't want to share their story for them. But here's the thing... My story matters too. And whether those around us want to admit it or not. Their actions, their choices, their stories.. well, they effect us and our stories. So I'm just going to share MY story in hopes that someone else that is out there doesn't feel alone. Because as much as I joked up there about it being great if I were alone, the truth is we all need someone else to be with us... you know, to agree with how awesome we think we are. ;) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">So today I have am overwhelmed. I am aware that I am blessed abundantly but also have lost greatly. I can sulk my day away. But that's not my style. Instead, I can revel in the fact that God rose the sun and I feel it's warmth on my skin amongst the cool wind. I've come to realize with the reality of what my family is today, I've lost in many many ways that make my heart feel unwhole. Most recently I've felt way too broken to "let my light shine" for others. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">I'm an adult, I get it. My parents relationship, and fights with my siblings should roll off my shoulders. I have a family of my own now and should undoubtedly own a pair of big-girl panties. Maybe I'm way too sensitive or maybe I'm still a child at heart or a hopeless romantic but the brokenness, the division, the ideal being washed away has lingered like a dark cloud. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Often other people's response to any person in the middle of the storm is to encourage them through it. To "speed up" the process to the timeframe that we deem acceptable for the pity party. I catch my self way too often (because I'm super empathetic) trying to do anything to take away the pain from a person but to me that just doesn't feel right. Who are we to rush someone else's story? It's like when you host your child's birthday party at one of those places that allows you 2 hours. And they're all "time for food, time for cake, take the presents home to open them!" and you're left thinking... "uhhh that was the fasted 300 bucks I've ever spent". </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">Okay, that's a lie. I once worked all day at an arts festival on Park Avenue only to walk past a mens store that was having a "sale". If you're familiar with Park Avenue you know that you can't even get an OJ for less $10 dollars, so sale means... the slightly less rich people than the rich people can buy this... on credit. Anyways, there was a pair of dress shoes that I imagined my husband walking in (mostly his butt but I envisioned the shoes too) and I knew he had to have them. My stomach knotted up as I saw the price and I realized it would literally be EVERY dime I just earned from working all day, but that man has spoiled me from the very beginning and I barely get to give him half of what he deserves. THAT was the fasted 300 bucks I've ever spent. But man when he wears those shoes (and anything really) I hate to seem him go but LOVE to watch him leave. ;) </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">What was I saying? Oh yes, I'm a hot mess. I suppose I just want to say IT HURTS. Whatever your situation, whatever your heartbreak, whatever storm... ENDURE IT. Don't feel pressure to pretend it didn't leave its mark on you. Often times, especially as followers of Christ people expect us to be "healed" or "fixed" or "whole" constantly. That's just not true. In fact the whole reason I am a follower of Christ is because I am completely broken. He is the one who is whole. He is the rock of which I stand. He actually promised that we have troubles in this life. These troubles, these hurts, in our lives will always leave our hearts unwhole. But His love is always chasing after us. It's a love that holds all the pieces of our brokenness together.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">So today, I choose to see that the sun has risen. The wind still blows. God still has control. But it doesn't have to look pretty with a bow just yet... I'm still sad. I still miss what was. I still wish things were different. I am forever different because I have lost. I don't want anyone to make it better. I just want it to be, and to embrace the lesson I'm supposed to take from it all. The constant theme that I am coming across in my devotion, Instagram feeds, and book is LOVE. How ironic. Maybe, just maybe my lesson is love. Uneasy love. Unperfect love. Unpleasant love. But fierce, unwavering, unconditional, and unending love for others will help. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;">In my Yoga class, the Yogi (is that what you call the teacher? I always think of the bear, so I'll have to come up with something else to call them) has a "closing".. something super crunchy like "the light in me, acknowledges the light in you" or "eat dessert, namaste"... so I feel the need to be super cool and have a peace-out like they do:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12px;"><b>I leave you with this: "We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full." </b></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-18302632448577625832014-06-09T14:36:00.001-07:002014-06-09T14:36:48.629-07:00.....me too.Today I posted a picture to Instagram that I didn't necessarily want to. It was a picture of me in a vulnerable moment after crying. Sometimes God leads me and I question His voice, His purpose, His decision.. but this time it was clear. Share this moment. and so I did. <br />
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Most of the time, we use this platform we have on social media to create a very controlled, very favorable, very safe image of ourselves to the world around us. We take a good 10 different pictures at different angles to get the one that shows us in the most flattering way. We post a loving and sweet declaration of love to our spouses on our anniversary's after a two day long non-speaking marathon of bickering and name calling. Our short tempered selves pose smiling and squeezed in close with our bundles of joy. The caption reads "having a blast at the park" which actually means, drowning ourselves in our phone while they run around half-way supervised because we need space from these littles that we love but are driving us so stinking bonkers that we'd rather be anywhere else at that moment. (mom guilt).<br />
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It's unfair really. For us to get to determine what we share with others. Like, our highlight reel goes online while our bloopers stay behind the scenes. It's unfair because it really makes us all feel so alone. It makes us feel like the rough days only happen to us. The sad times, the struggles, the burdens, the boredom with life, and the imperfection is only apparent in our own lives while everyone else is tap dancing on rainbows through a magical meadow of skittles and unicorns. <br />
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The truth is, the happiest of people have moments. You know, the moments where you come across a picture, a memory, a moment where it all has built up and finally spills over, a moment of frustration or disappointment, and sadness or tears fill those moments. The most joyous of them all have bad days. The very second I posted that picture I thought, I have to delete it. I don't want anyone to think, "she needs attention". I didn't want my intentions to be misjudged or to get a bunch of people asking me "whats wrong". I feel like when someone cries in front of you, you see a piece of their soul. They are vulnerable, they are open, they are humbled, they are so human in that moment. I wanted to share a tear with those on this cheese ball of a "social network" so that when someone else out there, some mom, some daughter, some friend, some husband, some person has tears pouring down their face they can say ... me too. They can see that sadness can come and its okay, but joy can come in the morning. I want to use this platform that I have, to be real. To be broken. To be hopeful. To show grace and to receive it. I want to smile with you all, laugh with you all, have joy and heartache with you all. After all, this life is better when we all experience it together...<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently then ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief... And unspeakable love." </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">-Washington Irving </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">If I can be the poster child for joy and happiness on here than I owe it to you to humbly share a moment of sadness. Tears are okay. Don't be afraid of hurt, grief, fear, or </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">brokenness. The Bible promises that in this world we will have trouble, yet the greatest news is that we don't have to stay there.... "But take heart! I have overcome the world." Sweet friends, Stop. Breathe. Cry if you must. Sadness is just another emotion, you can experience it but don't like it overtake you. Pass through it like a small town on a road trip, you take in it's beauty but you keep on moving... <i class="_4-k1 img sp_Aw392G9WkqT sx_68f119" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yO/r/FHrytpDl6B1.png); background-position: -119px -851px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i></span><br />
