<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830</id><updated>2012-01-24T11:21:23.920-08:00</updated><category term='kenters'/><category term='boys'/><category term='crew'/><category term='guns'/><title type='text'>Three Men and a Lady</title><subtitle type='html'>The journal of a lady in love with 3 blue eyed men.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1094</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-559640657534621223</id><published>2012-01-22T18:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T18:11:57.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Something short and simple. Parker you asked to go get a drink during evening service, and I obliged. On your way back in to the sanctuary I looked to see you stop just before re-entering...to hold the door for a grown lady to walk through first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My insides were about to burst. That single act of gentleman like courtesy makes me want to cheer with pride more than when you scored 4 goals last Monday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I constantly remind you and Kent to hold doors for ladies...I think you've caught on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-559640657534621223?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/559640657534621223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=559640657534621223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/559640657534621223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/559640657534621223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/something-short-and-simple.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5964653211538118919</id><published>2012-01-19T15:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T07:25:44.732-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This Wednesday in C/C we talked about the role of an intercessor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shared briefly about how my life was blessed because my mom had interceded for me at a time when I was living in rebellion. The spiritual warfare that she waged on my behalf, softened my heart, and I eventually surrendered my life to Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We likened intercession to taking up the sword that others have put down, or aren't strong enough to wield, and we fight for them. Jesus, was the ultimate intercessor. He went to God on my behalf and He fought the enemy on my behalf. I want to do for others, what Jesus has done for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were all challenged to set aside what interests us, and shift our attention to the needs of others. My life was changed because of an intercessor, and we can play that same crucial role in the life of someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick up a sword, and fight in prayer for those God lays on your heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5964653211538118919?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5964653211538118919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5964653211538118919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5964653211538118919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5964653211538118919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/this-wednesday-in-cc-we-talked-briefly.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5300745230324056899</id><published>2012-01-18T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T07:34:14.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are such a caring soul. You are always looking for ways to make those you love, smile. You are constantly giving us unsolicited hugs and kisses. You bring me things with out asking, "Here's your water Mommy". You are very good at verbalizing how you feel; "I love you" flows freely from your cute little mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of your sensitive nature, and I pray that God gives me wisdom on how to nurture that. When you love someone, you LOVE them. You adore them. You are passionate about being with them. And I love that about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You knew that PARKER DAY was coming up, and so you spent about 2 hours decorating for your brother's special day. You are kind, compassionate, and thoughtful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that God matures these qualities in you, and that you use them to advance HIS kingdom, and to be the hands of Jesus extended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5300745230324056899?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5300745230324056899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5300745230324056899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5300745230324056899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5300745230324056899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/kenters-you-are-such-caring-soul.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5234369274839744893</id><published>2012-01-17T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T08:47:49.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Earlier in the week Kent, you expressed how frustrated you were that I got to decide what you eat for dinner each night. You said, "If I were the boss, I would eat corn dogs." It started me thinking about how truly, as a child, you do not get to have a lot of control over you life. I tell you when to get up, when to go to bed, what to wear, where you are going, etc, etc. I can tell that you want to be able to make some choices on your own. So, we instituted KENT DAY. You were given the freedom to chose what we ate, and what activities we did on Saturday afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were so excited in the days leading up to KENT DAY that you decorated the kitchen table with streamers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the day arrived. You, of course, chose corn dogs for dinner, and here is a photo journey indicating what activities you chose for our family to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0YD3lFegBlo/TxWSjLOXRkI/AAAAAAAAB9g/hZf38SxNK8o/s1600/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0YD3lFegBlo/TxWSjLOXRkI/AAAAAAAAB9g/hZf38SxNK8o/s320/016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698622036513343042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Club Penguin Wii: This is your favorite Wii game, and you were delighted to share you favorite game with your favorite people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rQhHqEB8H48/TxWSig-FJyI/AAAAAAAAB9U/FnNbrPy-e8w/s1600/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rQhHqEB8H48/TxWSig-FJyI/AAAAAAAAB9U/FnNbrPy-e8w/s320/014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698622025170757410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guns: We played guns. Well, you and Parker and Daddy played "guns", and since I don't really know how to do that, I just cheered you on as you preformed all kinds of shooting stunts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DGQunWo62NA/TxWSiaFQz4I/AAAAAAAAB9I/UYwL8cdpEOM/s1600/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DGQunWo62NA/TxWSiaFQz4I/AAAAAAAAB9I/UYwL8cdpEOM/s320/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698622023321833346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mario Memory: This game was intense..that's what happens when you have 4 very competitive people :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rua3CWwyD84/TxWShjRwUEI/AAAAAAAAB88/Y2axcca3Ods/s1600/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rua3CWwyD84/TxWShjRwUEI/AAAAAAAAB88/Y2axcca3Ods/s320/011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698622008610279490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art Projects: We made a Sponge Bob key chain that was part of a kit. We each created one strand. I used up all the pink and purple beads on my strand, so you wouldn't have to. Then, you boys used all the big pieces, and left the small ones for Daddy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MZ8MNF11v_Y/TxWShUpIXHI/AAAAAAAAB8w/4sbLunrDVT8/s1600/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MZ8MNF11v_Y/TxWShUpIXHI/AAAAAAAAB8w/4sbLunrDVT8/s320/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698622004681792626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bouncy Balls: We made these balls from a kit that Santa brought you. You LOVED these, and continually bounced them off the walls downstairs...which chipped paint off the walls...which resulted in a reprimand..but, hey, let's focus on positives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had such a fabulous time at KENT DAY, and PARKER DAY is soon to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Kenters, and when you were given the freedom to make some choices, you did a fantastic job!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5234369274839744893?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5234369274839744893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5234369274839744893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5234369274839744893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5234369274839744893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/earlier-in-week-kent-you-expressed-how.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0YD3lFegBlo/TxWSjLOXRkI/AAAAAAAAB9g/hZf38SxNK8o/s72-c/016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7279930152677229924</id><published>2012-01-16T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T18:16:04.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had one of the best soccer games of your life. Your team lost, but hey, you guys have yet to win a game, so we've learned to focus on the positives. You scored 4 goals, and believe it or not, your record is 6 goals in a game, but today was special because of HOW you played. You were so aggressive, proactive, and INTENSE. Your footwork was unbelievable, and I literally sat there in complete awe of some of the stunts you were pulling on the field. You passed perfectly a few times, you stole the ball from the other team on several occassions, and you used both your left foot and right foot to score the goals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard your coach on the sidelines during a huddle after the 1st quarter, "Guys, look at how Parker is playing, and play like that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then during half-time, I heard him say, "Parker, do you have an "S" under that shirt, because you are playing like Superman!" And boy, oh boy, did you eat that up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after the game, we were bombarded by parents wanting to congratulate you for your efforts. Your coach said, "Parker was phenominal...playing both sides of field, passing, crossing over..." and he went on and on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish wish wish wish wish that Grandpa Gaspare was alive to see the intensity and passion in which you play. The best part of watching you, is the smile that lights up your face after you score. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what your future holds, or if you will continue to love to play this game, but for now, you are enjoying your time in soccer, and I LOVE watching you play your best each and every game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go #11!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7279930152677229924?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7279930152677229924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7279930152677229924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7279930152677229924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7279930152677229924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/parker-you-had-one-of-best-soccer-games.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5709646232804459295</id><published>2012-01-13T17:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T18:45:45.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>AHHH.. Kenters, last week I asked if you were ready for a hair cut, and you immediately declared, "No way!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, yesterday out of the blue, you said, "Mom, I want to cut my hair now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked what you were thinking of doing, hypothesizing that you just wanted to trim your bangs, but you surprised me and said, "I want a mohawk".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that is just not gonna happen, but I don't want to squash your creativity and individuality, so we compromised on a faux-hawk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before:&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAg_5tTZU74/TxDikLcVD1I/AAAAAAAAB8U/qD43jp3iCcI/s1600/kentbefore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAg_5tTZU74/TxDikLcVD1I/AAAAAAAAB8U/qD43jp3iCcI/s320/kentbefore.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697302639798456146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nGeGjv_tzdU/TxDi8ZS0j2I/AAAAAAAAB8g/hMY6I59xUI8/s1600/kentershaircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nGeGjv_tzdU/TxDi8ZS0j2I/AAAAAAAAB8g/hMY6I59xUI8/s320/kentershaircut.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697303055833534306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first words out of your mouth were, "Good! Now people will stop calling me Justin Beaver (Bieber)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it makes you look younger, and I also think it shows how strong the resemblance is between you and your older brother. Not gonna lie...I got a little choked up. I love your hair long, and I'm sad to see it go. But, I do want you to be able to have some input in to how your express and present yourself. And let's just be honest....your face is absolutely adorable, so you could pull off any hair style....in my unbiased opinion as your mother. :) haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5709646232804459295?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5709646232804459295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5709646232804459295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5709646232804459295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5709646232804459295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/ahhh.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAg_5tTZU74/TxDikLcVD1I/AAAAAAAAB8U/qD43jp3iCcI/s72-c/kentbefore.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6895273925983718817</id><published>2012-01-09T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T14:09:13.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are going to re-think and re-design our trips home. We are one family unit trying to squeeze in too many visits with too many people...and no one is satisfied. We will see everyone once, and if that isn't enough for them, they are more than welcome to come and visit us down here. Done and Done. I have to protect our sanity, and stamina, and we all ended our 10 day tour way too run down. We started 2nd semester exhausted....and that's no way to begin a new school term, let alone a new year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess like all things in life, you learn as you do. Now we've spent two holidays as "out of town guests" in Chicago, and come Christmas 2012, I expect a happy, healthy, balanced trip. The third time is the charm!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6895273925983718817?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6895273925983718817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6895273925983718817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6895273925983718817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6895273925983718817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/boys-we-are-going-to-re-think-and-re.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1619763243549310414</id><published>2012-01-09T07:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T07:47:44.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Kent, I said no more books. Put your head on that pillow and go to sleep right now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But this isn't a book! It's the Bible and I want to learn more about God!!!!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice try. I almost let you stay awake longer. ALMOST!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1619763243549310414?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1619763243549310414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1619763243549310414' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1619763243549310414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1619763243549310414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/kent-i-said-no-more-books.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-4007065780515766908</id><published>2012-01-05T13:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T13:12:55.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus&lt;br /&gt;Just to take him at his word&lt;br /&gt;Just to rest upon his promise&lt;br /&gt;Just to know , "Thus said the Lord".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him&lt;br /&gt;How I proved him o'er and o'er&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus&lt;br /&gt;O for grace to trust him more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O how sweet to trust in Jesus,&lt;br /&gt;Just to trust His cleansing blood;&lt;br /&gt;And in simple faith to plunge me&lt;br /&gt;’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,&lt;br /&gt;Just from sin and self to cease;&lt;br /&gt;Just from Jesus simply taking&lt;br /&gt;Life and rest, and joy and peace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,&lt;br /&gt;Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;&lt;br /&gt;And I know that Thou art with me,&lt;br /&gt;Wilt be with me to the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-4007065780515766908?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/4007065780515766908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=4007065780515766908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4007065780515766908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4007065780515766908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/tis-so-sweet-to-trust-in-jesus-just-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6678160750407088873</id><published>2012-01-04T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T13:04:43.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thursday the 22nd: We woke up, you boys gave us and each other your presents, we opened up Grandpa Paul's gifts, and we left for Chicago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday the 23rd: Daddy had to go shopping for some last minute gifts for me, and then we all went to Auntie Denise's house where we celebrated the Mangialardi Christmas with 32 others (and that's not even all of us-we were missing Cousin Josh and his family in Ohio.) We also continued the Elton tradition of sleeping under the Christmas Tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday the 24th: We had a nice lazy morning around the house after Mimi cooked an outstanding breakfast, and then we were off to Shar Shar's for the Elton Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday the 25th: We opened up gifts downstairs in Auntie J and Uncle J's apartment (they flew out that morning for vacay), and then we went to Grandma Joan's to celebrate with the Scottberg crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday the 26th: We went to Bounce Town in Oswego with the Scottbergs, and that night our friends Aldo and the Schultz family came over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday the 27th: I helped Mimi organize her kitchen, and you boys and Daddy played HOURS of video games. That afternoon, Kent developed a fever, and after taking him to immediate care, we discovered he had strep throat. Daddy and Parker went to the Hong's house for our annual gathering with the Hongs/Harris/Konrath families in Tinley Park...they are all great family friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday the 28th: I drove Daddy to the train station in Joliet so he could come back home to work, and then I took you to lunch with Papa and Pop Pop. We all stopped at Play it Again Sports, and then we hung out at Papa's house in Villa Park for a bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday the 29th: You boys spent the day with Grandma Joan, and apparently you were little stinkers. I think you had a case of "strep combined with too much traveling". I, on the other hand, had a fabulous afternoon with Pop Pop's two sisters, Auntie Re and Auntie Pam, and I enjoyed a nice evening out with the Mangialardi women at Drury Lane in Oak Brook, seeing "The Sound of Music". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday the 30th: We hung around the house, and then we took Blake to Auntie Denise's house in Elk Grove, and had a sleepover with Gigi and Nico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday the 31st: We went Laser Tagging with Auntie Shar Shar, and then we went back to the Sidell house in Napervile/Aurora to celebrate New Year's Eve. Auntie Shar Shar rigged a balloon drop, and she had so many goodies, you would think her name was Willy Wonka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday the 1st: We woke up to Dunkin' Donuts, and then we left to come back here to Bethalto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Whirlwind of 10 days...our Christmas Tour 2011 has come to a close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6678160750407088873?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6678160750407088873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6678160750407088873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6678160750407088873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6678160750407088873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/thursday-22nd-we-woke-up-you-boys-gave.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6060650061251078972</id><published>2012-01-03T10:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T10:54:30.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Again, I promise I'll go back and rehash Christmas, but I wanted to jot down about one of the gifts that you were thrilled to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jf0wupsmo0w/TwNLsyNxnhI/AAAAAAAAB78/TKWV_UIlTh0/s1600/IMG_2699.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jf0wupsmo0w/TwNLsyNxnhI/AAAAAAAAB78/TKWV_UIlTh0/s320/IMG_2699.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693477586692316690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You each got Bibles on Christmas morning. And you have been diligent in reading them each night. Kent, you love to flip through the Bible, page by page, as if you are reading the content. You pause extra long on the pictures, and try to figure out what story they are depicting. Parker, you are on Genesis 18, and are enjoying reading at night before you go to sleep. You clip on your new book light you got in your stocking, and you read away. When you told me you were on Genesis 18, I wanted to be sure you were comprehending the material and not just deciphering words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who are you reading about?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abraham".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What was his name before God changed it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abram"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's happening now in the story?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Abraham is having to go against 4 kings. But I don't know their names, because they are annoying and so I skip over them." (haha...wait til you get to the genealogies and can't pronounce any of them!