<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-45756789803341069292014-04-07T12:14:00.001-07:002014-04-07T12:14:14.308-07:00Titus' Super Hero 3rd Birthday Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Surprise! I'm back for round two in one day! Miss me? </div>
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I'm showing you Titus' third birthday party that we celebrated over a MONTH ago. Note to self: give people their thank you cards! (I'm the worst at that. Yup, an event planner that's bad at thank you cards. The shame.) So I know a picture is worth a thousand words and you'll probably just skim the pictures anyway sooooo without further ado. Here ya go:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheV_a0EZOEbf63J2pDnkqzmwBnEnSXCOHHEMBDNn021QhBhKRMegjbDENRYSnSJzQsdPOpQO1GlmhMN84NYgDh8iiCrXUSpDrQvZlHpZF4NStiniHT5s48vUS4bN29YiOTh1YPRk6xP6q4/s1600/IMG_3014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheV_a0EZOEbf63J2pDnkqzmwBnEnSXCOHHEMBDNn021QhBhKRMegjbDENRYSnSJzQsdPOpQO1GlmhMN84NYgDh8iiCrXUSpDrQvZlHpZF4NStiniHT5s48vUS4bN29YiOTh1YPRk6xP6q4/s1600/IMG_3014.JPG" height="446" width="640" /></a></div>
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Hope you liked it! Any questions just ask me! This was all really planned in about a week or two so I'd consider it sort of "thrown together" but I work best under pressure. ;) Love my little man to the moon. Happy (late) Birthday (party) Titus!</div>
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Most paper products are Target or Party City</div>
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The printables I found on a blog via Pinterest <a href="http://lessthanperfectlifeofbliss.blogspot.com.au/2013/01/grants-super-16-superhero-birthday.html?m=1">Here</a></div>
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The cookies are from my very favorite go-to cookie place <a href="http://thecookiecousins.com/">The Cookie Cousins</a></div>
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Chairs from <a href="http://www.kirbytent.com/">Kirby Rentals</a></div>
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Invite from <a href="https://www.etsy.com/transaction/183373061?ref=fb2_tnx_title">2birdstudios</a></div>
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Superman canvas from Hobby Lobby</div>
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Batman hired from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GothamCityFXco">Gotham City FX</a></div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-17906658513000947932014-04-07T07:19:00.001-07:002014-04-07T07:32:51.014-07:00Random Monday PostWhy hellooooo there!? It has been quite a while since I've had word vomit on here (apparently I like to sneak as many gross words into my everyday talk as possible. poop. you're welcome.) I blame my absence on my complete inability to be consistent with anything.. ever. I even was going to write a post 3 weeks ago pledging that consistency is the key to fixing my life and that I was going to vow from that point forward to be consistent. Whew. Thank God I didn't do something crazy like proclaim that. ;) So I gift you.. inconsistency with a pretty little bow on top. That I of course crafted myself out of recycled organic macaroni-n-cheese boxes... so we can just go ahead and pretend I'm being organized and crafty all at once.<br />
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In all seriousness, it's been a little crazy 'round these parts. Let's see, March 16th we left on the TRIP OF OUR LIVES to Colombia. I wanted to let everyone know we would be out of the country and post a nice farewell note because I was super excited. However, my husband advised me to not be so friendly and helpful towards all the creepers and robbers on the internet. Touché, hubs, touché. He is totally the brains.. and the looks...Why did he marry me again?! Anywho, we set off to have the time of our lives.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgHI_H7WdAfi2vbrwsg5BSbVmBBt8WqTp-DtVBLwWl2tk6WBqjHdSyngiNxpxeLZ9pmAf0wfQPXHMAEgjrLhexxjAP0RnvVgl1za-FlqqV71hp9K-dFdUlAfkkjcMI805sFlylR5_SutD/s1600/IMG_1936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgHI_H7WdAfi2vbrwsg5BSbVmBBt8WqTp-DtVBLwWl2tk6WBqjHdSyngiNxpxeLZ9pmAf0wfQPXHMAEgjrLhexxjAP0RnvVgl1za-FlqqV71hp9K-dFdUlAfkkjcMI805sFlylR5_SutD/s1600/IMG_1936.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'm going to do a vacation recap VERY soon, I just have to <strike>photoshop all the pictures of me in a bikini</strike> edit the pictures. One of the days we were on vacation we were so honored to be able to join a local church in a sort of "one day missions trip" on an island off the coast and in all honesty, processing that day has caused me to remain silent on here. I couldn't think of anything else. I couldn't digest the sadness. I couldn't come up with words that would give what I saw the justice it deserves. So, I promise I will share it all with you, when Jesus heals my heart and gives me words.<br />
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In the meantime here's some tidbits of what we've been up to...<br />
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K5 led chapel at Sienna's school and on the big screen my sweet girl answered "God loves me because..." with "He sent Jesus to die for my sins." Proud Mama Moment.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJ2_UTE8V4-RZp3VZymCpyRGn3BerRP5YDwJNu5muy4-mMOTFLUUk5pJF23T0sHXtkb-jTKmOXtaCq3fFmt2d1_vamEjRUzvEXV0wNT9D5br84j0V3UW_8T58EvjG8ne03BrkmQKi_ydc/s1600/IMG_3024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJ2_UTE8V4-RZp3VZymCpyRGn3BerRP5YDwJNu5muy4-mMOTFLUUk5pJF23T0sHXtkb-jTKmOXtaCq3fFmt2d1_vamEjRUzvEXV0wNT9D5br84j0V3UW_8T58EvjG8ne03BrkmQKi_ydc/s1600/IMG_3024.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sometime within the last few weeks, we had a Frozen watching party. I know the Frozen obsessed fan club is a bit annoying, but I am captain of Frozen-groupies and I can't even help it. I was recently shown a few articles that showed the underlying meanings in the movie that made it not good for Christians, but I'm a firm believer in "If you look for evil, you will find evil. If you look for God, you will find God." I think there Christian themes sprinkled all over Arendelle. ;) Ps: Just for the record, I listen to Let It Go Pandora station without my kiddo and "Love is an Open Door" is my jam. A close second going to "The Happy Snowman Song" as the kids call it, and THEN "Let it Go". (sorry for the blurry iPhone pic) My girl set up everything for the party. She has the planner/detail brain that I have and I love it.</div>
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Sienna & Titus had their first soccer practices last week! It's not Sienna's first season playing, but it's been awhile so it is all fairly new to her again. Titus however, has never played before. For my hubby, the sentiment behind your son lacing up his cleats and starting their first season ever of a sport you spent your whole life loving and playing is...well, special. (Oh, and Daddy's the coach)</div>
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It was the same type of sentiment I felt when my sweet girl put on her leotard and tights for her first ballet class many moons ago. Tear.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SLRnnq9dpmoI7I_92D-OtuKTrafD1AM9AYOrVVME11QlPDooa7bJh3P3DdEz0CSAvWXnM5yCCAccYWn-6CsZVJjuNhWb4C90YE9UhnS4b3NIsKrXKegbt1pcU-eZAUMwJ7UoAnbt125G/s1600/7317_1155281958037_1657199_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SLRnnq9dpmoI7I_92D-OtuKTrafD1AM9AYOrVVME11QlPDooa7bJh3P3DdEz0CSAvWXnM5yCCAccYWn-6CsZVJjuNhWb4C90YE9UhnS4b3NIsKrXKegbt1pcU-eZAUMwJ7UoAnbt125G/s1600/7317_1155281958037_1657199_n.jpg" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
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As if she wasn't already betraying me enough by growing up too fast after promising to never get old, Sienna went and lost her 5th tooth. This tooth is a turning point though. We officially have a "snuggle tooth" as my dad always called us at this point. It was a top front tooth, and I don't know what it is about those two top teeth, but when they're replaced by a big gap then that baby toothed smile just disappears and they AGE SO MUCH. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijBSGC7Orp3HT5i53ixD84XWZzigqlTyjCUcxGkFA2q3VRN25QcLXefEuNYgBRe_hj5n7JvNlXDkGKMcvzixW_dzorTkogyqZgZhWO7f4Mclmp9W2K4ADibRZbNoWgZcu1s1hPvCH6xe3/s1600/1173698_10201677767601779_1469285076_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijBSGC7Orp3HT5i53ixD84XWZzigqlTyjCUcxGkFA2q3VRN25QcLXefEuNYgBRe_hj5n7JvNlXDkGKMcvzixW_dzorTkogyqZgZhWO7f4Mclmp9W2K4ADibRZbNoWgZcu1s1hPvCH6xe3/s1600/1173698_10201677767601779_1469285076_n.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Well that post was random enough so I'll just leave it at that. I have SO MUCH more to share with you but I'm trying to practice self control so<strike> I can stop typing this and brush my teeth before lunch time </strike>you're not overwhelmed. Love you lots. Have any kiddos start sports this spring? Tell me, how do you do dinner on nights where you are at sports for all the hours of normal cooking/eating/bedtime prep? Give me your wisdom wise mamas. <3 Happy Monday!<br />
<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-48313873915537416332014-03-14T13:50:00.004-07:002014-03-14T14:32:17.527-07:0050 years young<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So when you throw parties for a living, you get crowned the "unofficial event planner" for anything possibly worth celebrating in your family. I don't mind, because I love parties and I love (most) of my family so it's a win-win. Don't worry guys, I was just kidding, sort of... not really. So when it came time for my mother-in-law to turn 50 years young (she's going to kill me for blasting her age on ze blog but I think she's a babe and it wouldn't be the first time I've upset her, so I'm risking it! ha!) I jumped at the chance to put my head together with my SILs to get the birthday planning started. </div>
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My in-laws enjoy eating out at their favorite restaurant <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Armandos-Cucina-Italiana-Pizzeria/268037553234090" target="_blank">Armando's</a> together & my MIL is a classy candle lit dinner type of gal so we opted for intimate and elegant. The anchor to the dinner decor was that table cloth. oooo that table cloth. I'm no photographer AT ALL so ignore the fact that the lights are adjusted differently in every single one of the pictures below. It was night people, and there were candles. Not to mention I'm only an amateur photographer on a good day. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmzMoGHZfus7SjaNrSZ6dKiX7FRfBegnI8A1zsqnafTktvX77mZ_j1tJjdovxRGs-iOwpxKZvRam80dGCBaC7LfCjtboTz44BpXLA9FJgWI9E7OjydMC127UvYZonBZC29APUSFXSBRqRv/s1600/IMG_2663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmzMoGHZfus7SjaNrSZ6dKiX7FRfBegnI8A1zsqnafTktvX77mZ_j1tJjdovxRGs-iOwpxKZvRam80dGCBaC7LfCjtboTz44BpXLA9FJgWI9E7OjydMC127UvYZonBZC29APUSFXSBRqRv/s1600/IMG_2663.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTKQD-x28IXKQM79cQq6rKFAcRXLVS7i7TZybCei2VN0hyL8lxJmmgYdPzVNfm6-J6ywPzJoEfxrdJdOR2PpAd6xjwMbeA4mXn1iF77fCtVSRnEFs0wqI12LY3vQd36xGZZegoQPKQ0TlX/s1600/IMG_2664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTKQD-x28IXKQM79cQq6rKFAcRXLVS7i7TZybCei2VN0hyL8lxJmmgYdPzVNfm6-J6ywPzJoEfxrdJdOR2PpAd6xjwMbeA4mXn1iF77fCtVSRnEFs0wqI12LY3vQd36xGZZegoQPKQ0TlX/s1600/IMG_2664.JPG" height="470" width="640" /></a></div>
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See that adorable picture of her when she was little there. How cute right? We took old pictures and lined the table with them in frames.<br />
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I sent my SIL a picture of my cart full of decorations at hobby lobby and she somehow ordered the perfect matching cake. Isn't it adorable?! It's by <a href="http://www.annettescakes.com/" target="_blank">Annette's Cakes</a> in Orlando and it was the perfect dessert!</div>
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It's placed on a hat box to give it some height and I just love it to pieces. Oh yeah, and it was yummy. </div>
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Candles, candles, candles. You can not go wrong with candles. (just in photographing them... helllllo yellowness)</div>
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Look at my MIL as a baby. Everyone signed the white photo mat as a guest book.</div>
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Peonies. My favorite (since before Pinterest). One of my first jobs was a flower shop. Started my love for events. and flowers. and all things pretty.</div>
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And you can't read the words, because I'm awesome and they're blurry. But I put the words to an Elvis Presley (her favorite) song from the year she was born on there. </div>
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...and this is where she really kills me. This picture below is of my in laws on their honeymoon. Look at how tiny she is! Zoom in, because you're going to want to see her legs. RIDICULOUS!</div>
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This girl couldn't hang. </div>
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And this guy resorted to iPad entertainment.</div>
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This right here was the point of the entire night. Look at her laugh. She deserves it. She has THE best laugh, because if you're really funny- she'll throw a snort in the end. LOL Happy Birthday to my Mother In Law, the woman who raised the best man I know. After being together for 8 years, I know she's a saint for getting him through the first 16 without me. ;) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtze61HGTOrTC6ayUBNewfeOY91QAxo1gOB1dqv13SkxZqY2DhfthWXsA9ec9vjwG06XcZySaSNVlszOz7CUXMZY8t2Xye8OXzvUHlGnsBBgT31lc9lNb2Q3sM2XPQpGna4Rz-j0ZH9SzW/s1600/IMG_2714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtze61HGTOrTC6ayUBNewfeOY91QAxo1gOB1dqv13SkxZqY2DhfthWXsA9ec9vjwG06XcZySaSNVlszOz7CUXMZY8t2Xye8OXzvUHlGnsBBgT31lc9lNb2Q3sM2XPQpGna4Rz-j0ZH9SzW/s1600/IMG_2714.jpg" height="608" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-19633611520426027432014-03-11T19:52:00.003-07:002014-03-11T20:36:43.856-07:00I loved today.<br />
So today stunk. It would give me great satisfaction to list the unnerving amount of ridiculous crud that filled my day. To throw myself a big ole blog pity party complete with cake pops and a side of woes and whining. To list the dreadful from the very second I woke up to the awful at the very last second of bed time. I'd love to explain all about my "bad day" so that you could drown me in empathy and encouragement, "poor you's" and "I'm so sorry's".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5ZgWYumCfIOtgVvL1fQeCssasJDWzQVKo7WE03dyCrMxqs6qhALSB-XPcBT-VJUQGeifQLi_rSbrVJsjHU0Jhe5dZPLpJBl3BTvbMHvcZ62GL1Z3L7JPNq5HaZ0jf3aqUpkxjxfriEW-/s1600/IMG_2816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5ZgWYumCfIOtgVvL1fQeCssasJDWzQVKo7WE03dyCrMxqs6qhALSB-XPcBT-VJUQGeifQLi_rSbrVJsjHU0Jhe5dZPLpJBl3BTvbMHvcZ62GL1Z3L7JPNq5HaZ0jf3aqUpkxjxfriEW-/s1600/IMG_2816.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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No I did not spend the day on the beach, not hardly, but that picture is to remind me of beauty. That is what I want to force myself to post about right now. I had actually already thrown myself in bed on top of the covers, fully clothed, because I couldn't imagine giving today another second of me. That's when I was replaying the events of my day in my head and shaming myself through my unchecked to-do list. An overbearing urge to write a blog post came to me and I thought, I have nothing nice to say (and you know the rest of that saying). Yet God told me, "Be thankful" "See the good". I sit here in front of the screen, rotten and warn down, and bitter. As I type this exact sentence, I'm thinking "God, guide my words because I'm still drawing a blank on where you're going with this post. There's not much to be happy about with the kind of day I had." <br />
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Today was a messy day full of failures, mishaps, sickness, emotions, hurts, and struggles. It wasn't anything catastrophic, just a Tuesday. March 11th 2014 I will never get back and can never do over, so do I mark it down as a "day to forget" or do I force myself to remember the good? I know that life is short enough, & I definitely don't want to lose a Tuesday. So I'm kicking out negative Nancy and I'm going to list the things I loved about today...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAiqDhgtDZXwVjyBoW95XEbVP_dpdTMFbrllko9Ytol-HWLx6Pp3-xtAVwHmSf7R1Gwze55paNNv6r2T0n_vPQHEhLRFPdrxWrM_veUWYAbS9RrD9pC4MLWSKcAU0dpWdV-uxHQZuixUG/s1600/IMG_2801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAiqDhgtDZXwVjyBoW95XEbVP_dpdTMFbrllko9Ytol-HWLx6Pp3-xtAVwHmSf7R1Gwze55paNNv6r2T0n_vPQHEhLRFPdrxWrM_veUWYAbS9RrD9pC4MLWSKcAU0dpWdV-uxHQZuixUG/s1600/IMG_2801.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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I loved my coffee. There wasn't too much creamer or too much sugar & it stayed warm all the way to Sienna's school for drop off.</div>
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I loved putting my daughter's hair up for school. I remember as a little girl dreaming of when I'd have a daughter to give a ponytail and dream come true, I get to do her hair every morning.</div>
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I loved my new printer that I got today. I wasn't expecting to have to buy a new one, but the print job I was needing to get done was so much easier once I got it.</div>
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I loved teaching my daughter a life lesson. Although it wasn't easy to see her cry or get embarrassed, it felt good in my soul to teach her right from wrong.</div>