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you learning about God by reading about Abraham's life?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God helped Abraham be brave and strong."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you learning about God through Abraham's life, that can help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God will never leave me. He will always be with me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only been working with C/C students for 1.5 years, but 10 years of youth ministry taught me that children who are raised in the church may know the facts of the Bible, but there seems to be a disconnect when it comes to applying the Truth of the Bible to their everyday lives. They may know that David killed Goliath, but they may not know what that story reveals about God, or what that story has to do with their life and circumstances &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;today.&lt;/span&gt; I wholeheartedly want you to read Scripture, and apply it to your life. 1 Timothy says that ALL Scripture is God-breathed, and is useful for teaching and instructing. All Scripture can help us to know God while, at the same time, give us wisdom on how to make Him known among our generation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that you both are reading the Word. I pray that you see how relevant, true, applicable, timeless, and powerful this great book is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6060650061251078972?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6060650061251078972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6060650061251078972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6060650061251078972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6060650061251078972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/again-i-promise-ill-got-back-and-rehash.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jf0wupsmo0w/TwNLsyNxnhI/AAAAAAAAB78/TKWV_UIlTh0/s72-c/IMG_2699.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1228551890621813685</id><published>2012-01-01T19:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T19:33:13.150-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is so much to write about, but I need more time to process our 10 day Christmas tour. Here is a quick post about our last day or two... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year on New Year's I sat with the two of you and reviewed the past 12 months. I did the same again this year, and here are your answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What was your favorite thing about 2011?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Parker&lt;/span&gt;: Winning 1st place in our division and in the tournament for Bethalto Soccer, and all the time I spent with my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kent:&lt;/span&gt; Sleeping over at my best friend Trenton's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What was something sad that happened in 2011?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Parker:&lt;/span&gt; When I lost George for a long time in Peyton's bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kent:&lt;/span&gt; All the times my mom and dad had to give me grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is something you want to thank God for in 2011?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Parker: &lt;/span&gt;That He helped me play my best in soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kent: &lt;/span&gt;That my mom and dad give me grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What is something you want to ask God to do in 2012?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Parker:&lt;/span&gt; Help me get a lot of soccer trophies, and help me not be mean to Kent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kent: &lt;/span&gt;To help me play basketball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;What is a goal you want to accomplish in 2012?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Parker:&lt;/span&gt; I want to play harder and harder soccer teams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Kent:&lt;/span&gt; I want to earn a basketball trophy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****I can't believe that going to Disney World didn't make it for "best memory" of the year. Oh well, it made my list! Parker, it is obvious how much you enjoy soccer, considering almost every answer was related to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters, you and I had a long talk about grace a few hours before our "year in review" conversation, and judging by your answers, your mind was still processing our chat. You had behaved in a way which resulted in being grounded from going to play laser tag. I decided to lift the restriction, but before I did, I explained to you what grace meant. We talked about how God showed us grace by sending Jesus to die on the cross for us, and giving us eternal life when we don't deserve it. I told you about how God showed me grace even though I make mistakes all the time. You were able to play laser tag even though you didn't deserve it, because I showed you grace. We also talked about how when someone shows you grace, our response should be to love that person and to do our best to honor them in return. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What amazes me and humbles me about God, is the amount of GRACE that He shows me on a daily basis. I am so undeserving, but He constantly gives me what I didn't earn. It started with salvation, and then He just heaps on blessing after blessing. His GRACE is what draws me to Him. I pray that GRACE becomes a truth that abides in your heart, and draws you to Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1228551890621813685?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1228551890621813685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1228551890621813685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1228551890621813685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1228551890621813685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2012/01/there-is-so-much-to-write-about-but-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6115675973345420891</id><published>2011-12-18T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-18T13:07:35.755-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tpQop78BhGc/Tu5Vsllzh1I/AAAAAAAAB7w/zffTaoxcxHw/s1600/elf%2Bon%2Bshelf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tpQop78BhGc/Tu5Vsllzh1I/AAAAAAAAB7w/zffTaoxcxHw/s320/elf%2Bon%2Bshelf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687577603908798290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elf on the Shelf. I thought it was cute idea when our friends, the Wyatts, introduced you to their family elf last Christmas. L and G (your buddies that you miss terribly) have grandparents that are currently attending our church, and they thoughtfully and generously gave one to our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Daddy got home on Friday night, we sat down and read the story, and then quickly followed the directions to name our elf. We welcomed Johngle Bells (Parker thought of "John" and I Christmas-fied it) warmly into our home, and placed him dutifully on the shelf in the kitchen. Now, the story indicates that this elf stays in our home each day and observes your behavior, and at night he flies back to the North Pole and gives Santa a full report. The book also says that every morning when the elf returns to our home, he will be in a different place than the night before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, each morning you boys wake up and can't wait to find where Johngle Bells is sitting. So far, you have found him in above your bathroom sink, perched on the kitchen fan, and sitting on the living room couch reading Christmas books we keep in a basket close by.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m5oEQ0C2RKg/Tu5VsZg0x2I/AAAAAAAAB7k/ajWGEFqY7i0/s1600/Photo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m5oEQ0C2RKg/Tu5VsZg0x2I/AAAAAAAAB7k/ajWGEFqY7i0/s320/Photo1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687577600666683234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy and I have had so much fun with you boys...I sneaked (Daddy insists this is the proper term) back in the house and switched out the book Johngle Bells was reading, so when we came home from church you boys were squealing uncontrollably that the elf can actually read. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so much fun for the whole family. The best part is that the creator of the Elf on the Shelf phenomenon wisely included a "no touch" clause in the story. If you touch the elf, he immediately looses his magic. You boys have honored this rule...so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so many ideas of where Daddy and I are going to put him next, and I also have friends who shared where their Elf has been in their home. He is coming on our car trip back to Chicago with us, and he'll be observing the two days we are there before Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker you told me the other day that kids in your class were saying that Santa wasn't real. I asked you what you thought, and you said, "I believe Mom. I really do believe". Aweee...you're so cute! I don't know how many years we have left until you boys figure out that Santa isn't real, but for now it is sooooooo much fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6115675973345420891?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6115675973345420891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6115675973345420891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6115675973345420891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6115675973345420891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/elf-on-shelf.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tpQop78BhGc/Tu5Vsllzh1I/AAAAAAAAB7w/zffTaoxcxHw/s72-c/elf%2Bon%2Bshelf.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6868872760287859091</id><published>2011-12-16T08:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T08:21:20.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We spent some time over breakfast this morning reviewing proper gift getting etiquette. For example, if someone gives you a gift and you open it to find a loaf of stale bread, you are to respond, "Thank you for thinking of me, I really like the color." So I tested each of you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, I told you that you just opened the game of Sorry (which you already have), and you responded, "Thank you for thinking of me. This is a fun game!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent, I told you that you just opened up socks, and you responded, "Thank you for thinking of me, I really don't have a lot of socks. I really really don't." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I told you that if you felt like you need to make a comment on the gift,because you just couldn't hold it in, you could find your way over to me and whisper it in my ear, "Can we return this?", or "I already have this", or "I don't like socks." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reviewed the story of the Apostle Paul with you. I told you about his conversion on the road to Damascus from the persecuting Saul to the greatest missionary that ever lived, Paul. I explained to you that Paul was beaten, shipwrecked, put in prison, starved, etc etc, and he still managed to say, "I am content in everything." We talked about the meaning of being content with what we have, and not always needing more toys, more games, more bikes, more DVDs, more this and more that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked you then what it means to be content and Parker you said, "It means to just be happy with what you have." Kent, you said, "Don't want more stuff." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a lesson I am still learning, and need to be reminded of daily. But now is as good as season as any to take the time to review this fundamental principle of being a follower of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Philippians 4:12, "I have learned to be content in any and all circumstances..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6868872760287859091?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6868872760287859091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6868872760287859091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6868872760287859091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6868872760287859091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/we-spent-some-time-over-breakfast-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-9045800734211332640</id><published>2011-12-13T18:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T18:39:21.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/2636128?title=0&amp;amp;byline=0&amp;amp;portrait=0" width="400" height="270" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/2636128"&gt;christmas 2008&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/erikscottberg"&gt;Erik Scottberg&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-9045800734211332640?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/9045800734211332640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=9045800734211332640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/9045800734211332640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/9045800734211332640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-2008-from-erik-scottberg-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3848912918044475858</id><published>2011-12-13T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T18:38:07.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>decorating the christmas tree</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ROgZ4a6yhaw?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3848912918044475858?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3848912918044475858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3848912918044475858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3848912918044475858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3848912918044475858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/decorating-christmas-tree.html' title='decorating the christmas tree'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ROgZ4a6yhaw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3393832962308328810</id><published>2011-12-13T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T18:37:52.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OPsCj4ey_Rg?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3393832962308328810?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3393832962308328810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3393832962308328810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3393832962308328810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3393832962308328810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-2010.html' title='Christmas 2010'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/OPsCj4ey_Rg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8437793583451172961</id><published>2011-12-12T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T14:20:40.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Upon completing his Rainbow Math initiative successfully, Kenters said, "When I grow up, I'm going to be a Mathmagician!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! I'm not sure if you are going to use numbers in a magic show, or it you meant to say 'Mathematician". Either way, you crack me up kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8437793583451172961?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8437793583451172961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8437793583451172961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8437793583451172961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8437793583451172961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/upon-completing-his-rainbow-math.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7444906511798582363</id><published>2011-12-12T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T07:57:23.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_LEB3Hgoy4/TuYi3RJjz1I/AAAAAAAAB7U/4_oesAF39FE/s1600/parkerspart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_LEB3Hgoy4/TuYi3RJjz1I/AAAAAAAAB7U/4_oesAF39FE/s320/parkerspart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685269912493477714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, here you are as a "Country Cousin" in our church's children's program. You were very animated and you sang loud and clear so everyone...and I mean everyone...could hear you. You've come such a long way from being a quiet and shy toddler...so proud of you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rXMy1KQlr2I/TuYipbS613I/AAAAAAAAB7I/eYjTbGD62i8/s1600/kentspart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rXMy1KQlr2I/TuYipbS613I/AAAAAAAAB7I/eYjTbGD62i8/s320/kentspart.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685269674698921842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters, here you are saying your line in the program..."I'm as happy as can be, and I wish you all to hear it. I'm thankful for the gift of Christ, and his love makes the Christmas spirit." You were shy and spoke softly, but I am so proud that you were brave enough to stand up there and recite your lines for memory. What a great debut little man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LNcW4wnIVgI/TuYipP8GDPI/AAAAAAAAB68/npbJL84zVnY/s1600/bells.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LNcW4wnIVgI/TuYipP8GDPI/AAAAAAAAB68/npbJL84zVnY/s320/bells.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685269671650397426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night you boys joined the Cornerstone children's bell choir and played bells for the community for an hour. It was cold, it was long, but you boys are troopers!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7444906511798582363?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7444906511798582363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7444906511798582363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7444906511798582363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7444906511798582363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/parker-here-you-are-as-country-cousin.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q_LEB3Hgoy4/TuYi3RJjz1I/AAAAAAAAB7U/4_oesAF39FE/s72-c/parkerspart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5106517304864426645</id><published>2011-12-09T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T13:05:32.099-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I get very sappy at Christmastime. It makes me long for home, and for traditions, and to be with those I love most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before I drown in a pit of despair, I try to focus on what God has given to me...and that is our wonderful, healthy, and fun family of 4. If the old cliche' is true, and "home is where the heart is", then my home is with you and Daddy, because you three have every inch of my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5106517304864426645?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5106517304864426645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5106517304864426645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5106517304864426645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5106517304864426645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-get-very-sappy-at-christmastime.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2049856708455264574</id><published>2011-12-06T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T07:08:32.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qj4GnaE9790/Tt4uRpju9bI/AAAAAAAAB60/avcmIRdD15Q/s1600/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qj4GnaE9790/Tt4uRpju9bI/AAAAAAAAB60/avcmIRdD15Q/s320/022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683030660536530354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Daddy reading "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" to you boys by the light of the Christmas Tree. It's become a tradition that you boys love, because of Daddy's multiple voices used to depict the characters of this book. Earlier in the night, we watched, "Santa Claus: The Movie" from 1985. Tis the Season! We have kept our scheduling intentionally minimal this season so we can spend as much time together as a family as possible...got to take advantage of every moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-04ADcj5aG9o/Tt4uRetyx6I/AAAAAAAAB6k/NsLUaDRfSkA/s1600/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-04ADcj5aG9o/Tt4uRetyx6I/AAAAAAAAB6k/NsLUaDRfSkA/s320/020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683030657625933730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is our family gingerbread house..always a good time creating a masterpiece...and a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AGgumniIIA4/Tt4uQBFO0uI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/xAyxbkRZuyE/s1600/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AGgumniIIA4/Tt4uQBFO0uI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/xAyxbkRZuyE/s320/013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683030632491307746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is the 4 of us at Kent's Christmas concert at school. Kent they put you in the back row, and we couldn't even see your cute face :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Uypa89CnqE0/Tt4uP5FgkXI/AAAAAAAAB6M/tMBkvgLOWHI/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Uypa89CnqE0/Tt4uP5FgkXI/AAAAAAAAB6M/tMBkvgLOWHI/s320/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683030630344986994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent, here are you and your buddy, TF, from church. This was the first Royal Ranger Council of Achievement for both of you. Too cute for words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2049856708455264574?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2049856708455264574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2049856708455264574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2049856708455264574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2049856708455264574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/here-is-daddy-reading-how-grinch-stole.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qj4GnaE9790/Tt4uRpju9bI/AAAAAAAAB60/avcmIRdD15Q/s72-c/022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1770810416723305930</id><published>2011-12-02T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T09:06:56.022-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've mentioned on here before that you love love love your Bible. You've misplaced your little orange New Testament, and have dutifully replaced it with my pocket sized black one. You will sit and flip through it pretending to read it, you'll sleep with it, you take it along for car rides regardless of where we are going, you've brought it to Parker's soccer games and sat on the sidelines thumbing through it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we were on our way to Pizza Hut to celebrate you making your musical debut in the Christmas Program at your school, and you had my Bible tucked under your arm. Parker noticed and asked, "Kent, why do you always have the Bible with you? We are going to Pizza Hut, not church."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without missing a beat you responded, "Because God lives in there! And He lives in my heart."