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I loved my Shakeology shake. It was my first time trying it and I'm not keen on weird meal replacement drinks that taste funny. This, however, was a big nice glass of chocolate goodness.</div>
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I loved having left overs for lunch. Doesn't it just make it so.much.easier when you don't have to "think" to throw lunch together?</div>
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I loved that my son wanted me all day and was clingier than normal. I'm sad that I had to say "hold on" or "mommy's not done working" a few times, but still, I have dreaded him growing up and it's nice to still be babying him when I can.</div>
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I loved the finish product of the invitation set for my bride. It was oddly a super difficult task to get the stationary done for a current wedding because everything seemed to go wrong, but in the end the invitations are absolutely beautiful!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfps8i8-GJE7t93mJID0f-dIjjout0lFc2YGZggqNvACs7mNyNl5sQ9HZo1azzAf2OZJT6f3YxOUjv4bXjWZ6uDUO1mBIPR0omsBg92Zi1BB1ePRhXDx9YoFj7EhjAP4IYeX5s6oI4n8oD/s1600/IMG_2790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfps8i8-GJE7t93mJID0f-dIjjout0lFc2YGZggqNvACs7mNyNl5sQ9HZo1azzAf2OZJT6f3YxOUjv4bXjWZ6uDUO1mBIPR0omsBg92Zi1BB1ePRhXDx9YoFj7EhjAP4IYeX5s6oI4n8oD/s1600/IMG_2790.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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I loved the drive to pick up Sienna at school. I put on toddler music Pandora and we jammed.</div>
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I loved seeing my kiddo walk to me at car line. She was pretending to walk with her eyes closed and thought it was hysterical that I was amazed by her talent.</div>
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I loved how well behaved my kiddos were at the post office as they sat on the floor while I hand stamped 158 stamps and hand cancelled, licked, and stuffed 79 envelopes. </div>
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I loved how my son decided to give me kisses all over my face (while his cute little hands grasped my face) as he sat on the counter at the post office.</div>
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I loved the God given gift of the iPad and movies on the go. (What did we do before them?)</div>
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I loved that I could give them ONE scoop of ice cream as a "good job guys treat" and they were completely satisfied. I selfishly would've been like, "don't be stingy woman". </div>
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I loved sitting on the back porch talking to my husband while the kids played outside.</div>
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I loved that the many(!!!) times my son cried for no reason today, that he came to me with wide open arms.</div>
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I loved that I cheated from my "clean eating" & no sugar/carbs. schedule for dinner and had pasta and breaded chicken because I'm an emotional eater and it made me feel better. (and slightly guilty)</div>
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I loved that my husband read two books to the kids at bed time.</div>
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I loved that I got to begin packing for our fast approaching trip!</div>
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I loved that each kid took turns putting on "a show" for us in Sienna's room before bedtime.</div>
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I loved that my husband held my hand as he fell asleep.</div>
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I loved that my husband went to sleep early because he doesn't feel well at all and it's so hard to get him to take care of himself.</div>
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I loved that God took the VERY last moments of a potentially worthless day that I had almost condemned to be forgotten, and has miraculousy transformed it into something beautiful in my mind. </div>
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I loved today.</div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-16828553309989127422014-03-06T08:15:00.002-08:002014-03-06T08:34:55.275-08:00Necklace Storage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you would've asked me to describe my accessory usage, I would've told you I was a simple girl & have minimal accessories. Well, apparently I'm a closet accessorer (made that word up). Because while on a determined mission to organize every square inch of my house... I came across a ton of booty. Nope, I didn't look in the mirror. I mean treasure! In the form of accessories. I own a lot of necklaces and seriously need to start wearing some of them. (insert Pinterest search: how to accessorize). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GVqrb1BVqHzHMu_vxMjT-f-gDJxwk0Cc5HMt9sIo9JEfRQZgSNi1cLeXD6HqGxU_I5MK71c1T9mLvcRQMauR0HYtm2BvOP1sNzSclV8rKDbFdyTBSxWI1RyV6i-OooFsM_dpbe3VBjvt/s1600/IMG_2612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1GVqrb1BVqHzHMu_vxMjT-f-gDJxwk0Cc5HMt9sIo9JEfRQZgSNi1cLeXD6HqGxU_I5MK71c1T9mLvcRQMauR0HYtm2BvOP1sNzSclV8rKDbFdyTBSxWI1RyV6i-OooFsM_dpbe3VBjvt/s1600/IMG_2612.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
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The problem is, that they were all in a basket tangled together and out of sight, out of mind! Not to mention, it took longer to untangle them than the amount of time I even give myself to get ready so that wasn't working! I needed a way to have them out and ready to remind my self, "Hey bling it up!" </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIpRVhCk1i0iDKKKPP8Z069MdibB_CY8l_zs3kKlUT3s-o0ZroYn3G0vxfIc8XxhkwAP3LfzkgxGo-1bcvn5BosevOPiIB7gf5qS83Gu4Ly5YxRa-3p3CeyiyqMfuwiXnsgpevcaTqd6l/s1600/IMG_2613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIpRVhCk1i0iDKKKPP8Z069MdibB_CY8l_zs3kKlUT3s-o0ZroYn3G0vxfIc8XxhkwAP3LfzkgxGo-1bcvn5BosevOPiIB7gf5qS83Gu4Ly5YxRa-3p3CeyiyqMfuwiXnsgpevcaTqd6l/s1600/IMG_2613.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I came across these little gems in the hook section of Target. They are key holders for an entryway. Also known as, AWESOME necklace holders! I think they were about $5.99 each so for 20 bucks I was super excited to have my own personal jewelry display! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaY9j5lOWMH73q_nDYShW0cg7VRWwkLCjUlQ90ivt1ODHcAkrpJLkTpwEit_k0yyWWB8fXZbuzDr0hcXqvBtRXCokSAjOUiumVericscUfhE6kAt4a_qvLUlg9GlBwqfhtyhfdNj958L0/s1600/IMG_2616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaY9j5lOWMH73q_nDYShW0cg7VRWwkLCjUlQ90ivt1ODHcAkrpJLkTpwEit_k0yyWWB8fXZbuzDr0hcXqvBtRXCokSAjOUiumVericscUfhE6kAt4a_qvLUlg9GlBwqfhtyhfdNj958L0/s1600/IMG_2616.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I tucked it into this little useless piece of wall right next to my closet so that I would see it when I was getting dressed but it was still "hidden" from making the room seem too busy. I'm slowly warming up to "function" in my decor. Because sometimes "too pretty" makes it awfully hard to live in! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga7dW0U6EevgE3uMBar3tTWXgj23cQxfbRp6GTd7qWZnPoioHkktJey9zUAKyPFidBvY_dCvQW_fcPp6-0-_-4XE0lY0azpsYX-S9eeCpI-AVZ0k3u-VtOyeSejKUvwm6JjKn570Tnes6y/s1600/IMG_2617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga7dW0U6EevgE3uMBar3tTWXgj23cQxfbRp6GTd7qWZnPoioHkktJey9zUAKyPFidBvY_dCvQW_fcPp6-0-_-4XE0lY0azpsYX-S9eeCpI-AVZ0k3u-VtOyeSejKUvwm6JjKn570Tnes6y/s1600/IMG_2617.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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So there's a quick fix to your jewelry dilemma if you <strike>have </strike> had one like me!</div>
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My bracelets btw are in a little basket on top of my dresser and for some reason it doesn't bother me not to have them on display to choose from! Once I pick the necklace, it almost always prompts me to go find a cute bracelet to go with it! It's a system that works! Love me some organization. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSeAP9DKRlMZxeGan7z-RgFsT45snA9xg05g4xyoA69Or6wb0udIKZeZApjsemgW2b_bx1c7HoUt7-I-jinUDJ70kgwX8iqaIsbWCwpANaqK1LPZGwHWFUnTW8Q2Ti0HQSWZv-GNTjHOam/s1600/IMG_2618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSeAP9DKRlMZxeGan7z-RgFsT45snA9xg05g4xyoA69Or6wb0udIKZeZApjsemgW2b_bx1c7HoUt7-I-jinUDJ70kgwX8iqaIsbWCwpANaqK1LPZGwHWFUnTW8Q2Ti0HQSWZv-GNTjHOam/s1600/IMG_2618.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-50157114805057927022014-03-03T20:49:00.001-08:002014-03-03T21:18:35.565-08:00I blinked.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I blinked. and Just like that we're here and you're 3 years old. Some people might think, "Get over it. He's turning three, not heading to college." But to this mama, 3 takes you out of babyhood and into big kid zone. You're potty trained. You're growing increasingly independent with each day. You're opinionated... and you're just not a baby anymore. My heart aches as I try to close my eyes and remember the smell of your skin when I nursed you at night, and the sound of your voice as you mispronounced things while learning to talk. I grab your soft hand and think back to when I just wanted you to be able to "walk on your own" so you wouldn't have to pull so heavily on both of my hands as you stumbled. How, silly of this mama to wish those times away. </div>