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have asked me before why you cannot see God, and now I am wondering if you want to be reassured of His presence, and that's why you carry your Bible with you all the time. In the next few days I am going to talk to you about the Holy Spirit, and the role He plays in our lives. He is the presence and promise of God, and He abides in you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of the fact that we need to iron out your theology a bit, I love your love for God's Word...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, in I cannot include all of these wonderful things about your attachment to the Good Book, without also included a funny story as well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy walked in on you and you were thumbing through the Bible in bed and pretending to read, "And Jesus said that we should eat elephants...hahahahahahaha". Always a jester you are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1770810416723305930?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1770810416723305930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1770810416723305930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1770810416723305930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1770810416723305930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/12/kent-ive-mentioned-on-here-before-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-592149470744890683</id><published>2011-11-30T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T08:20:30.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl8nTk4hr20/TtZV6ItsEOI/AAAAAAAAB50/0mz_pPfCKaM/s1600/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl8nTk4hr20/TtZV6ItsEOI/AAAAAAAAB50/0mz_pPfCKaM/s320/013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680822437234348258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters you are helping Daddy put up the lights. I had to leave in the middle of our tree trimming in order to buy more lights at Ace. There are about 1,000 lights on that 8 foot tree! Good thing Daddy had a helper!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4KoiZEcZrFU/TtZV5g0zOyI/AAAAAAAAB5o/wobUcAQ8B2g/s1600/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4KoiZEcZrFU/TtZV5g0zOyI/AAAAAAAAB5o/wobUcAQ8B2g/s320/024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680822426526759714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our candy cane we hang on the tree each year. It's the last ornament we put on, and we take time to talk about the red blood that Jesus shed on the cross, and the white represents the purity of hearts after Jesus forgave our sins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AGg-nldNV_w/TtZV5Coq8OI/AAAAAAAAB5c/G4IcFNDv-AI/s1600/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AGg-nldNV_w/TtZV5Coq8OI/AAAAAAAAB5c/G4IcFNDv-AI/s320/015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680822418422821090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You two are certainly enjoying yourselves while rearranging the nativity scene. You were cracking yourselves up telling different versions of the Christmas Story...for example, "What if the Donkey laid in the manger instead of Jesus...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" &lt;br /&gt;href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dCk2rT0QlZ4/TtZV4iYRmwI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/yLMMuUc-cwU/s1600/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dCk2rT0QlZ4/TtZV4iYRmwI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/yLMMuUc-cwU/s320/018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680822409764117250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this one of you two in your Santa hats decorating the tree. You are both so purposeful in where you place each ornament...I tried my best not to move any decor...even if one was too close to the other...okay wait, I did move one. Daddy has a hot dog ornament from 1990, and you boys placed it right smack in the front of the tree...which I promptly moved to a very prominent place in the BACK of the tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-592149470744890683?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/592149470744890683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=592149470744890683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/592149470744890683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/592149470744890683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/kenters-you-are-helping-daddy-put-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl8nTk4hr20/TtZV6ItsEOI/AAAAAAAAB50/0mz_pPfCKaM/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-45241345839919688</id><published>2011-11-28T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T16:29:39.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JYXk7dNAPpg/TtO4Zyv-Z5I/AAAAAAAAB5E/j6pFKkGcT_I/s1600/219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JYXk7dNAPpg/TtO4Zyv-Z5I/AAAAAAAAB5E/j6pFKkGcT_I/s320/219.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680086308303562642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went bowling with the Scottbergs on Saturday: fun times. You both really got in to it and celebrated drastically with each success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--7TsEu9HruA/TtO4Zqmi1RI/AAAAAAAAB44/r85p4qM7vpw/s1600/213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--7TsEu9HruA/TtO4Zqmi1RI/AAAAAAAAB44/r85p4qM7vpw/s320/213.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680086306116523282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are you and Sarah on the Scottberg Express. My oh my how you couldn't keep yourselves from sliding on their tile floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k9G6GNVhnqY/TtO4YWrXDKI/AAAAAAAAB4s/A5J6UP0xIs4/s1600/170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k9G6GNVhnqY/TtO4YWrXDKI/AAAAAAAAB4s/A5J6UP0xIs4/s320/170.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680086283588144290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thanksgiving Day we had fun with props and took many, many, many, many photos. Here is one of my favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rwz56js3ACg/TtO4YK_vrzI/AAAAAAAAB4c/4f-dpaLLxDw/s1600/168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rwz56js3ACg/TtO4YK_vrzI/AAAAAAAAB4c/4f-dpaLLxDw/s320/168.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680086280452419378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the 4 Elton Grandsons. Parker, Kent, Blake, and Reid. Silly boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oHdPC8CGulY/TtO4X1pAaWI/AAAAAAAAB4U/qsaDtIN6WGU/s1600/085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oHdPC8CGulY/TtO4X1pAaWI/AAAAAAAAB4U/qsaDtIN6WGU/s320/085.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680086274719902050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker and Nico right after they finished the 5k Turkey Trot in Naperville on Thanksgiving morning. This is a definite new tradition!Parker, you did so well..you walked a couple of times, but only for a few seconds..I'd say, "Look at that girl in front of you..are you gonna let her beat you?" And then you'd respond by picking up the pace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0BkEc5ZiNkY/TtO2pyDfuwI/AAAAAAAAB4I/oNQhO1M-244/s1600/218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0BkEc5ZiNkY/TtO2pyDfuwI/AAAAAAAAB4I/oNQhO1M-244/s320/218.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680084383971654402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent at the bowling alley on Saturday. You let go of the ball a good 10 feet before the lane started...you crack me up child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-45241345839919688?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/45241345839919688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=45241345839919688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/45241345839919688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/45241345839919688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/we-went-bowling-with-scottbergs-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JYXk7dNAPpg/TtO4Zyv-Z5I/AAAAAAAAB5E/j6pFKkGcT_I/s72-c/219.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-273060100656163942</id><published>2011-11-19T20:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T16:50:35.415-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w7FADjLjAQ0/TsmgNTCrjyI/AAAAAAAAB3w/sLHJlejrfSo/s1600/disney.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 282px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w7FADjLjAQ0/TsmgNTCrjyI/AAAAAAAAB3w/sLHJlejrfSo/s320/disney.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677244955587481378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sat down after dinner tonight and we did a "Thanksgiving" exercise. We first wrote down what we were thankful to God for. Here is what each of us wrote down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker-I thank God for my family.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy-I thank God for sending Jesus to die for me.&lt;br /&gt;Daddy-I thank God for a smokin' hot wife.&lt;br /&gt;Kent-I thank God for food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAAAAAAAAAAAA. I love us! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we continued by writing what we were thankful for concerning each member of our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;KENT:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Mommy said "I am thankful that Kent makes me laugh, that he tries hard to be my helper, and that he cuddles."&lt;br /&gt;*Daddy said "I am thankful that Kent cuddles me and makes me laugh".&lt;br /&gt;*Parker said "I am thankful that Kent is funny and cute".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Parker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy said "I am thankful that Parker tries hard at school, sports, and snuggles.&lt;br /&gt;Daddy said "I am thankful that Parker helps me with stuff and that he cuddles."&lt;br /&gt;Kent said "I am thankful that Parker plays with me and I love him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Mommy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent said "I am thankful that Mommy cuddles me."&lt;br /&gt;Parker said "I am thankful that Mommy cooks good food."&lt;br /&gt;Daddy said "I am thankful that Mommy is hot, she cooks, and cleans, and is hot".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Daddy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Mommy said "I am thankful that Daddy works hard and loves me."&lt;br /&gt;*Kent said "I am thankful Daddy loves me".&lt;br /&gt;*Parker said "I am thankful Daddy gets us money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part is when we each listened to what the other families members said about us. You boys GUSHED when hearing how thankful the other members of the family were for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this new idea, and it will become a Thanksgiving time tradition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-273060100656163942?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/273060100656163942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=273060100656163942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/273060100656163942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/273060100656163942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/we-sat-down-after-dinner-tonight-and-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w7FADjLjAQ0/TsmgNTCrjyI/AAAAAAAAB3w/sLHJlejrfSo/s72-c/disney.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-4791875732365083031</id><published>2011-11-16T13:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T13:22:54.005-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In the news lately, there have been so many unfortunate reports about crimes against children. Last night as I lay awake thinking thinking about these children, their families, and really the depravity of all humanity, I decided that I needed some comfort by being with the two of you. At 1:30 am, I left my bed (and a snoring Daddy), and I bunked with you guys in your room. I checked to see if you were sleeping safely and soundly, I snuggled, and I kissed your cheeks, and then I zonked out in Kent's bottom bunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6:15 this morning Kent, you rolled over and noticed me in your sleeping space, and said, "Mommy! What are you doing in my bed? He heee".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sometimes Moms have bad dreams too, and they like to be by their kids."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That seemed a good enough answer to you. You rolled back over and slept soundly until 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys, I pray for God's divine protection for your lives. I pray for His angels to take charge over you. I pray for Him to be with you at all times, since I cannot be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus, be a shelter and fortress for Parker and Kent. Be the hen that hides them under the shadow of your wings. Protect them from evil thoughts, attitudes, and people. Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-4791875732365083031?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/4791875732365083031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=4791875732365083031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4791875732365083031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4791875732365083031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/in-news-lately-there-have-been-so-many.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3682058386988263180</id><published>2011-11-10T08:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T07:37:47.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMJkrCbcWGg/Tr1BC6eUtkI/AAAAAAAAB3c/lQ_rk4t3hng/s1600/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMJkrCbcWGg/Tr1BC6eUtkI/AAAAAAAAB3c/lQ_rk4t3hng/s320/053.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673762623868679746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love your hair. You have the best hair out of anyone in our family. Dad's hair can be brillo pad like...and Parker's hair gets very rough. My hair is thin and wavy (YUCK!). But you my child, have awesome locks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides being a gorgeous shade of blonde, your hair is thick, and straight, with the perfect amount of bounce. Because of that, I have let your hair grow out these last few months. I secretly love that you look a little like Justin, since I've got a touch of Bieber Fever, but if I ever said that to you, you would f-l-i-p out! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The back of your hair seems to grow at a faster pace than the rest, so to avoid a mullet, we will be taking you tomorrow to get a trim. I have asked you if you wanted to cut your hair like Parker, and you said, "No. I like my bangs in my face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always want to freeze you just as you, but now especially...you are so adorable, and one look from you, or one spoken word, and my heart turns to mush.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3682058386988263180?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3682058386988263180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3682058386988263180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3682058386988263180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3682058386988263180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/kent-i-love-your-hair.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wMJkrCbcWGg/Tr1BC6eUtkI/AAAAAAAAB3c/lQ_rk4t3hng/s72-c/053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-911021335571227181</id><published>2011-11-10T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T06:55:09.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Scriptures I read today that impacted my heart from Hebrews 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V1:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;So we must listen carefully to the truth we have heard, or we may drift away from&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;it.&lt;/span&gt; **This implies to me that we must CONTINUALLY hear the TRUTH or we will drift away. This supports the importance of being under a Godly teaching and preaching. We will never outgrow or mature enough in our faith to not need to hear TRUTH spoken regularly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V4:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; And God verified the message (of salvation) by signs, miracles, and by giving gifts of the Holy Spirit whenever he chose to do so.&lt;/span&gt; **Miracles were not for attention, but to reinforce the power and activeness and reality of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V9b:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Yes, by God's grace, Jesus tasted death for everyone in all the world.&lt;/span&gt; ***THANK YOU JESUS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V10b&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Through the suffering of Jesus, God made him a perfect leader, one fit to bring them into their salvation.&lt;/span&gt; ***God made Jesus the perfect one to bring salvation to the world. This is why Jesus is worthy to be praised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;v11:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;So now Jesus and the ones he makes holy have the same Father. That is why Jesus is not ashamed to call them his brothers and sisters.&lt;/span&gt; ***When we become one with Christ, we share in all that is His..and that includes his Father. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;v:17&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Therefore, it was necessary for Jesus to be in every aspect like us, his brothers and sisters, so that he could be our merciful and faithful High Priest before God. He could offer a sacrifice that would take away the sins of the people. &lt;/span&gt;**Because Jesus was perfect, he qualified as the only acceptable sacrifice to pay the price for the sins of the world. He was the only one who could have done that. I also love how this verse reminds us that Jesus is Merciful and Faithful, two attributes I need Jesus to be daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;V18:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Since he himself has gone through suffering and temptation, he is able to help us when we are tempted.&lt;/span&gt; ***I love that I serve someone who understands and can identify with every struggle I've ever encountered. He has faced the same trials as I have, yet has overcome. He knows how to get me through, because he's walked this same path.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-911021335571227181?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/911021335571227181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=911021335571227181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/911021335571227181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/911021335571227181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/scriptures-i-read-today-that-impacted.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8621604134218672880</id><published>2011-11-08T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T16:52:34.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So busy, but I wanted to post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters, I felt so bad for you all last week. You were really sick with a cold, croup, and sinus issues, that eventually led to an ear infection. You were able to have one of your buddies sleep over though, and you were happy about that. I think it is so funny that you want to go to school...you were upset when I told you that you had to stay home for a few days. You missed your buddies Evan and Connor. I am so happy that you are happy at school. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, you too were feeling really under the weather the last week. You had the croup as well, and then ended up having a really nasty ear infection. Even though you weren't feeling a 100% I knew you wouldn't want to miss your soccer tournament on Saturday, so I let you play. I could tell your breathing was labored and that you weren't your usual unstoppable self, but regardless, you scored 3 goals in the first game, and 1 in the second game, and your team not only won 1st place in the division, but you were also tournament champs. Boy, do you love soccer. And do you love winning even more! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vLLSEfhDE9w/TsmgqJvDOnI/AAAAAAAAB38/zfco3tbz9qw/s1600/soccer%2Bchamps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vLLSEfhDE9w/TsmgqJvDOnI/AAAAAAAAB38/zfco3tbz9qw/s320/soccer%2Bchamps.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677245451305433714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8621604134218672880?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8621604134218672880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8621604134218672880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8621604134218672880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8621604134218672880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-busy-but-i-wanted-to-post-kenters-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vLLSEfhDE9w/TsmgqJvDOnI/AAAAAAAAB38/zfco3tbz9qw/s72-c/soccer%2Bchamps.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2515954412033144730</id><published>2011-11-07T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T17:41:40.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If God loves everyone, does he love Satan?&lt;br /&gt;If God made everyone, who made God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questions from you, my little inquisitive 7 and a half year old, Parker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to talk you through, reference Scripture, and then I send you off to Daddy to ask him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2515954412033144730?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2515954412033144730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2515954412033144730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2515954412033144730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2515954412033144730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/if-god-loves-everyone-does-he-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2909403053543699182</id><published>2011-11-03T20:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T20:14:31.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parker: you are in the 99th percentile for reading, and your grade equivalent is 5.6. I am so proud of your academic accomplishments. You are getting all "A's" with actual 100 % in Spelling and Math. You really do work hard, and you are very self-motivated. I pray this trend continues! But, the greatest thing I heard at your conference was the teacher said that you really encourage your classmates when they are struggling with something...you offer them help and reassurance. You received awards for behavior and reading, of which you want displayed for all to see. So proud of you! Keep up the good work!