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Today, three years ago you made your wild entrance in to this world. It seems like just yesterday, and yet a million years ago. I want to relive every moment in my mind today and just ...remember. I get this way with every passing year. When I put that extra candle on the cake, my uterus starts to throb and my hormones start to flair. Ironically this year, as I thought back on where we've been (where I usually like to saturate for at least a day) a funny thing happened. For once I began to look forward. I began to think of not only what has already happened, but what is still to come. Let me tell you, the only thing scarier than a past I can't relive, is a future that I can't control. So, knowing that I can't grasp at the past and I can't control the future, I thought a safe place to be would be in the present and praying for you. I certainly have a God who hears my hearts desires and this my sweet boy is my prayer for you now for what's ahead:</div>
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I pray that your heart is always in the hands of God. </div>
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I pray that you play and laugh and learn everyday.</div>
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I pray that you know the Lord because you want to, not because we made you.</div>
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I pray you can offer us grace as your parents because we aren't perfect.</div>
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I pray that if ever you stray away from what I've taught you, that you answer Jesus' knock to come back in, eventually.</div>
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I pray that you fall down and skin your knee while learning to ride your bike at least once. There is such a life lesson in brushing you off and making you get back on. </div>
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I pray you play in dirt more than on a TV.</div>
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I pray you know how important you are.</div>
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I pray you know God has a purpose for you. </div>
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I pray you find it out sooner than later.</div>
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I pray you make every choice you can to fulfill that purpose and that plan.</div>
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I pray you always hold my hand. </div>
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I pray you learn to protect your sister, even if you're the little brother. </div>
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I pray you don't fight me in learning to cook and clean. You're future wife will thank me.</div>
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I pray that your mind and your heart are always your strongest muscles. </div>
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I pray that you are tall, because with a name like Titus, you have to be. (or hit up the weight room)</div>
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I pray that you are healthy. </div>
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I pray that you feel safe in our family to be who you are.</div>
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I pray that you will be kind and gentle.</div>
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I pray that you treat people the way you want to be treated.</div>
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I pray that you accept people right where they are and love them hard.</div>
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I pray that you will always treat girls as if remembering they are someone's sister or daughter.</div>
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I pray that you build lifelong friendships with good boys that become good men that love Jesus.</div>
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I pray that you pray. </div>
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I pray that you always know I love you, unconditionally. </div>
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I pray that as you get older you know that loving you doesn't always mean tolerating your choices, make wise ones.</div>
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I pray that you will grow into your own man while still following your Daddy's example.</div>
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I pray that you don't just "find a woman" but that you keep your eyes on the Lord and only look down, once you hear him say "that's her".</div>
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I pray that your future wife is gracious, and kind, and bold, and loving, and nurturing, and honest, and God-fearing, and as beautiful inside as she is on the outside. </div>
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I pray she likes me.</div>
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I pray I like her (for her sake).</div>
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I pray your hair never changes and it stays this luscious.</div>
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I pray you learn to express your feelings in a healthy way.</div>
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I pray you are a man that is okay with letting himself cry.</div>
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I pray you are strong in your weakness.</div>
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I pray you follow the Lord where ever he says to go, until he says to stop.</div>
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I pray you have a blast in life.</div>
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I pray that you laugh often, and so hard that your stomach hurts. </div>
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I pray that you learn from the mistakes you make. </div>
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I pray that you learn to share, and do so into adulthood.</div>
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I pray that you are rich, in the things that matter.</div>
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I pray that you lack, in the things that don't.</div>
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I pray that the bible entices you and that you absorb its truth.</div>
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I pray that you see beauty in imperfection.</div>
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I pray that you know how proud we are of you, without you doing a thing.</div>
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I pray that you will help me learn to cling tight when you need it and to let go when you don't. </div>
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I pray your first dates are short and sweet and never involve a kiss.</div>
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I pray you always value your faith, your family, and your education.</div>
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I pray that above all other things, you love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind, all your body, and all your soul. </div>
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AMEN.</div>
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And if you haven't heard enough about my handsome stud enough already, here's way too many pictures of him. They are obviously not in order unless he has some sort of Benjamin Button thing going on. I love you Titus Antonio. Happy 3rd Birthday!</div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-52922407900790590192014-02-12T09:39:00.001-08:002014-02-12T09:39:38.786-08:00Valentine's Decor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
These past two weeks have swallowed me whole. We've had a busy schedule and to add to that enough drama to have a reality show on TLC. I'll spare you the details on all that drab except one little happening... </div>
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RIP HULK <3</div>
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Our sweet little guy passed away last week tragically and our family's hearts are broken. You never imagine a little creature you've only had for 3 months could bring you to such devastation, but I might have cried more than my kiddos. Sad day, but he's in pet heaven as per my faithFULL little girl and that makes us smile. </div>
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On a much happier note, I decorated for Valentine's day! Did you know you had to do that? Yeah, me neither. Pinterest told me. ;) I actually decorated about 6 years ago (not really, I'm an exaggerator) more like 3 weeks ago, but I'm also apparently a slacker. Without further ado, here's my V-day setup. Spread the love folks...</div>