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters: your teacher has very complimentary of your behavior, of your effort, and of your academic endeavors. She celebrated your ability to read, put capital letters at the beginning of sentences, count, write, letter and sound recognition, and your behavior. You received all "+" marks, and I am so thrilled for academic and social requirements! Just yesterday you sat down and read "Are You My Mother" to me. There really is no greater sound than you reading out loud...it is music to my ears. She did tell me a funny story: You were instructed to draw a picture and write a corresponding sentence that explained something "autumn like" you did over the weekend. You drew a picture of a fox and wrote, "Tis is a fox". When she commented on your work and asked why you chose to write what you did, you said something along the lines of, "I really didn't see a fox, I just chose it cause I knew it would be easy to write." Seriously, your humor is second to none. I am so proud of you Kenters! Keep up the good work!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2909403053543699182?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2909403053543699182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2909403053543699182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2909403053543699182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2909403053543699182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/parker-you-are-in-99th-percentile-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7077197108834131111</id><published>2011-11-03T08:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-03T08:24:11.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;November 1st:&lt;/span&gt; God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. They worked in perfect unity to create the world, redeem the world, and restore the world. I am thankful that God gave His son, that Jesus willing sacrificed His life, and that the Holy Spirit continually draws my heart unto Him. I am thankful that although He is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lord, He also desires to be my Father and my Friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;November 2nd:&lt;/span&gt; The Word of God. I am thankful that we are given the very words of God that teach us who He is, and how to connect to Him. I am thankful that the Word of God is living, active, and relevant to my life today. I am thankful that Scritpure is Truth, and it is the final authority in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;November 3rd:&lt;/span&gt; I am thankful for Daddy, the love of my life. I fell in love with him when I was a Senior in high school, and I knew then that there was no one else for me. He loves me unconditionally, he is the type of Christ follower that I strive to be like, and he is the husband, father, and servant that I desire for you to grow up to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;November 4th: &lt;/span&gt;You. Plain and simple. You have enriched my life, and you give more to me than I could ever give to you. I always wanted two boys, and God gave me the desire of my heart. To quote one of my favorite lines from any book "I love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I"m living, my baby you'll be."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7077197108834131111?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7077197108834131111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7077197108834131111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7077197108834131111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7077197108834131111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/november-1st-god-father-god-son-and-god.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-4065789317464619613</id><published>2011-11-02T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T16:15:44.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You boys are sick. Kent you have the croup, and a 102 degree fever. Parker, you are coughing too, so the Dr. has ordered some rest and some medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. My. Word. This medicine that aids in opening up your air passages so you can hack out all the phlegm (mm...tasty), also makes you bounce-off-the-walls hyper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the two of you home from school today, and you were wound up to the point where I wanted to pull my own hair out. You are supposed to be resting, but this medicine makes your want to run around the house, play kickball in the basement, wrestle for hours, jump on couches, and talk non-stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like when a child is home from school sick, and all they want to do is sleep, watch TV, and cuddle. I think if you are well enough to be crazy, you're well enough to go to school..unfortunately you are still germ factories, so we have to keep you in another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord help us all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-4065789317464619613?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/4065789317464619613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=4065789317464619613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4065789317464619613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4065789317464619613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/11/you-boys-are-sick.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-4152907439389866833</id><published>2011-10-31T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T16:16:34.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Griswalds Take Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YRgiv1Tqy0Q/TrALiQ7RT2I/AAAAAAAAB24/x76MlOSV354/s1600/051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YRgiv1Tqy0Q/TrALiQ7RT2I/AAAAAAAAB24/x76MlOSV354/s320/051.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670044614146477922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent, this is you dressed up in your costume a few days before the "big day". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f6sMpmHJgcw/TrALiMu1qPI/AAAAAAAAB2s/JGYSaiff9w8/s1600/055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f6sMpmHJgcw/TrALiMu1qPI/AAAAAAAAB2s/JGYSaiff9w8/s320/055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670044613020592370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, this is you as an "extreme soccer player" You loved that green hair dye!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For starters, our town has trick or treat hours two days in a row...not sure why, but we love it, nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker you had a game out of town on Sunday, and when we got home I let you guys get dressed in your costumes and go for candy in our cul-de-sac...which literally consists of 10 houses. Then we turned left out of our street and hit 4 houses, and then turned right and hit another 4. We were out for about 25 minutes before Kent, you asked if we could go back. You LOVE candy, so I knew something wasn't right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friends were hosting a bonfire/chili/group trick or treat around their neighborhood yesterday on Halloween, and all 4 of us were planning on attending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cue the Griswald tradition of something always going awry on holidays and special occasions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday after school ,Kent, you came home complaining of a head ache. I took your temp, and sure enough, you had a 102 degree fever. You were out of order for the evening. I felt so bad for you that I went to Walgreens to buy you the candy of your choice (Mike n Ikes and Swedish Fish), to McDonalds for a cheeseburger and fries, and I let you play computer games longer than any normal person should. You and Daddy stayed home and gave out candy to those who rang our bell. I had asked you if you wanted to dress up in your costume to do so, but you declined. Poor baby. I hate seeing your energetic self being lethargic and apathetic. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QMzc8pdJ4ao/TrALiwWfSdI/AAAAAAAAB3E/OlrSlPUZmzM/s1600/056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QMzc8pdJ4ao/TrALiwWfSdI/AAAAAAAAB3E/OlrSlPUZmzM/s320/056.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670044622582139346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, you and I headed off to the Kellers, and after about 45 minutes of Trick or Treating you realized you had a hole in your bag, and it was completely empty. You should have seen the look on your face when you registered what had occurred. I could tell you wanted to cry, but because you were surrounded by friends, you remained tough. You just buried your head in my side (of which I was weary of because your hair was dyed green and I was afraid it was going to rub off on my nice red pea coat---I know, I'm a terrible). Thank Jesus, seriously, Thank you Jesus, that you have such wonderful friends who all contributed to your candy fund. Mrs. Keller had an extra bag with her, and you were able to hit a few more houses before the night was over. You had more than enough candy to make any 7 1/2 year old content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chuckled to myself as I was thinking about Kent's fever on one of the kids most favorite days of the year, and how Parker had a hole in his bag and lost all his candy...this just keeps us in line with the Griswald tradition...in the past 12 months Parker threw up Christmas morning during Mimi's fancy breakfast at her professionally decorated dining room table, I got Kidney stones at Epcot on our once in a life-time vacation, I had to be away from you guys and at a funeral on my birthday...the list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are the Griswalds, but our memories are laughable and they will last us a lifetime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-4152907439389866833?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/4152907439389866833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=4152907439389866833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4152907439389866833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4152907439389866833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/griswalds-take-halloween.html' title='The Griswalds Take Halloween'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YRgiv1Tqy0Q/TrALiQ7RT2I/AAAAAAAAB24/x76MlOSV354/s72-c/051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8075161070181726128</id><published>2011-10-31T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T09:54:21.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Busy Busy Busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've got commitments (most of them fun, a few of them obligatory) every night this week. I can hardly believe we are coming up on 2 years here in Bethalto. I feel like I've been here for a very long time...and in a good way. Everyone here has been so welcoming, and has treated us like family from day one. We are integrated in to the community, and I love that they have so many family oriented activities and opportunities. I love that we have a church family who quickly adopted us as their own, and I love that you've made great roots in the schools here as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may be busy, but our schedules are packed because our life is blessed with relationships. We just have to be cautious that our relationships with God and with our immediate family unit get fed as well amongst all the activity in our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8075161070181726128?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8075161070181726128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8075161070181726128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8075161070181726128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8075161070181726128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/busy-busy-busy.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3925792881552029028</id><published>2011-10-28T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T07:58:04.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Cardinals are in the World Series, and we live in a sea of red...but our blood is royal blue. I have had your teachers tell me it would be a good idea for you to support the Cardinals at school, to which I replied, "I appreciate you being concerned for them, but that's not what we teach them at home". You chose a team, you support them, you commit to them, and you exemplify loyalty and faithfulness to that team-regardless of their record-or where you live. Growing up on the Northside of Chicago made us Cub fans. That is who I chose when I was 7 and watched my 1st 3 hour game on WGN. In the past 26 years, we've only had a handful of seasons to celebrate, but we're fans regardless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lived in Cubs territory my whole life until we moved to the South Side of Chicago in 2002 to serve at a local church there, and then we stayed in the Southern Suburbs for our next ministry position as well. We lived in the heart of White Sox territory, and were living there when they won the World Series in 2005. It was NO FUN, but we survived. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we are living in St. Louis while the Cardinals are in the World Series. You boys take quite a beating at school, but you keep on ticking. You take all the ridicule in perfect stride. You've never once came home and wanted to change allegiance, and that makes my heart swell with pride. Instead, all the opposition has caused you to be more bold for the team you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was "wear a hat" day at school for you, Parker, and you proudly wore your Cubs hat. I asked you if you were prepared for what you were going to face today, and you just smiled and said, "Yep!".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a spiritual parallel here. We, as Cubs fan living in St. Louis or the South Side of Chicago, are in the definite minority. But all of the backlash you have received from your peers has only made you stronger. You have been tested, and you've have been found faithful to your team. In the same way, you as a Christians are in the definite minority in this ungodly world. My prayer is that all the persecution, ridicule, and backlash you will receive will only make you a stronger follower of Christ. You will be tested, and my prayer is that you will be found faithful. I pray that you will be defiant to the enemy, absolutely refusing to back down. I pray that you will be an unwaivering follower of Jesus, and though no one else may be on your side, you would still stand up for Truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminds me of an old old song that I sang when I first surrendered my life to Christ as a teenager...I literally lost friends and social status when I got serious about my faith, but it was worth it. I would sing these lyrics over and over again..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to follow Jesus&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to follow Jesus&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to follow Jesus&lt;br /&gt;No turning back&lt;br /&gt;No turning back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Though none go with me, still I will follow&lt;br /&gt;Though none go with me, still I will follow&lt;br /&gt;Though none go with me, still I will follow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No turning back&lt;br /&gt;No turning back&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3925792881552029028?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3925792881552029028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3925792881552029028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3925792881552029028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3925792881552029028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/cardinals-are-in-world-series-and-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6800768892141003784</id><published>2011-10-27T19:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T19:48:28.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like all I do on here is tell you I love you, but there will be days ahead in your life's journey, where you will need that reminder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to love others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to LOVE, Jesus because He first loved you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6800768892141003784?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6800768892141003784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6800768892141003784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6800768892141003784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6800768892141003784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-feel-like-all-i-do-on-here-is-tell.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-4526190117035571804</id><published>2011-10-24T07:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T07:22:00.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Gracious Boys...we've got so much going on. Last week my great-great Uncle Johnnie passed away. John Margliano was Grandma Bea's older brother. He was born in 1932, fought in the Korean War, lived in Chicago his entire life, and was a very generous man to those he loved. I gave the eulogy at his funeral, and although it was sad, I felt honored to be able to tell others about the kind man that I knew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You two stayed home with Daddy and were able to go to Bloomington on Saturday to see Grandpa Paul and Diane, and Uncle Brian and the girls. You had a great time there, but I was happy to be reunited with the three loves of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we are carving Pumpkins, and then later this week Daddy and I have to leave town to attend the memorial services for Uncle Jason's dad who passed away on Saturday after a long fight with cancer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were at the cemetery paying our final respects to Uncle Johnnie, we also took a few moments to visit Grandpa Gaspare's grave. It was very moving, because it was the first time I saw it since his passing almost two years ago. I loved him very much, and I still miss his presence in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have been surrounded by "death" this past week, I have really begun to examine my heart and life. Jesus is the only one who gives our life purpose and meaning. He is what makes us significant and worth any value at all. When we die, we take nothing with us, and all we leave behind is our legacy. I want my legacy to be that I pointed people to Jesus. That's it. I probably won't leave you a large inheritance when I die, but I want to leave you with the Jesus that I knew. If at the end of my life, I can say that I served Jesus with my whole heart, and that I led people to Him, I will die a content soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our eternity is sealed when Jesus is our Lord. Our eternity is secure when He is our Savior.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-4526190117035571804?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/4526190117035571804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=4526190117035571804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4526190117035571804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4526190117035571804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/gracious-boys.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5949452083288779941</id><published>2011-10-19T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T08:18:59.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YGgLzoMbjs0/Tp7qGwA26JI/AAAAAAAAB2E/1pn6YWOF3yA/s1600/IMG_2142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YGgLzoMbjs0/Tp7qGwA26JI/AAAAAAAAB2E/1pn6YWOF3yA/s320/IMG_2142.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665222782967277714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my favorite pics from vacation. I love the way that Parker is sleeping horizontally and I love the way Kent's shorts are on backwards. Oh you two provide so much joy to my life, and I thank God for the honor that I have to be your mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5949452083288779941?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5949452083288779941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5949452083288779941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5949452083288779941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5949452083288779941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-is-one-of-my-favorite-pics-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YGgLzoMbjs0/Tp7qGwA26JI/AAAAAAAAB2E/1pn6YWOF3yA/s72-c/IMG_2142.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8320250190302012517</id><published>2011-10-16T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T12:17:03.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walt Disney World Vacation with Children on a Budget</title><content type='html'>Here are some pointers if you are planning to vacation at Walt Disney World with young children. My husband and I went in October with a 5 year old boy and 7 year old boy, and I'd love to help you along the way. Learn from our triumphs, and our mistakes. In the posts following, I have detailed each day at the parks, as well as rated each attraction. "A" stands for the adult's opinion, and "C" stands for the child's opinion of each attraction, and I used a * scaled, with 5 being the best rating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) If at all possible, drive. We had a 1,000 mile road trip ahead of us to go from St. Louis to Orlando. We left at 10 pm, and the boys slept until 8 am. We arrived in Orlando at 5 pm (it would have been 4 pm, but we missed our exit, and then were stopped for a speeding ticket). The 5 year old took a 2 hour nap in the car as well, so he was only awake for about 4 to 5 hours. I was surprised how manageable driving there was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) If at all possible, stay in a location with kitchen capabilities. We brought the majority of our non-perishable food items, and then stopped at a grocery store right next to our condo to buy milk, fresh fruit and veggies, hot dogs, orange juice, yogurt, lunchmeat, and frozen pizzas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Bring a sack lunch to the parks...of course it is more cost effective, but it also gives you the luxury of eating while you wait in line for an attraction. I found that bringing our lunch saved us time in the park as well as money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) We ate breakfast in our condo each morning before we left. We ate dinner in our condo every night with the exception of the day we were at Magic Kingdom. We ate frozen pizzas, baked ham and cheese sandwhiches, mac n cheese and hotdogs, and pasta and breadsticks...all easy foods with minimal cleanup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Bring bottled water in to the park along with the powdered Crystal Light or Kool-aid or Propel packets...my boys never complained about having something else to drink. When they'd finish their drink, I'd just find another water fountain, fill up their bottle, and add the powdered mixture. At $3.75 for a drink at the park, we saved TONS of money hydrating this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Buy gifts BEFOREHAND. I had purchased small toys at the $ store for each morning we were at a park. I also purchased Toy Story brown paper bags from Dollar Tree in which the gifts were "wrapped". My children never once asked to go in to a gift shop, because I explained that they had received their "gift" at the beginning of the day before we even left. Also, receiving their gift each morning was incentive for them to get our of bed, get dressed, and get to the table for breakfast. Day 1 for Hollywood Studios they received a Mickey Watch (from the $ store), Star Wars coloring kits (purchased for $1 each at Target) and a Disney autograph book ( 40 cents on clearance at Michael's Crafts). Day 2 for Magic Kingdom was a battery operated spinning glow in the dark toy (purchased at Walmart for $4 compared to $15 ones at the parks), a glow stick necklace, and Disney themed yo-yo (from the $1 store). Day 3 for Epcot they received a 50 piece Mickey puzzle (from the $store), a Disney Punch Balloon (from the $ store), and  a Buzz Lightyear and Woody Figurine (from the $ store). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) To help moods while we waited in line, we brought totsie-pops for the boys to have, as well as small coloring books...this helped tremendously! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;GET THERE BEFORE THE PARK OPENS&lt;/span&gt; I cannot stress this point enough. Even though the parks were extremely crowded, our average wait time for a ride was 15 minutes...this was because we rode the most popular rides first, and there weren't as many people to contend with. If you have small children this is imperative...my children did not like to wait in line (what kid does?), so we did what we could to minimize our time in line, and getting there before the park opens is the best solution to this problem. In Magic Kingdom, we rode/did 7 attraction in the first hour and a half..if we didn't do this, we wouldn't have been able to do or see half of what we did because it got so crowded after 10:30 am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8320250190302012517?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8320250190302012517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8320250190302012517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8320250190302012517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8320250190302012517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/walt-disney-world-vacation-with.html' title='Walt Disney World Vacation with Children on a Budget'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2526212742456535704</id><published>2011-10-16T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T12:29:04.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EPCOT Itinerary or schedule or touring plan with Children</title><content type='html'>Epcot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We attended Epcot on a day where the crowd was projected to be a 4.1 out of 10, and I say this was fairly accurate. We arrived at 8:15 and the park opened at 9 am, and we were about the 5th party in line. We ate breakfast at the condo, brought our lunch, and were scheduled to leave early enough to eat dinner at the condo. This is the day where I developed kidney stones and had to leave the park via ambulance, but even though we only made it through 1/2 the countries, this continues to be my personal favorite park. Here is our itinerary and reactions to the attractions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1) Soarin-&lt;/span&gt;we waited about 5 minutes for this attraction, and it was a family favorite. We all wanted to ride it again, but stuck to the schedule instead. We planned on riding it using our FP on our way out of the park, but due to my health issues, we didn't make it back for a second turn. I was shocked at how much my 5 year old enjoyed this ride. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;2) Test Track&lt;/span&gt;-we waited for 15 minutes (it would have been less, but they were experiencing technical difficulties). This was another family favorite. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3) Land of the Living&lt;/span&gt;-I can't say this enough...SKIP IT...total snoozefest. I cannot think of one single redeeming quality about this "attraction". My kids were begging for it to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Under the Seas with Nemo-&lt;/span&gt;we waited 5 minutes for this ride. My husband and I were not impressed at all, but the children enjoyed it. A** C****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Turtle Talk with Crush&lt;/span&gt;-we waited about 10 minutes, but do not miss this! This interactive show had the whole family laughing. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;6) Spaceship Earth-&lt;/span&gt;we waited about 10 minutes to go in to the "golf ball". It was informative and the lights and sights were enough to keep the attention of the children. A*** C***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Character Spot Meet and Greet-&lt;/span&gt;We waited over 30 minutes to meet the characters and get pictures and autographs. But, it's a must, and we will have those memories forever. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;8) Mexico-&lt;/span&gt;the boys enjoyed putting on and taking pictures with the Sombreros in the shop. This is where they first received their stick that was going to be stamped at each country as proof of their "visit".  A*** C***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;9) Norway&lt;/span&gt;-the boys enjoyed the ride on the Maelstrom and picture with the troll in the shop. A**** C****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) China&lt;/span&gt;-the boys really liked getting their names written in Chinese on their passport stick, and I found training choptsticks with their correlating symbols for $1.50 each (too bad I lost that bag at the climax of my kidney stone chaos), but I thought that was an inexpensive token. A**** C****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Germany&lt;/span&gt;-don't remember much about this stop unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Italy&lt;/span&gt;-There was a street performer juggling soccer balls and such, and they boys were enthralled. This is where it all went downhill for me though in regards to the kidney stones. The paramedics came and took me out via stretcher, and Erik and the boys left Epcot immediately to meet me at the hospital...so sadly this was our last country we visited..but, we enjoyed what we saw. A**** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We missed Japan, Morocco, France, UK, and Canada. Oh well. Next time we go, we will travel Epcot counter-clockwise so we hit those countries first! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was skeptical to see how the boys would react to Epcot, but they surprised me and really seemed to enjoy it. Now, don't get me wrong, while we were touring the countries they kept asking to go back to Soarin and Test Track, but all in all they enjoyed their exposure to different cultures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2526212742456535704?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2526212742456535704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2526212742456535704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2526212742456535704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2526212742456535704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/epcot-we-attended-epcot-on-day-where.html' title='EPCOT Itinerary or schedule or touring plan with Children'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5512226270178558719</id><published>2011-10-16T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T12:28:35.988-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic Kingdom Itinerary or Schedule or Touring Plan with Children (Budget Friendly)</title><content type='html'>Magic Kingdom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We attended on a day that was projected to be a 4.2 out of 10, but I would classify it as a 10 out of 10. The day before our visit the park closed at 7pm for Mickey's Not-so-scary Halloween Party, and the day after our visit it closed at 7 pm for the same thing. So everyone decided to go on the day we were there because the park was open later than usual.  We at breakfast at the condo, brought a sack lunch, and ate dinner at the park. This was my 4th time at Magic Kingdom in 12 years, and this was THE most crowded I have ever seen it. At times it was literally impossible to maneuver our stroller through the mass of people. The intense crowd was almost enough to ruin our day. Good thing we had an itinerary that helped us stay ahead of the crowds. We did not wait more than 25 minutes for an attraction; but I did wait in line for close to 30 minutes just to order our hot dog dinner. We arrived at 8:15 and the park opened at 9. This was enough time to put us up fairly close to the front. Here is the itinerary we followed and the reactions from the two adults and 2 children (5 year old boy and 7 year old boy) to the attractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1) Buzz Lightyear&lt;/span&gt;-we literally walked right on this ride, and rode it 2x in a row without waiting at all. We could have rode it a 3rd time, but I was afraid it would throw us too far off schedule. Although we enjoyed this ride, my husband and I didn't think that the shooting mechanisms were as accurate as the Toy Story ride at Hollywood Studios, nevertheless, we all enjoyed it. My kids would have rode this ride all day if we would have let them. We walked past this ride at other points in the day and the wait was up to 60 minutes. A**** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Peter Pan&lt;/span&gt;-we had to cross the park from Tomorrowland to Fantasyland, but that's what the scheduled called for, so we followed it. We walked right on to Peter Pan, and we all enjoyed it. I was surprised at how much my children loved this ride. Again, later in the day this ride had up to a 60 minute wait. A**** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Small World-&lt;/span&gt;we walked right on to this ride, and I forced my kids to ride due to it being a "classic". They were underwhelmed. A*** C**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Mickey's Philar Magic&lt;/span&gt;-We waited about 10 minutes for the start of the show. My husband and I felt like this movie was a bit dated, and the screen was showing the wear and tear of it being so old. But, my kids did enjoy it thoroughly. A** C****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Splash Mountain&lt;/span&gt;-We were supposed to use our FP on this ride, but I lost our tickets somewhere during our morning rush near Fantasyland, so we went ahead and waited the 25 minutes for this ride. The whole family loved it, and the kids begged to ride again. A*** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Big Thunder Mountain&lt;/span&gt;-again, we could not use a FP on this ride due to our missing tickets, so we waited close to 30 minutes for this ride. But it was worth it for the kids, becuase this ended up being their all time favorite ride of the trip. A*** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Pirates of the Carribean&lt;/span&gt;-we waited close to 30 minutes for this ride. I wasn't very impressed, but the kids loved it, and wanted we ended up buying plastic pirate swords at the shop near the exit of the ride for $4.95.  A*** C****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Aladdin's Magic Carpets&lt;/span&gt;-at the advice of a blogger I read, she suggested that we ride the Magic Carpets instead of the Dumbo ride-they are essentially the same attraction, and the Carpets have less of a waiting time. We ended up waiting about 25 minutes for this ride, but again, the kids loved it. A** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Afternoon Parade&lt;/span&gt;-The 5 year old slept through this, but the 7 year old was very engaged. A*** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Town Hall to meet Mickey Mouse&lt;/span&gt;-we waited about 25 minutes to meet Mickey. It was worth every minute. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Monster's Inc&lt;/span&gt;-we waited about 10 minutes for this show. We all enjoyed the show, and I found myself laughing out loud on several occassions. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Jungle Cruise&lt;/span&gt;-We used a FP (I ended up getting replacement tickets), and I'm glad we did. I didn't think this ride was worth the 60 minute wait, but using the FP, we just walked right on.  A*** C***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Tom Sawyer Island-The kids loved it, and were talking very passionately about it when it was over. A*** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Haunted Mansion&lt;/span&gt;-We were all underwhelmed. A** C**.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) Dinner at Casey's Corner&lt;/span&gt;-I waited for close to 30 minutes just to order our food. We ordered 3 hotdogs, 2 french fries, and 1 drink...it cost $28...and it wasn't worth that price at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Electrical Parade&lt;/span&gt;-it was too crowded to even see the parade. People began lining up over an hour in advance. We were eating dinner and were late in finding a spot. We tried hoisting the boys up on our shoulders, but it really dampened the experience for us. The 2 hours of the Electrical Parade, Lightshow, and Fireworks were literally some of the worst 2 hours of our life. It was the single worst experience I have ever had at Disney. Way too many people crammed in to one place. We couldn't leave even if we wanted to. There was no magic memories made during this time...only nightmares that will haunt me for years to come! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Lightshow on Castle&lt;/span&gt;-this occurred almost immediately after the Electrical Parade, and again our spot was terrible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Fireworks&lt;/span&gt;-this occurred almost immediately after the lightshow, and again our spot was terrible. Apparently, you need to find your viewing spot by 7 pm in order for the 8 pm night titme festivities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) Buzz Lightyear&lt;/span&gt;-as soon as the fireworks were over, we made our way back to Tomorrowland to ride this favorite one last time. I sat this one out because I wasn't feel well, but my husband and children walked right on again, and got one last chance to ride one of their favorites before we left. This marked the 3rd time today they rode this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5512226270178558719?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5512226270178558719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5512226270178558719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5512226270178558719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5512226270178558719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/magic-kingdom-we-attended-on-day-that.html' title='Magic Kingdom Itinerary or Schedule or Touring Plan with Children (Budget Friendly)'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8601403980836819078</id><published>2011-10-16T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T12:29:37.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hollywood Studios Itinerary or schedule or Touring Plan  with Children</title><content type='html'>Hollywood Studios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://flic.kr/p/avB4t2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We went on a day that was supposed to be a a crowd level of 5.2 out of 10. I would classify it as a 7 out of 10. It was a bit more congested than I anticipated. We arrived at 8:30, which is 30 minutes earlier than the park opens, but truthfully, not early enough. By the time we reached our first ride the line was already considerably long. In hindsight, I would have liked to arrive a full hour before opening. We ate breakfast at the condo, brought a sack lunch, and we left the park by 6:15, so we were able to eat dinner at the condo to save even more $. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Here is the itinerary we followed, and the reactions of the kids and adults to each attraction. The "A" stands for the adult's response and the "C" stands for the child's response." I used a 5 star scale, with 5 being the highest rate given. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)Toy Story Mania&lt;/span&gt;-there was a mad dash for this attraction when the park first opened. The line to obtain a fast pass was probably 20 minutes, while the line to actually ride the attraction was about 25 minutes. We opted to just hop in the "ride" line. Everyone in our party LOVED this ride. When we walked by at another part in the day, the line was 80 minutes long, so it was smart to get this one out of the way first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)Tower of Terror&lt;/span&gt;-the wait was about 20 minutes. My husband and I loved this ride, however, it seriously scared our kids. The rest of the trip our threat to them for bad behavior was, "If you don't stop we are going back to Hollywood Studios and we'll make you ride Tower of Terror again." A***** C&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) The Great Movie Ride-&lt;/span&gt;There was about a 15 minute wait for this ride, but screens playing scenes from well known movies entertained us all. My husband and I thought this was mildly entertaining, the kids agreed. A** C** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Star Tours-&lt;/span&gt;the wait was less than 20 minutes. I skipped out on this ride due to potential motion sickness, but my husband and two children LOVED it. This was among one of their favorite rides of the entire trip. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Jedi Training&lt;/span&gt;-this short "show" uses 14 guests ranging from the ages of 6-14. You have to sign up to participate at the beginning of the day, and because we weren't first in line we assumed all the spots were already taken. Even though we didn't have children involved, it was still entertaining to watch. My boys loved watching the other children "train", and face Darth Vader. This was again, among one of their favorite "attractions." A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Muppet Vision 3D-&lt;/span&gt;There was a 10 minute wait for this attraction. My children enjoyed this movie, and it was entertaining for the adults as well. I think if my children were familiar with the characters, they would have liked it even more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; A**** C****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Studio Backlot&lt;/span&gt; Tour-My husband thought it was interesting, but the other 3 of us continued to use the "this is boring" phrase. I'd say "skip it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; A** C&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;8) Little Mermaid&lt;/span&gt;-we waited about 10 minutes for this attraction. I thoroughly enjoyed this, and even though it involved a "princess", my husband and two children enjoyed it. One of my boys said, "I actually liked that mom!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; A**** C***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Playhouse Disney Show-&lt;/span&gt;we waited about 15 minutes for this attraction. I thought it was going to be too elementary for my 5 year old and 7 year old, but they both were really in to it, and they ended up loving every minute of the show. It featured characters from The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Handy Manny, Little Einsteins, and Jake and the Neverland Pirates. A** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Lights, Motor, Action Stunt Show&lt;/span&gt;-we sat down and had to wait about 10 minutes for this show to begin. This 45 minute show was among one of our favorites. It kept the interest of both of my children, although I thought it was getting a bit long towards the end. A***** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Honey I Shrunk the Kids Playset&lt;/span&gt;-the crowd was not too bad, and my boys thoroughly enjoyed this play area, so much so, that they did not want to leave. We spent about 25 minutes there. A** C*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Indian Jones Show&lt;/span&gt;-We walked in just as the show was starting, and got great seats off to the left side. We all enjoyed this show, and are glad we squeezed it in at the end of our day. A**** C****&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8601403980836819078?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8601403980836819078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8601403980836819078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8601403980836819078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8601403980836819078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/hollywood-studios-httpflic.html' title='Hollywood Studios Itinerary or schedule or Touring Plan  with Children'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2195842970217597959</id><published>2011-10-07T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T21:00:53.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5Z24HAZb3I/To_JgqScVRI/AAAAAAAAB1w/2y0PWkeFj_8/s1600/040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5Z24HAZb3I/To_JgqScVRI/AAAAAAAAB1w/2y0PWkeFj_8/s320/040.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660964819572643090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were playing the "A my name is..." game in the car on the way to Life Group, and Kent you got the letter "K", and here is what you sang...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"K my name is Kent, my wife's name is Kite, we come from Killinois, and our ship we carry karateboxers." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are so funny child! With a wife named "Kite" and living in a place called "Killinois", you must have quite a life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the record..what in the world are "Karateboxers?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, you were asking me a bunch of questions about babies tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where do they come out from?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A special place in moms."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But where?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a private place."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you mean like their chests?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not quite. Boy and girls have different parts, and girl's parts are made so babies can come out of them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHAT?!?!? Boy and girls have different parts?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear...I'm thinking it might be time for a little chat. I don't know how much information to give you at this age...I don't mind you knowing where babies come from...I'm just not ready for you to know how that got there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2195842970217597959?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2195842970217597959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2195842970217597959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2195842970217597959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2195842970217597959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/we-were-playing-a-my-name-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5Z24HAZb3I/To_JgqScVRI/AAAAAAAAB1w/2y0PWkeFj_8/s72-c/040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5986833969199245348</id><published>2011-10-06T07:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T07:17:53.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z-4DV_6FCD8/To24iaqliJI/AAAAAAAAB1o/DfZXp-yPg0o/s1600/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z-4DV_6FCD8/To24iaqliJI/AAAAAAAAB1o/DfZXp-yPg0o/s320/048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660383208087586962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gotta brag on you son. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it is your day tomorrow in school to be the "helper" for class. You get to write the date on the board, take the lunch cart to the cafeteria, and assist your teacher in other ways. One of the responsibilities of the helper is to choose on of the other classmates to assist you. I asked you who you were going to choose to be your assistant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who are you going to have be your assistant? Trenton? Carson? Ethan?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. I think I'm going to pick someone who would never be chosen if I didn't chose them. I want to pick someone who is always left out. I think I'm gonna pick *Julie* (I changed her name) cause she doesn't really have a lot of friends, and no one is ever gonna pick her."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This single act of kindness makes me more proud to be your mom than if you scored 75 goals in a game, or aced every one of your spelling tests from here to eternity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5986833969199245348?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5986833969199245348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5986833969199245348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5986833969199245348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5986833969199245348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/parker-gotta-brag-on-you-son.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z-4DV_6FCD8/To24iaqliJI/AAAAAAAAB1o/DfZXp-yPg0o/s72-c/048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-533543479039068769</id><published>2011-10-05T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T07:39:23.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lYktIsdmjTY/Toxr1XU3XwI/AAAAAAAAB1g/-FLnCw5iENc/s1600/kentbible.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lYktIsdmjTY/Toxr1XU3XwI/AAAAAAAAB1g/-FLnCw5iENc/s320/kentbible.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660017396236640002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are always wanted to go to bed reading your Bible. Even though you don't actually read the words, you love to flip through the pages one by one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that when you can read, the words take root in your soul, and that the Holy Spirit seals them in your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray your love for God's Word flourishes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-533543479039068769?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/533543479039068769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=533543479039068769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/533543479039068769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/533543479039068769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/kenters-you-are-always-wanted-to-go-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lYktIsdmjTY/Toxr1XU3XwI/AAAAAAAAB1g/-FLnCw5iENc/s72-c/kentbible.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2101914897843730330</id><published>2011-10-04T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T20:18:35.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love love love to come in your room at night while you are sleeping, and kiss those cheeks of yours. They feel like fresh marshmallows..so squishy and bouncy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud to be your mom. I am thankful that God chose me to shape you and to walk this life's journey with you. I feel honored, I feel humbled, and I feel grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, we had a great time with Mimi and Pop Pop this past weekend. They took you to see Lion King 3D, they watched 3 of Parker's soccer games, and they spent quality time with you Kenters. You thoroughly enjoyed having them here, and very disappointed when they left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss them so much, but I know they live where they live and we live where we live because that's what God has orchestrated. It gives me great comfort to know that we each in God's perfect plan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2101914897843730330?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2101914897843730330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2101914897843730330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2101914897843730330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2101914897843730330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-love-love-love-to-come-in-your-room.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7610181589546119077</id><published>2011-09-29T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T10:29:39.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNgoI_Dtx6Q/ToSqLl0y4JI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/XoufowFMUR8/s1600/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNgoI_Dtx6Q/ToSqLl0y4JI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/XoufowFMUR8/s320/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657834147993018514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are so kissable! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home from church yesterday I asked what you did in Rangers, and you told me you played kickball. I asked if you got some really good kicks, and you said, "No. Not really. I'm not very good at kicking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told you that today when you got home from school we would have kickball practice in the backyard. I know it's minor, and kickball really isn't the issue, but I do want to instill in your the knowledge that if you want to improve at something then you have to be willing to put forth an effort and invest in success. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WKu7P4xJ9-M/ToSq2Sf-_uI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/7r8ARoXV0vA/s1600/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WKu7P4xJ9-M/ToSq2Sf-_uI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/7r8ARoXV0vA/s320/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657834881539833570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, my dear, are such a competitor. When you are taking a break from a soccer game and you are on the sidelines, you do not SIT on the sidelines like the other players. You stand next to the coach, and you cheer and spur your team on. It's not in you to sit still and spectate. You have to be in on every play, and even though you are supposed to be taking a breather, you never take your head or heart out of a game. I love that about you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7610181589546119077?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7610181589546119077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7610181589546119077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7610181589546119077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7610181589546119077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/kenters-you-are-so-kissable-on-way-home.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lNgoI_Dtx6Q/ToSqLl0y4JI/AAAAAAAAB1Q/XoufowFMUR8/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8256149075338855425</id><published>2011-09-26T18:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T18:17:49.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>169 of 365</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/6187387210/" title="169 of 365"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6162/6187387210_a5208a58a6.jpg" alt="169 of 365 by erikscottberg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/6187387210/"&gt;169 of 365&lt;/a&gt;, a photo by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/"&gt;erikscottberg&lt;/a&gt; on Flickr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here is a quick pic Daddy snapped while the three of you were out messing around today. AHHH. You're so cute I can't stand it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8256149075338855425?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8256149075338855425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8256149075338855425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8256149075338855425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8256149075338855425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/169-of-365.html' title='169 of 365'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6162/6187387210_a5208a58a6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-491918220210549600</id><published>2011-09-26T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T11:17:56.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boys, we are busy. I love you. We are busy. You are handsome. We are busy. You are so humorous. We are busy. You bring so much joy to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No posting for a while...why? That's right....We are toooooooooooooo busy. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-491918220210549600?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/491918220210549600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=491918220210549600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/491918220210549600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/491918220210549600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/boys-we-are-busy.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8509106439541802994</id><published>2011-09-24T13:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T13:12:28.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Proud of you Parkerman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day at your Bethalto soccer practice you heard some of the boys making fun of a girl on your team...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Guys, stop making fun of her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why should we?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because, it's not being a good Christian."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's a Christian?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's someone who loves God and follows God, and if you love God than you are not mean to people."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ohhhhhhh" said the boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preach it Parker! If I had a white hanky I'd wave it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried explaining to you that not everyone is going to be a Christian, but I'm proud that you stuck up for what is right, and came to the defense of someone else. Atta Boy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8509106439541802994?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8509106439541802994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8509106439541802994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8509106439541802994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8509106439541802994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/proud-of-you-parkerman.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7303143285344679096</id><published>2011-09-23T07:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T07:46:49.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope one day you'll understand that all discipline is done in love. In fact, Dad and I punish you because we love you. We have to teach you that actions have consequence, that submission to authority is imperative, and that taking ownership of your behaviors is crucial. If we didn't love you, we wouldn't pay any attention when you make bad choices, and thus your behavior would spiral out of control. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scripture tells us that God disciplines those he loves. Growing up, I made some poor choices, and Mimi and Pop Pop had to punish me on several occasions. I admit, my immediate response to instruction was not "Oh my parents love me so much, I'm giddy!" But, as time went on, I began to realize that I was able to handle conflict, I was able to stop and think before acting, and I was able to respect those in authority over me. That is all because Mimi and Pop Pop taught me how to do that, and they did that because they loved me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that you will never believe the lies of the enemy that tell you that discipline is done out of spite. I pray that you have contrite hearts, and teachable spirits. I pray that your pride will not inhibit correction, and that you will realize that we love you, and we care about your relationship with God and with others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7303143285344679096?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7303143285344679096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7303143285344679096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7303143285344679096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7303143285344679096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/boys-i-hope-one-day-youll-understand.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1125479681098953509</id><published>2011-09-22T06:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T06:07:13.664-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zVjsX7TS9Qw/Tnsy5xOhAkI/AAAAAAAAB1I/7K4VsL4JNTA/s1600/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zVjsX7TS9Qw/Tnsy5xOhAkI/AAAAAAAAB1I/7K4VsL4JNTA/s320/028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655169725141942850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mrs. Scottberg, this is Principal Hanniford from East."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um...yes, how can I help you"? My voice cracking a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm calling to tell you that last week Kent got turned in to the office...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG Pause&lt;br /&gt;Heart beating&lt;br /&gt;Palms sweating&lt;br /&gt;Knees shaking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;".....for being good. His teacher wanted to award him for being kind and for behaving so well." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLLLLLLAAAA!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of you Kenters. Not gonna lie; we had a rough summer with behavior and choice making, so I am overjoyed to see how well you are behaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I initially was hesitant to send you to school this year, because you are a young 5 year old and I wasn't sure you ready. But when it came down to it, I decided to send you, after much prayer and conversing with Daddy. It is apparent that you are more than ready to learn and interact. You have surpassed any expectation that I've had for you, and I am soooo glad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in the process of thinking of what reward you should get. We've gotta celebrate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1125479681098953509?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1125479681098953509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1125479681098953509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1125479681098953509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1125479681098953509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/mrs.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zVjsX7TS9Qw/Tnsy5xOhAkI/AAAAAAAAB1I/7K4VsL4JNTA/s72-c/028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8875475569597626035</id><published>2011-09-20T06:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T09:22:27.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So many things I read today in my Bible are impacting my heart. Scripture truly is the Word of God, and it actually penetrates hearts and minds, and leads us to repentance and change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here a few verses that stuck out to me today from Proverbs 20: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v1 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Whoever is led away by drink cannot be wise."&lt;/span&gt; This is why I chose to abstain from alcohol...even a little has the potential to damage my heart and my witness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v3 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Avoiding a fight is a mark of honor"&lt;/span&gt; It shows strength when you can walk away instead of engage in conflict. Pride says you have to have the last word, but integrity says you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v6 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Many will say they are loyal friends, but who can find one who is really faithful?"&lt;/span&gt; When it comes down to it, Jesus is the only dependable and loyal friend we will know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v7 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"The godly walk with integrity; blessed are their children after them."&lt;/span&gt; My life has been blessed because Mimi and Pop Pop walked with Jesus, and I hope that you have the same testimony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v13 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"If you love to sleep, you will end in poverty"&lt;/span&gt; Laziness will leave you with nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v17 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Stolen bread taste sweet, but it turns to gravel in the mouth".&lt;/span&gt; If you steal, or obtain something dishonestly, the "reward" will be short lived, and the consequence will be eternal and bitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v18 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Plans succeed through good counsel. Don't go to war without the advice of others.&lt;/span&gt;" A good leader isn't someone who makes decisions on their own. A good leader knows who to surround themselves with and is humble enough to take and seek advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v 19 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"A gossip tells secrets, so don't hang around someone who talks too much."&lt;/span&gt; I have literally lost friendships because I have seen "loose lips" in someone, and I stop investing in that relationship. I'd rather have no friends, than friends who I can't trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v 20 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"If you curse your father and mother, the lamp of your life will be snuffed out."&lt;/span&gt; Respecting and submitting to your parents is almost a guarantee for a prosperous life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v 22 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Don't say,'I will get even for this wrong', instead, wait for the Lord to handle the matter."&lt;/span&gt; Don't seek revenge or justice for a wrong done to you. Let the Lord make the situation right, for He is just, wise, and more powerful than we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v 27 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"The Lord's searchlight penetrates the human spirit, exposing every hidden motive."&lt;/span&gt; This passage scares me, and convicts me, if I am to be honest. I may be able to pull the wool over everyone's eyes, but all my heart and motives lay bare before the Lord. When I read this, I sighed out loud and then asked God to make my heart pure so that when his "searchlight" is upon me, He sees pure motives and a clean heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;v 30 &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Physical punishment cleanses away evil; such discipline purifies the heart."&lt;/span&gt; I don't see this as justification for abuse, but rather a reminder that consequence can soften our hearts, and make them moldable and teachable, and more susceptible to correction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a simple way to read God's word, and proof that it speaks. Life is crazy busy, and there are 1,ooo good things that vie for our attention. But only one GREAT thing has the ability to satisfy my soul and lead me to all Truth, and that is the Word of God. I need to make more time to invest in to hearing God speak to me through his written word, and my prayer is that you realize that "the grass withers and the flowers fade, but the Word of the Lord will last forever." Really, Jesus and His Word are all we can depend on in this life. So read it, love it, live it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8875475569597626035?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8875475569597626035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8875475569597626035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8875475569597626035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8875475569597626035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/so-many-things-i-read-today-in-my-bible.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-994246422377267580</id><published>2011-09-19T07:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T20:27:10.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qo4h0koXXGw/TnafcQ0dO2I/AAAAAAAAB1A/E3MXZv1Ay3k/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qo4h0koXXGw/TnafcQ0dO2I/AAAAAAAAB1A/E3MXZv1Ay3k/s320/005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653881690110376802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put you to bed early yesterday because you had a long and full weekend, but an hour later you were still awake. Daddy came in to check on you when he got home from church, and he found you working on something. You were writing a song, and here it is. Now, how am I supposed to get angry at you when you are up writing songs about God? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed til I cried when I read this...but because it's so cute and heart warming. I'm glad you recognize the distinction between good and evil, and I'm overjoyed that you know that God is good and that He is worthy to be served.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Song: God is God!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is God&lt;br /&gt;He is God.&lt;br /&gt;He is from heaven&lt;br /&gt;and his name is God, God, God.&lt;br /&gt;he saves you&lt;br /&gt;but he doesn't help satan. &lt;br /&gt;yeah. yeah. yeah.&lt;br /&gt;He helps all around the world&lt;br /&gt;but not satan.&lt;br /&gt;You're right. You're right.&lt;br /&gt;uh-huh&lt;br /&gt;never believe in satan.&lt;br /&gt;Just believe in God, God God, God, God.&lt;br /&gt;Because he is the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song: by Parker Scottberg&lt;br /&gt;To: My family&lt;br /&gt;Made by: Parker Scottberg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I think it's important (and hilariously funny) to note that in all of the "a's" in "satan" you put sad faces. Also, you asked if Daddy could use his guitar to make music for this song. Keep up the good work!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-994246422377267580?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/994246422377267580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=994246422377267580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/994246422377267580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/994246422377267580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/parker-i-put-you-to-bed-early-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qo4h0koXXGw/TnafcQ0dO2I/AAAAAAAAB1A/E3MXZv1Ay3k/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5338689756980819979</id><published>2011-09-18T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T15:41:17.195-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zNO3kmStvrY/TnZzO4gE6iI/AAAAAAAAB04/_6HlJpAzz3I/s1600/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zNO3kmStvrY/TnZzO4gE6iI/AAAAAAAAB04/_6HlJpAzz3I/s320/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653833081732524578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(this pic has nothing to do with the post, but I forgot to put it on here earlier...it's Parker leading Kent off the bus on the first day of school..holding his hand like a good big brother)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today I showered you with love and attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, you sat with me and watched your favorite show, "Wipeout". During the course of the show I taught you how to flick with your thumb and pointer finger and smell your own feet...you know, all things little boys should know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During dinner you were eating your standard favorite, a hot dog with no bun and extra ketchup, and you asked, "Mom, do hot-dogs really come from dogs?" When I told you they come from pigs, it just seemed to confuse you, so we agreed to settle that hot-dogs come from stores. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, we were doing homework for school tomorrow, and I could tell you were getting very frustrated with the time consuming project, and your interest was rapidly declining. I think in the past I would have made you sit there and suffer through the ordeal, but instead I suggested that you take a break and go play, and then return in 10 minutes to complete the project. It surprisingly worked like a charm. Little by little I am learning how to manage your personality, and how to set you up for success. Moms have a learning curve too, and I'm thankful that you are patient with me as I try to figure out how best to teach you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you my blonde, shaggy haired munchkin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5338689756980819979?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5338689756980819979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5338689756980819979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5338689756980819979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5338689756980819979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-pic-has-nothing-to-do-with-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zNO3kmStvrY/TnZzO4gE6iI/AAAAAAAAB04/_6HlJpAzz3I/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2185817412548627366</id><published>2011-09-14T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T08:29:25.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are still so lovey and cuddly. You say, "I love you mostest" to me when I drop you off at school. After I've volunteered working with computers in your classroom, you always come over and give me a big sloppy kiss on the lips; you could care less that you whole class is watching. I love that about you. Please don't ever change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You squeezes around the neck, your often sticky kisses, and your unsolicited "I love You", is literally what brings sunshine to my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MWHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2185817412548627366?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2185817412548627366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2185817412548627366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2185817412548627366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2185817412548627366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/kenters-you-are-still-so-lovey-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7789745816037457794</id><published>2011-09-11T18:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T19:43:04.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5i-pD_6yCU0/Tm1xsEi-MbI/AAAAAAAAB0w/Kerj9QAVYlE/s1600/september%2B11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 148px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5i-pD_6yCU0/Tm1xsEi-MbI/AAAAAAAAB0w/Kerj9QAVYlE/s320/september%2B11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651298109368447410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we went to church this morning I sat with you two on the couch and explained to you what happened on this day 10 years ago. I was afraid someone might say something at church to you, and I didn't want you to be afraid. Instead of focusing on the "bad guys", we highlighted all the "good guys". We talked about the bravery and courage of the men and woman who ran to help all those in trouble. We talked about the "good guys" on the plane who sacrificed their lives in order to save others. When we focus on the "good guys" it takes away all the power of the enemy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this afternoon we went to the Bethalto Memorial Parade, and we stood out of respect and honor as the "good guys" came by. You waved your flags passionately as the fire trucks and police cars paraded by with their sirens on full blast. They waved back at you, tossed candy to you, and one even took the time to point directly at you, Parker. It was enough to fill this mom's eyes with tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heroes focus on the power of freedom, and not the threat of fear. Today we celebrated the "good guys", and I think that you giving respect and honor to our fireman and policeman, and military gives you something to aim for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7789745816037457794?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7789745816037457794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7789745816037457794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7789745816037457794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7789745816037457794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/before-we-went-to-church-this-morning-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5i-pD_6yCU0/Tm1xsEi-MbI/AAAAAAAAB0w/Kerj9QAVYlE/s72-c/september%2B11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6885202098879395681</id><published>2011-09-11T04:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T18:14:05.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Seriously. I'm crazy. I think I am way too uptight and it is something I need to work on BIG time. The Lord is really dealing with me in this area, and I want to express my weakness to you, so that you know that I know and that God and I are working on it. I'm asking for both grace and forgiveness as I learn how to relax and surrender all things to our good Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a recent instance of where my anxiety as a mom got the best of me. Parker, you had baseball tryouts yesterday for a select team. For the last two weeks we've been in the backyard practicing all aspects of the game. I knew your hitting needed some attention, so we dedicated a lot of time to that portion. Yesterday during the tryout you did a fantastic job in your fielding, throwing, and base running...the hitting was more challenging for you. Your swing is perfectly level, and all of your  mechanics are precise, but making contact was hard. This was the first time you faced a pitching machine, and it was fast, if I do say so. On the way home from the tryout you were a little disappointed in yourself for the batting performance, but I encouraged you that if you didn't make the select team, you could still play for park district, and that we would certainly be working on batting. After a while at home, you seemed in better spirits and went off to play some Guitar Hero on the Playstation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now after some initial disappointment you were able to move on from the day's events, but I wasn't. I obsessed about it all day, and even through the night. I am scared for you and concerned for you if you don't make the team. You feel things so deeply, and you try so hard, and I am afraid of how you will react if you don't make it. Then I got upset with myself for subjecting you and exposing you to such pressure at the age of 7.5. years old.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even have this much anxiety when I tried out for sports teams! I have to trust that God will give you strength to handle whatever comes your way, and that we will be able to use each experience as a catapult for learning to handle life and for shaping your character. I have to trust that you are resilient...you're not made of glass, and you've proven that to me time and time again. Then the practical side of me kicks it in to high gear (and that portion of my mind sounds suspiciously like Daddy), and I hear, "He 's only 7. If he doesn't make the team it isn't going to ruin his life."  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;This really has nothing to do with baseball&lt;/span&gt;...this has to do with me not wanting someone that I love to experience any pain. I realize that I cannot shelter you from all of life's hurts and disappointments (and somewhere along the way I've gotten the false idea that this is my job), but I can help equip you to handle them, and that is what I pray that God helps me to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the moral of this story is, I worry enough for the both of us. I carry your burdens, but instead of letting them cripple me and cause anxiety, I need to hand them over to the Lord to carry instead. You are loved, you are supported, you are adored, by me, your dad, your brother, your grandparents, your cousins, your aunts and uncles, your teachers, and most importantly your Savior and Creator. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you learn how to be a godly man able to withstand life's ups and downs, I at the same time, am learning how to be a godly mom who casts all worries on Christ because He cares for the both of us. (1 Peter 5:7).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6885202098879395681?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6885202098879395681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6885202098879395681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6885202098879395681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6885202098879395681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/seriously.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8330605651404577263</id><published>2011-09-10T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T06:29:06.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night at dinner we were talking about who Mommy and Daddy liked when we were in elementary school, Jr. high, and High school, and college. We turned the conversation towards the two of you and who you liked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, you were talking about a girl named "M" in your class who you think is NICE, but not PRETTY...as you have made clear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said that three boys in your class like M, and they also try to talk to her. Last week, your teacher moved your seats around and you now sit next to M. I said, "Well, you are the cutest 2nd grader in the whole entire universe, so I'm sure M likes sitting next to you." You just got all embarrassed and flustered about the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters, you were listening in on our conversation and you interjected,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I'm really cute, but no girls chase me on the playground." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you seemed a bit annoyed about that. So I told you to just go up to the girls and say, "Wanna chase me?" Since you're not dating until you're 25 we've got a few years to develop your game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I love you boys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8330605651404577263?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8330605651404577263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8330605651404577263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8330605651404577263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8330605651404577263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/boys-last-night-at-dinner-we-were.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3125903596601061018</id><published>2011-09-07T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T09:24:18.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We are busy bees. Soccer is starting in full swing here in a week or two...Parker you are on a select team called GlenEd Thunder, as well as a Bethalto park district team called the Celtics. Kent, you will be playing for Bethalto as well, although we are still waiting to see what your team name is going to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up playing softball, but I gotta tell ya, soccer can be extremely exciting too! I love watching you two play, because your personalities come out in full force.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also started volunteering in both of your classrooms on Tuesdays. I got to Parker's room first and assist the teacher with Centers, and then Kent, I come to your class to help with computers. I love seeing you in you school environments, and you both love when I come in (at least that's what you tell me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've got so much planned for the month of September..we are literally packed! Then in October, we are surprising you with a trip to Disney World. We have been very blessed by various family members, so that our only expense will be a few meals, and our gas for the trip down there (yes-we're driving..I know, we're nuts.) We aren't going to tell you that we are going until the day of, and I already have a scavenger hunt with clues mapped out for you both in order to decode the message that "WE are going to Disney World!". I've been secretly planning, and I've had to hide all of my materials from you. I can't wait to tell you, I can't wait for your reaction, and I can't wait to GO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you boys..here's to a fun filled September, and an exciting October!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3125903596601061018?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3125903596601061018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3125903596601061018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3125903596601061018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3125903596601061018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/we-are-busy-bees.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2713277008981166706</id><published>2011-09-02T15:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T15:21:28.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;Kenters...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a Rainbow graduate, and it's on to Rangers you go! You have had  fabulous teachers for the last 1.5 here, and we will Miss Laurie and Miss Tarah, but I am so proud of you. You dont want to wear your vest, you want to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;display&lt;/span&gt; it for all to see. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RSDf1zi_iEY/TmFWmPZqRqI/AAAAAAAAB0g/Smc3fxf-KG4/s1600/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RSDf1zi_iEY/TmFWmPZqRqI/AAAAAAAAB0g/Smc3fxf-KG4/s320/011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647890622668490402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thrilled with your accomplishemnt....as are you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also stated to participate in the reading initiative for school. You like the thrill of finishing a task, but you aren't all that excited while the project is in progress. What I mean is...reading isn't your favorite, but the cookie that I give you when you're done is worth it to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've also completed two weeks of GREEN behavior in school, and that's worth a big loud "Hip Hip Horray!!" You are growing up too fast for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get yourself dressed each morning, you make your bed, you brush your teeth, you sit down for breakfast, your problem solving skills are evolving, and you are really learning to work through frustrating moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so incredibly blessed to be your mom, and I am so proud of all of your hard work. You've got all the makings of being a star :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2713277008981166706?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2713277008981166706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2713277008981166706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2713277008981166706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2713277008981166706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/09/kenters.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RSDf1zi_iEY/TmFWmPZqRqI/AAAAAAAAB0g/Smc3fxf-KG4/s72-c/011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8823702113726038492</id><published>2011-08-31T07:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T07:17:09.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parker, usually when you have soccer practice in Edwardsville, I bring a chair and a book, and I sit and read while you play. But, the other day I told you I was going to drop you off at practice and run to a few nearby stores. And by "nearby" I literally mean that the soccer fields and stores share a parking lot. I was not going to be far, and besides, 90 % of the other parents do not stay for the practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, you can't just leave me at practice.:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;leaving &lt;/span&gt;you. I'm dropping you off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if I get stolen?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No one is going to steal you. You have 20 kids and 4 coaches...I'm sure you will all be safe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But what if I get hurt?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Coach has my number, and he can call me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if I'm thirsty, and I can't find my water bottle?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I will set up my lawn chair and put your water bottle in it, so it doesn't get lost in the grass."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well..well..welll...what if I make a really good play and you're not here to see it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhahh! That was the heart of the issue. You didn't want me to miss you doing something good. Whenever you make a play, or score a goal, you always look for me on the sidelines and give me a little smile. You love to share your accomplishments with us, and you don't want to miss an opportunity to be praised. Well now, how could I say "no" to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed "Gone With the Wind", and sat on my chair and supported you through your practice. I love that you still need me and want me there...I hope that lasts a while. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8823702113726038492?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8823702113726038492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8823702113726038492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8823702113726038492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8823702113726038492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/parker-usually-when-you-have-soccer.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1108310177473278368</id><published>2011-08-30T08:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T08:05:43.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>230 of 365</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/6057361379/" title="230 of 365"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6084/6057361379_d034db5f86.jpg" alt="230 of 365 by erikscottberg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/6057361379/"&gt;230 of 365&lt;/a&gt;, a photo by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/"&gt;erikscottberg&lt;/a&gt; on Flickr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most nights Daddy comes in your room and reads a book. Last year he read "The Hobbit" to you, and now you are working your way through "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe". After you are all tucked in your beds, you turn on the closet light and Daddy gets out his flashlight and begins reading. I love eavesdropping at the end of the hallway while Daddy uses different voices to portray characters, and while the two of you ask question after question. You are blessed to have Daddy as such a positive influence in your life. You need to identify with your dad, and to see what a godly man is supposed to look like. You two can be very attached to me, so it's healthy when I step back in order for you foster your relationship with your dad. Not gonna lie..I can be a bit controlling, and it's hard for me to be part of an activity without wanting to run it, so it's good that I sit out during this time. It's male bonding time. You three go in to world of make-believe, wars, fantasy, and fiction, and I'm happy to see my three men interacting and enjoying one another's company. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1108310177473278368?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1108310177473278368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1108310177473278368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1108310177473278368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1108310177473278368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/230-of-365.html' title='230 of 365'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6084/6057361379_d034db5f86_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5913153486106903459</id><published>2011-08-29T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T11:01:52.656-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Call You Faithful - Donnie McClurkin lyrics</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="295" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/5VMAdu-HKQ8?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't get this song out of my head. I want to shout praises to the King of Kings and Lord of Lord. He is the beginning and the end. He is the Everlasting Father. He is the Prince of Peace. He is my father. He is my friend. He is my savior. He is my Lord. He is perfect. He is blameless. He is matchless. He is worthy of all my praise, of all my service, and of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talk to Pop Pop and I want to fall on my knees before the Lord. Then I want to get on my feet and jump around in pure praise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the song we sand on Easter at Calvary in Naperville...one week after finding out about Pop Pop's inoperable brain tumor. I've blogged about it before, but after talking with Pop Pop today and planning his trip down here, my heart is overflowing. I never thought he'd visit us here again. But God had other plans. So again, my heart began to sing this song that the Lord gave us at the beginning of this life changing journey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a perfectly timed anthem for our family! We have depended on these characteristics of God sung about in this song, and He has proven himself to be reliable! Amen and Amen!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He truly is HOLY&lt;br /&gt;He truly is RIGHTEOUS&lt;br /&gt;He truly is AWESOME&lt;br /&gt;He truly is FAITHFUL&lt;br /&gt;HE TRULY IS HEALER&lt;br /&gt;He truly is Savior&lt;br /&gt;He truly is All that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5913153486106903459?