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So there was one rule when decorating for this made up holiday... don't spend any money. As I typed that, I realized I failed. I spent 5 dollars at Wally World for fresh flowers. Dag-nabbit. Well, correction: There was one rule when decorating for this made up holiday... only spend $5 dollars.</div>
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I searched my home for things I could use. I usually just pick a color scheme to make things that you wouldn't necessarily think of using, suddenly "usable". Obviously, we're working with Red and Gold but I threw in some pink and even a splash of silver because I live dangerously. So I grabbed any books with red on it and stacked them for some height. We are not an everyday cloth napkin using family mostly because laundry is my kryptonite, so I took my red napkins (target a few years back) and just folded them to display some more red. I searched my kitchen and found my favorite Lindt Chocolates in the pantry that have red wrappers and tossed them in an old candle holder from bed bath & beyond that I bought at Goodwill awhile ago for 25 cents. </div>
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Those tea light candle holders are from the dollar store and were originally just glass. I spray painted them for my sister-in-laws wedding and added them here to bring in more gold and height. The tops are just plates from a tea cup set we have set on top. I then took those cheap tea lights you get with the silver on the outside and hot glued some pink ribbon around the edges to make it look less cheap and more Valentinesy (made it up, don't care). </div>
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Those gold balls are cut off of a christmas tree decoration filler that I got at Lowes after Christmas for $2. </div>
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These boxes were from jewelry gifts (I always keep those, I don't know why. I have a problem). I used a heart stamp I have and put pink hearts on the top just because details are my jam. Glued that little gem on top and put some gift tags I already had on there with a little romantic wording. Note: Handwriting is not my jam. </div>
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I found this free printable over on <a href="http://decoratemylife.com/valentines-day-printable/">Decorate My Life</a></div>
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And threw it in a frame I already had. This verse is amazing. Even in a made-up, commercialized holiday that tries to exploit our feelings by throwing love into an overpriced heart shaped box of chocolates or a temporary bouquet of roses (do those things not die so quick?), Jesus shows up and says "NAH UH" that's not love. God is love, and you ONLY GET TO LOVE because I LOVED YOU FIRST! That guys awesome. I love him! Back to decor...</div>
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There's my $5 well spent on some pink tulips, and you can see the rest of the set up without a need for explanation.</div>
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I went the easy route on the mantle. Giant dollar store cards we got the kids last year leaned against the wall, check. Left over pleated trim from Titus' first birthday party taped up on the canvas, check. Dollar section (Target I love you!) pails and some painted letters that I've had since Sienna was little...</div>
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Firm believer in "throw a bow on it" ....</div>
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Target paper banner I got 2 years ago after Vday for cheapo.</div>
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Tin from the chocolates my dad got me last year. It makes my heart smile to see it out!</div>
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That's it! Did you decorate your house for Vday? I love holiday decorating and using what I have! Tomorrow I'll be back with what we made for my kids school valentines. =) In the mean time.. ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE<3 </div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-7766064864362033182014-01-23T21:00:00.002-08:002014-01-23T21:01:58.790-08:00A Rockin' 6 Year Old <div style="text-align: center;">
Look at me playing hard to get! ;) I missed you too. God is taking off in so many wonderful aspects of my life at the moment and the ride along is just so much fun! Anywho, since this blog technically started about 5 years ago in my head, we have a ton to catch up on. </div>
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The first snippet I want to toss your way out of my imaginary mind blog is my sweet girls 6th birthday party. (I totally teared up while typing that. My princess is 6! 6 stinkin' years old. Man time flies when you're having fun).</div>
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So I always allow Sienna to pick her birthday party theme (usually with some gentle nudging thrown in) but in general I can see whatever she's going to pick coming from a mile away. This year, not so much. When I asked her what she wanted her birthday party to be this year, she blurted out "I WANT A ROCK STAR PARTY!" Well, I was shocked at first because the girl hasn't heard anything outside of Disney princess music & our local Christian radio station z88.3. I was scared after that because although I did go through a little punk phase in high school (From Autumn to Ashes anyone?) I must say I was clueless on where to start with a "rock star" theme. Don't fret y'all.. it came to me. ;) Take a looksey...</div>
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Well, there's my rockstar girl herself, on the stage. </div>
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Those big beautiful eyes, they slay me. Oh and also, she's into doing her own hair...which also slays me in an entire different way. </div>
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The colors I went with were black white and gold. Searching around for rock star things got real cheesy, real fast so I took the "star" part of that and ran with it. Here are the invites:</div>
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(from pencilandpaperie on Etsy).</div>
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Now for the table setting. I did one long table for all the kiddos to sit at. Paper Plates can look snazzy y'all. Presentation. Presentation. Presentation. </div>
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My amazing hubs aka Mr. Hot Stuff (yes, let's refer to him as that because it will embarrass him and well, it's pretty accurate) made that stage and it rained RIGHT after we set it up. God bless him, that man has a special place in Heaven for enduring my crazy visions. </div>
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Mr. Hot Stuff also got a little creative while pressure washing the day before. Our other trees say (as in like still-to-this-day makes me cringe) "rock & roll". We'll just call it his decorating "stamp" on our home. ;D Gosh, he's sexy (it helps ease my decorating pain. ha!) </div>
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Sienna was very specific when requesting "guitars and microphones for all her friends"...</div>
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Now we can move into the porch & on to the food! </div>
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(cookies ordered from Cookie Cousins)</div>
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The Menu was a "Rock yo' Taco" bar. Super easy and a little went a long way! I always say, the best way to go is spanish ;D (even though I'm a little bias due to Señor Hot Stuff). </div>
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and now the cake! </div>
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Little man celebrating sissy too! (with a shiner from the bounce house and some good moves on the stage)</div>
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There were tons of bouncing, and dancing and stage-performing mixed in too. I have the cutest pictures of little girls twirling and singing-about together and little boys using inflatable guitars as swords, but I just can't put the other little party guests up here on the good ole' blog. Apparently people are little funny about you putting their kid on the internet without them knowing. Weird. But I will say there was also Sienna's specific request of "gold pixie dust" for her and all her friends to throw around on each other and use to get "dancing powers". Let me just tell you where she got this lovely idea.. I'll give you one hint, I can't wait to be an aunt. Payback is sweet. ;D The parents thanked me for their extra party favors of glitter covered cars and they were on their way.</div>
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(most pictures taken by Jenna Dail)</div>
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Well, that was Sienna's rock star party. Let's play our favorite part.. mine? The sweet 6 year old! What was yours? </div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-56526343083614876142014-01-16T18:25:00.001-08:002014-01-16T18:28:04.799-08:00Throwback Thursday: Home Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Get it? Kinda like Extreme Makeover Home Edition? Yeah, I know… whitty titles are only good if you don't have to explain them. Soooo I thought it would be fun to do a little Throwback Thursday House Edition. These are horrible blurry iPhone pics that I took 5 years ago the first time we walked through our home while house hunting. The moral of the story is… ALWAYS SEE THE POTENTIAL. Now enjoy the pictures of my homes "before" as I cringe. Kind of like when your friend posts a picture of you from 10 years ago and tags you in it. =)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaM4a4wfbhfOcOeoX1HhbUfPngyGjMKpkDL5wBpNTAR7MZPoek5CThc0yAdcPaJaYRNmI2dGLvT_BMiKMPhiQ1Ug_ysWpM9ua5SEDvQ5VpAyv9n1l3lSg1jePoXXa08ngmHf5cA8ku_yQW/s1600/IMG_0750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaM4a4wfbhfOcOeoX1HhbUfPngyGjMKpkDL5wBpNTAR7MZPoek5CThc0yAdcPaJaYRNmI2dGLvT_BMiKMPhiQ1Ug_ysWpM9ua5SEDvQ5VpAyv9n1l3lSg1jePoXXa08ngmHf5cA8ku_yQW/s1600/IMG_0750.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ugh, that was painful! Let's play what do you hate the most? For me? It's a tie between the blue countertops in the master bath or that white tile. How about you?<br />
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-77647987578389863992014-01-15T16:41:00.000-08:002014-01-15T17:06:40.716-08:00A deep division<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> First of all, thank you all who showed me love in the comments or on Facebook about my home tour. Let me tell you, it's not easy inviting anyone who can click on your blog into your home along with any judgement or critics. Let me also clarify I shared my home to inspire those around me to the possibility of creating beautiful spaces that fit your family/needs on a budget. NOT to show off or make anyone unhappy with their current spaces. I am just so grateful for the sweet words of encouragement on something I've worked so hard on over a long period of time. Thanks guys.. virtual hug.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> While I love beautiful things on the outside, the beauty on the inside of us is my TRUE PASSION. While digging around for some truth for my soul, because my motto for this year is THRIVING IN TRUTH... I came across this scripture:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #001320;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">2 Timothy 2:25 "</span></span></span><span style="color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #fdfeff;">The Lord's bond-servant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, able to teach, </span><b style="background-color: #fdfeff;">patient when wronged</b><span style="background-color: white;">, </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="highl" style="color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth</span></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> What stuck out to me was, "patient when wronged". What a truth. God wants me..you..us to be patient, kind, not quarrelsome, and gentle... even when wronged. To me that is the hardest part of being a follower of Christ. When the rest of the world would (and sometimes does) rally behind us to retaliate for the victim or justify the wrong or make the underdog the victor... Christ tells us no. Christ tells us His way is better. His way doesn't always seem fair. It doesn't always make us "feel better" and it sometimes quite honestly leaves us looking "stupid". When I am wronged and I do "nothing about it" my flesh tells me "You look weak. You look timid. Stand up for yourself! You know what is right and just! You are not afraid! Put them in their place and rectify this situation for yourself!" Let me tell you how well that's worked out for me. Never does good come from it. A sweet friend reminded me of the lyrics,<i> </i><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333;"><i style="line-height: 17px;">You make all things work together for my good. </i><span style="line-height: 17px;">How true. Even though initially being patient when wronged seems like "we've lost" God will make it good for you. More of that song says: </span></span></span></span><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">The wind is strong and the waters, deep, but</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">I'm not alone here in these open seas.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">'Cause Your love never fails.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">The chasm is far too wide</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">I never thought I'd reach the other side.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">But Your love never fails.</span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 17px;"><i> </i>How amazing. Our whole relationship with Christ is based on a "chasm". Webster defines chasm as <b>"a</b></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><b style="line-height: 20px;"> marked division, separation, or difference" </b><span style="line-height: 20px;">or </span><b style="line-height: 20px;">" a deep division"</b><span style="line-height: 20px;">. That is exactly what our relationship was with God after He was wronged and sin fell upon us. And just as the song says, that division between us felt "far too wide" without hope of every reaching the other side. That is until Jesus closed that gap. How true in even our relationships where we feel "wronged". His word, His presence, His love can repair the distance. God himself will show up when you are patient. Sometimes, truthfully the gap he repairs isn't even between the people at odds but between you and him. What do you do as you remain patient for God to reveal the knowledge of truth? Well James 1:19 says...</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. (NLT) ( James 1:19 ) </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;"> Easier said than done, huh? Yeah, I know I'm preaching to the choir here. But let me give you hope. Let me give you Truth. Of all that I have endured while following Christ, I know one thing for absolute sure... God restores. Just be patient. </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-49970084614261666362014-01-13T10:29:00.001-08:002014-01-13T10:33:41.552-08:00Home Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Welcome to my humble abode! I'm dying to share my home with you! I've put my heart into making our home a place to love in, live, in, and host in. Keep in mind a room is never done and I have a billion more ideas in my head still. Also, I'm totally an amateur with my camera. I know you'd rather less words and more pictures so here we go for the tour...</div>
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Entry way</div>
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First door on the right: Laundry Room</div>
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Second door on the right: Half Bath</div>
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It's not very easy to photograph this bathroom. I promise there's a toilet in there ;)</div>
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On the other side of the entry way just past the stairs: The Family Room</div>
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Dining Room:</div>
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And just to keep it real around here... this was happening in the above picture about 6 inches away =)</div>
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The Kitchen:</div>
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The Fireplace Room</div>
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Upstairs:</div>
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Playroom</div>
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Titus' Room</div>
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Kids Bath</div>
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Still tons of work to be done in this room.</div>
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Also, there's no natural light in here. Pictures are tough.</div>
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Master Bedroom</div>
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Master Bathroom</div>
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There it is! Our family's digs. A ton (most) of our things are DIY and super affordable. I'm a firm believer in splurging on a few things and creating the rest! If you have any questions on where, how, or what is pictured ask away in the comments! I'll do an outside tour along with our porch and a fun DIY project were doing outside sometime soon! And just to remind you not to compare your behind the scenes to someones highlight reel...</div>
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The Office</div>
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That I didn't have time or energy to clean/organize in time for a picture.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYz_thLBe_70LHIt6kc64uYz-e6Tl5kF1vg6zd_rwAla7wH-yRZeTlGORf8KshipaPUFOC9xN8pBwhDeMD8tuybdqkGhcBszp2kg1gRammVxxoqCjLLPev83w6g4KIXBAH8V1Qby61LWkp/s1600/IMG_2579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYz_thLBe_70LHIt6kc64uYz-e6Tl5kF1vg6zd_rwAla7wH-yRZeTlGORf8KshipaPUFOC9xN8pBwhDeMD8tuybdqkGhcBszp2kg1gRammVxxoqCjLLPev83w6g4KIXBAH8V1Qby61LWkp/s1600/IMG_2579.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Hope you enjoyed the tour! </div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-7984992117935076752014-01-09T21:09:00.002-08:002014-01-09T21:41:03.269-08:00Nice to meet ya!Remember back in school growing up how the first couple days of school were "intro days". Those were the best days ever. Besides the no homework perk, I loved getting to tell everyone all about me and what I loved! Until of course college came along and on the first day, they were all "Here's homework, a test, and a paper due tomorrow." What the what?! So in honor of my getting old and because I get to make the rules, I'm bringing back intro day!<br />
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So let's imagine that I invite you over for coffee (it's always time for coffee) and to chat. You'd sit at my dining room table on an upholstered Ikea chair with a red marker stain on the seat that I can't get out (okay I lied, I haven't even tried), and you'd watch me put an unGodly amount of creamer and sugar in my coffee. I'd have way too many sweet snacks on a tray that makes you think "Wait? Are more people coming?" and we'd get to know each other...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4jngEsLiTkvse46JCZ5Ghs6rQyYLLbiq9DwTyOCad9HER8pXkCQKHRgLNWcQY2S18JKUvroUUKnVr5MCu9BdvdgFIvMY9mku8kN4TqJ7_OpRvCF4hpaxCQpREAErk9Z1xpu9yqZOhVyj/s1600/IMG_2359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4jngEsLiTkvse46JCZ5Ghs6rQyYLLbiq9DwTyOCad9HER8pXkCQKHRgLNWcQY2S18JKUvroUUKnVr5MCu9BdvdgFIvMY9mku8kN4TqJ7_OpRvCF4hpaxCQpREAErk9Z1xpu9yqZOhVyj/s1600/IMG_2359.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm Candace. I'm a lover of Christ, I'm a wife to Nicholas, and I'm a mommy to Sienna & Titus (in that order). I'm blunt and extremely transparent. I'm compassionate and empathetic. Which kinda stinks because I'm also a dweller. I can get super sad and upset over someone else's problem for-like-ever. I'm quick to forgive. I will call you out. I'm the friend that tells you what you don't want to hear but need to hear. I can be overly sensitive, and yes I will read into the "tone" of your text and be offended by your attitude of which I read your text in. Contrarily, my theme for this year is "Thrive in Truth" and my daily goal is to have intentional joy and find beauty in the mundane. Also, I stink at laundry. Stains are my kryptonite.<br />
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I've started this blog for me. As a place to relinquish my words and to store my thoughts. A collective home for all my crafts, and home projects, and business adventures. I also started it to give everyone's Facebook newsfeed relief because #ikindalikehashtags and #Imalsolongwinded.<br />
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My passions include sharing my walk with Christ, helping others, making all things pretty & festive, and parenting. I hope here I can give you a place of hope. A place where a "bible thumper" seems so tangible and real and flawed. I pray that I can close the gap between the "normal" and the "believers" of thou Christ Child our Sacred Son of the Lamb Hath be Holy Redeemer. (God totally knows my intention with that so no worries, I'm not up in flames). My heart lies with those JUST outside of the gates of Hell. I want to use my words, my experiences, my hurts, and my struggles to lift people out of brokenness by revealing I'm deep down in there with them. My hope is that God's word can seem a bit less of a foreign language and a lot more like a love poem through my testimony here.<br />
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Having Selah Joy Company is a result of a deep rooted desire from Christ to be the hostess with the mostess. I have always relished in hosting a celebration, a dinner, a gathering, and filling a space with joy. I have delighted in preparing an event and watching a wedding unfold. I'll explain more about my business in another post (dun dun dun.. cliff hanger!) Anywho, God wants me to have a space of joy and growth and peace and kindness (even if on the internet) to bring people together and love their faces off!! So, that's what this is! I couldn't be more excited, nervous, willing, and lead to be sharing all I come across right here with you all. </div>
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By now if we were really sitting at my house sipping coffee, I would have reheated it a hand full of times, we would've switched to more comfy seating because I have a boney butt, my children would be begging for "bunny time", you'd probably be covered in white dog hair, and we would've already been interrupted more times than we can count. Oh the blessing of this blog, we were just pretending & we got to finish a conversation! Now tell me about yourself because somebunny wants to hear all about you. Oh and also....Im cheesy. =)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnouj5cIkkXzRy8td2SUNWnnvjqqUPeQ-SeqtSDXXSC_7nK3W9SzKxojelM54zyLLmtcjPjt_SJ-yCepYIpXqyIMQghsW-AHJLp_IvVOwKDt0S9WLhe70DwxgepSJwdnMgBup5UW0KSXSz/s1600/1557490_10201202451959185_2101085923_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnouj5cIkkXzRy8td2SUNWnnvjqqUPeQ-SeqtSDXXSC_7nK3W9SzKxojelM54zyLLmtcjPjt_SJ-yCepYIpXqyIMQghsW-AHJLp_IvVOwKDt0S9WLhe70DwxgepSJwdnMgBup5UW0KSXSz/s1600/1557490_10201202451959185_2101085923_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://s1018.photobucket.com/user/candacejoygutierrez/media/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1018.photobucket.com/albums/af302/candacejoygutierrez/blogsignature_zpse04c8169.jpg" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10762725595929564055noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8520314344656670279.post-60702689683821216392014-01-07T21:57:00.000-08:002014-01-07T22:06:28.473-08:00I think I'm going to pee myself...I bet when I look back at my first blog post ever I'm going to regret making that the title. But hey, it sounds witty and clever right now and I'm not much of a regretter… SO I'll risk it. Back to bodily functions… I'm so stinking excited right now I could pee my pants! I have been reading blogs since before they were "cool". (and if you're not a SAHM you might not even be aware that they are cool, but they are the cats meow). My wonderful hubs has been nudging me forever to just do the dang thing but I've got some insecurities y'all. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelyGhaNVQ_mgHQ0Y0TwW6ds3WIiGkA3CVVghjtI7avjbxw3x5pAYKRGKq7RKlroJYVWq4uIRscdQv_2tUdd05lHgqBJ0OAkac8L3kGD5YN-MmSV8_zOBKoqgjixDo_loilFi77zJwqabx/s1600/1506075_10201191086315051_1159575626_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelyGhaNVQ_mgHQ0Y0TwW6ds3WIiGkA3CVVghjtI7avjbxw3x5pAYKRGKq7RKlroJYVWq4uIRscdQv_2tUdd05lHgqBJ0OAkac8L3kGD5YN-MmSV8_zOBKoqgjixDo_loilFi77zJwqabx/s1600/1506075_10201191086315051_1159575626_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
Even though countless people for YEARS (even an alarm saleswoman) have stepped into my home or read my Facebook statuses and responded, "you should have a blog, I'd read it" I have had this ugly little fear that mine would suck. I've been waiting for the perfect layout, or logo, or pictures, or topic, or renovation, or craft, or anything to make my blog perfect(!!) to come along and make me worthy enough to be a blogger.<br />
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I've had dreams of my first post and how flawless it would be. I'd "launch" my new blog with perfectly edited pictures, and a sidebar that made you drool, flawless tabs, and subtle ads that didn't scream desperate but were right on with my readers. I'd hit submit and whadda' know? "7,000 followers? Why sure YoungHouseLove you can guest post… get in line." ;) Yup, that's how it went in my head, and until I could guarantee that, I was frozen in fear. Then, 5 years passed and many opportunities to start sharing my adventures passed me by and I am sick of waiting for perfection. So yay for you! I just jumped in unprepared, with no intro, and nothing particularly exciting to talk about. We can only go up from here folks! ;)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSovjvxnbqFnaCyetIeKCEP-2noRG4trAUispU7Umln4hp0wW_yBtPjyY2XlA1mQ-1SSfSF4aTBv9WGJiw-LMtSjHEXI0kMlpUjrDsdPFzVAS8i-mSzxeoDHCJdNnH1raDB_AsVXwJcwP/s1600/1476203_10200940188882772_124993228_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSovjvxnbqFnaCyetIeKCEP-2noRG4trAUispU7Umln4hp0wW_yBtPjyY2XlA1mQ-1SSfSF4aTBv9WGJiw-LMtSjHEXI0kMlpUjrDsdPFzVAS8i-mSzxeoDHCJdNnH1raDB_AsVXwJcwP/s1600/1476203_10200940188882772_124993228_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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… and just incase the promise of nothing wasn't exciting enough for you. Here's pictures of the cutest kids in the world to guarantee you'll keep coming back for more.</div>
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and last but not least (by any means) Let's do this...</div>
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