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5913153486106903459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5913153486106903459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5913153486106903459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5913153486106903459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-call-you-faithful-donnie-mcclurkin.html' title='I Call You Faithful - Donnie McClurkin lyrics'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/5VMAdu-HKQ8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2390379016033792603</id><published>2011-08-28T19:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T19:25:13.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters...you are a people person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, when I"m alone I get really lonely".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except, it sounds like this, "Mom, when I'm awone, I get whelly wonley"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. There hasn't been a cuter 5 year old on the face of this planet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2390379016033792603?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2390379016033792603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2390379016033792603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2390379016033792603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2390379016033792603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/kenters.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1045080841103410018</id><published>2011-08-27T07:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T07:23:08.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEhFc_HqydE/Tlj9w9QDatI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/1aU8Fle9phk/s1600/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEhFc_HqydE/Tlj9w9QDatI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/1aU8Fle9phk/s320/005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645541150426360530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, and I mean absolutely NOTHING, in this entire world makes my heart as happy as it is when you two say "I love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I drop you off at school and you are unfastening your seat belts, I say, "Jesus be with you today", and then as you open the door to get out of the car I say, "I love you boy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, before you close the car door, you take a moment to look at me and say, "Well, I love you the mostest!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That simple phrase makes my day. You both say it; it is our routine. And if you ever outgrow that stage, I think I will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1045080841103410018?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1045080841103410018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1045080841103410018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1045080841103410018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1045080841103410018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/nothing-and-i-mean-absolutely-nothing.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xEhFc_HqydE/Tlj9w9QDatI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/1aU8Fle9phk/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1990096477069593261</id><published>2011-08-26T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T05:44:13.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3TL36crv1TU/TleVDV21VQI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/kaeBkRhDEUk/s1600/IMG_2343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3TL36crv1TU/TleVDV21VQI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/kaeBkRhDEUk/s320/IMG_2343.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645144542571484418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are so precious. We have our best talks on the way home from soccer practice, and last night was no exception. You just blurted out how you were having trouble finding a friend in your class. In Kindergarten you had a several really good friends, in first grade you had a group of good friends, but this year you seem to be having a bit more difficulty. Now, I kept reminding you that you are only 9 days in to the year, but you said you tried being friends with some boys, and they didn't reciprocate. You were feeling pretty sad and disappointed, and a bit rejected. This is your first experience with feeling left out, so this is new territory for you. When we got home we talked to Daddy about it, and we encouraged you to have patience, and to not give up. We assured you that everyone was still getting to know each other, and that you would find a pal soon enough. We reviewed all the good qualities you have and helped you to see that anyone would be blessed to have you as a friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as your mom, I wish I could take every ounce of pain that you feel, and feel it for you instead. But after talking to Auntie Shar Shar and Auntie Denise and Mimi, I have realized that these experiences can help shape and mold you in to a man of God. HE can use this pain to teach you and to train you. You know what it is like to be left out, so my prayer is that you would be aware of those who are outcasts, and you'd do your best to include them. You have experienced a period of loneliness, and my prayer is that you realize that you are never alone, for Jesus is with you always. You have experienced sadness, and my prayer is that you see that you can always go to Jesus and He can give you peace during trials. This experience can be a learning catalyst, and we will embrace it as such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you were asleep, I crawled up in your bunk, laid my hands on you, and prayed over you. I prayed that Jesus would be real to you, and that he'd help you have a heart and spirit that is resilient, patient, and flexible. I prayed for the Lord to help you have confidence that comes from knowing that you are God's child, and that He has made you wonderfully, and that He has given you talents and abilities. I prayed for you to find a friend in your class that sharpens you as iron sharpens iron. I prayed for you to be a friend to someone in need. I prayed for you to find security in Christ. I prayed for God to give me wisdom on how to help you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I want to crumble under the weight of parenting. I am so thankful that God is your first parent, and I'm just his helper. Thank goodness! His love for you is perfect, His plans for you are perfect, He knows you better than I do, He will never leave or forsake you, and He will never fail you. He knows what to say to you when you need it, He knows how to give you perfect peace when you need it, He knows how to take painful experiences and turn them in to triumphs, He knows how to make you strong.....He created you, He formed you, He gave you your personality traits, He designed your social tendencies, He manufactured your make-up...He knows how to redeem and restore your brokenness...He is the perfect parent, and the most adequate and capable Father there ever was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when my heart is breaking because yours is breaking, and I feel helpless as a result, I remind myself that your perfect parent sits on the throne in perfect power, and He is at work in you and for you, and He will orchestrate all things so that they come together for your good (Romans 8). And that gives this anxious mom peace that passes all understanding. You are in good hands my child....God's.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1990096477069593261?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1990096477069593261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1990096477069593261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1990096477069593261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1990096477069593261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/parker-you-are-so-precious.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3TL36crv1TU/TleVDV21VQI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/kaeBkRhDEUk/s72-c/IMG_2343.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-395365422679816221</id><published>2011-08-25T05:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T05:49:58.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJEa_SmfKvQ/TlZEq08Z7uI/AAAAAAAAB0I/UoI603UcrAU/s1600/061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJEa_SmfKvQ/TlZEq08Z7uI/AAAAAAAAB0I/UoI603UcrAU/s320/061.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644774685512691426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you took my camera and photographed yourself...it was upside inadvertently, which makes this pic all the more precious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters, last night you came home from church with the biggest pout on your cute little face. As soon as I spoke, you managed to blurt out the problem, "T said he's not my best friend anymore and T said I can never go to his house or his birthday party." You and your best buddy apparently got in to an argument while playing an imaginary game of "Mario Basketball". Regardless of the specifics of the disagreement, you were distraught. I picked you up and you put your head on my shoulders and just moaned for a bit. I had hosted an evening for the college/career friends from church, so I tried cheering you up with one of the many desserts leftover from the evening, but it didn't work. You were just so devastated that the situation with your best friend didn't end on a good note. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little encounter really helped me see two things in you that maybe I've overlooked before. First, you are passionate about those you love. When you love someone, you LOOOOOOOVE someone. You reserve your love and loyalty for a select few, but if someone can earn your affections, you then give them 110% percent of your heart. Secondly, you really have a sensitive heart to how other's treat you. &lt;br /&gt;I figured your had pretty thick skin, seeing as how you tend to be aggressive with your words and actions, but deep down, I think your core is soft and tender. Boy, do I love you for that little man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assured you that you and T would be fine, and that all friendships have their ups and downs. That you guys would forgive each other and be pals again the next time you saw one another. I'm sure of it. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-395365422679816221?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/395365422679816221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=395365422679816221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/395365422679816221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/395365422679816221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/you-took-my-camera-and-photographed.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJEa_SmfKvQ/TlZEq08Z7uI/AAAAAAAAB0I/UoI603UcrAU/s72-c/061.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7377290702519259003</id><published>2011-08-23T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T05:38:34.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZ4PeMlvsVc/TlL11b781mI/AAAAAAAAB0A/pkoJ2R4X2MI/s1600/077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZ4PeMlvsVc/TlL11b781mI/AAAAAAAAB0A/pkoJ2R4X2MI/s320/077.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643843581429732962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this on Pinterest the other day, and we made our prayer pot last week. We decorated the pot to match your Cubs room, and then we added popsicle sticks with the names of those we are going to pray for written on them. Every night we each pull out one stick, and then we hold hands and take turns praying for the person/persons we picked out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mimi and Pop Pop&lt;br /&gt;Pop Pop's Health&lt;br /&gt;Grandma Joan&lt;br /&gt;Howards (Uncle J and Auntie J)&lt;br /&gt;Sidells (Uncle Jason, Auntie Shar Shar, Blake, Reid, and Tatum)&lt;br /&gt;Scottbergs (Uncle Brian, Auntie Melissa, Kayla, Sarah, and baby)&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Rich&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Michael&lt;br /&gt;Grandma Bea&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa Paul&lt;br /&gt;Scimeca's (Nico and Gigi)&lt;br /&gt;Papa Elton&lt;br /&gt;Cornerstone Church&lt;br /&gt;Your teachers at school&lt;br /&gt;Your teachers at Cornerstone&lt;br /&gt;Kemps in Indonesia&lt;br /&gt;Wyatts in Vietnam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you pull out the stick that reads "Scimeca's" you let out a holler. Kent, you peek just so you can get the stick and pray for Nico and Gigi. Parker, you hoot and holler when you pick the Wyatts, because you love to pray for Logan and Grayson. Sometimes you trade...sometimes you want to pick more than one...sometimes you want to pick none...but all in all, it's been a great way to pray for those we love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7377290702519259003?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7377290702519259003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7377290702519259003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7377290702519259003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7377290702519259003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-saw-this-on-pinterest-other-day-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UZ4PeMlvsVc/TlL11b781mI/AAAAAAAAB0A/pkoJ2R4X2MI/s72-c/077.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5134744968989563793</id><published>2011-08-22T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T08:47:28.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KT4FcFofR9o/TlJ5c_Lu6iI/AAAAAAAABz4/PeGaKzlvIig/s1600/Beyblade-Toys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KT4FcFofR9o/TlJ5c_Lu6iI/AAAAAAAABz4/PeGaKzlvIig/s320/Beyblade-Toys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643706821952596514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You boys are really in to Beyblade toys lately. Some of your friends have brought them to our house for playdates, and now you HAVE to have them to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, you had $9 in your spending jar, and that's just enough to buy a Beylade. We also saw that Toys R Us is having a "buy one get one free" sale on Beyblades. You were ecstatic that you were going to get TWO of them for $9. All last night in church you were fidgeting, and when I asked you why you couldn't sit still, you said, "Because I can't stop thinking about that Beylade. All I can think about is Beyblades." Then when we were having dessert, you were staring off in to space, and you again reiterated your new obsession, "Mom, I am not going to be able to go to sleep, because all I want to do is dream about Beyblades." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first words out of your mouth this morning, "How many more hours until I get home from school and get my Beyblade?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we hatched a plan. I was going to pick you up at your bustop this afternoon, and take you straight out to Toys R Us in Fairview Heights to purchase your new toy. But, this morning you said, "Mom, can you go while I'm in school? I just can't wait for that Beyblade a second longer." Then you added, "Oh, and you don't have to buy Kent one with his money, because if I get one for free, I'll just give it to him." Aweee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what Beyblades are, but I do know that I will be hunting for one today, and I must buy you the one named "Pegasus", per your orders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I had girls, and you longed for ponies and princesses, instead of a toy named "Pegasus." :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5134744968989563793?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5134744968989563793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5134744968989563793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5134744968989563793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5134744968989563793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/you-boys-are-really-in-to-beyblade-toys.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KT4FcFofR9o/TlJ5c_Lu6iI/AAAAAAAABz4/PeGaKzlvIig/s72-c/Beyblade-Toys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-488778962830722772</id><published>2011-08-21T11:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T11:58:59.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1HrO6xVrQ8/Tk_ArkhZwSI/AAAAAAAABzw/jWoZiSO6TcU/s1600/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1HrO6xVrQ8/Tk_ArkhZwSI/AAAAAAAABzw/jWoZiSO6TcU/s320/015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642940712889205026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such a sweet heart you have. And your conscience is as heavy as a 2 ton whale. Yesterday you came off the bus, and I could tell by your face that something was on that sharp little mind of yours. While Kent was jumping and declaring that he got a green card for behavior, you kept uncharacteristically quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom", you whispered, "I have to talk to you about something in my room."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we walked in the house, got Kent settled, and then you and I went for a pow wow in your room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here", you said as you handed me your behavior folder. But as soon as you spoke, tears flooded those big blue eyes of yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You revealed a card that was colored green, but said "Warning" in the bottom corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is this?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I got a green for good behavior, but Mrs. Wiemers gave me a warning because I couldn't keep my hands to myself in the assembly today." Mind you, this sentence took 30 years to come out because you could barely catch your breath through your sobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What happened"? I asked as I held you on my lap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me and my friends were just being too silly."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, thank you for being honest with me. But, it's the beginning of school, and you are still trying to remember all of the rules." I felt like I had to help you see that the world wasn't over because you got reprimanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried changing the subject to lighten your mood, "Parker, how was recess and kickball today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't play. I sat at the picnic table the whole recess because I was so sad that I got in trouble."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Were you scared that I was going to yell at you? Were you scared Mrs. Wiemers was going to be mad at you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. I was just so sad with myself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BREAK MY HEART WHY DON"T YA BABE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Parker, we all make mistakes. We don't expect you to be perfect. Plus what matters most is what we do &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;after &lt;/span&gt;we've received a correction. Did you listen and stop, or did you disobey and continue? I am so proud of you that you were honest with me, and I'm sure Mrs. Wiemers knows that you are a good boy who is still remembering the rules. If you still really feel bad about it, you can write Mrs. Wiemers a letter and tell her that you are sorry, and that you will remember now to keep your hands to yourself." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, Parker, Parker...I think you were so disappointed that your teacher expressed disappointment in you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will pray for a continued sense of conviction in your heart that comes from the Holy Spirit, but I will also pray that you would not feel condemnation, because that is not from the Lord. You've expressed your sorrow, you've asked for forgiveness, and now I pray you'll experience the freedom that comes with being Christ's child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you little man. I am so thankful that you have a contrite heart! I pray that you continue this trend of tattling on yourself...it makes my job a little easier! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-488778962830722772?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/488778962830722772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=488778962830722772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/488778962830722772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/488778962830722772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/parker-such-sweet-heart-you-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1HrO6xVrQ8/Tk_ArkhZwSI/AAAAAAAABzw/jWoZiSO6TcU/s72-c/015.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-988560719105114036</id><published>2011-08-20T06:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-20T06:52:57.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wg3kw5A4Efs/Tk-5bOkR8tI/AAAAAAAABzo/aw_CHnJpTOE/s1600/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wg3kw5A4Efs/Tk-5bOkR8tI/AAAAAAAABzo/aw_CHnJpTOE/s320/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642932735536394962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So so so so so so so so proud of you Kenters!! You've had a fabulous first week of school. You've come home each day very excited about your time in Kindergarten. Not gonna lie...I've held my breath each afternoon as I've waited for you to come home and reveal your behavior card. Green means your behavior was great, Yellow means you received warnings, and Red means you've had to miss recess. You've had four days of GREEN. That's right, I said GREEEEEEEEENNN. Phew! I wanted so desperately for you to experience the victory of making good choices and having good behavior, and I am thrilled with your accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day you got off the bus after school, I felt like you grew 3 inches since I dropped you off at 8 am. You've already decided that you like crust on your sandwiches because that's what big kids do. I'm liking the positive peer pressure! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have been selected as your class' very first Star. On Monday you will get to bring a healthy snack, and share "Show and Tell." You've changed your selected item about 10 times, and I'm sure you'll be changing it until we leave for school on Monday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, just a little confession: the only things you really like to eat for lunch are a peanutbutter sandwich, or a ham sandwich. But, the other day, I found a sale on Oscar Mayer Bologna; it was $1 for 16 oz. I couldn't pass it up. So I bought it, and I've been telling you it's a new kind of ham. You love it! You've asked for "new ham with crust" every day this week. But, I have a feeling that if I called it Bologna and not ham, you wouldn't like it. So...ham it is. I promise, I'll come through with the truth in another few days or so. Do you forgive me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so proud of you and of the smooth transition you've made. I love you Kenters, and I am so thankful for you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-988560719105114036?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/988560719105114036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=988560719105114036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/988560719105114036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/988560719105114036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/so-so-so-so-so-so-so-so-proud-of-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wg3kw5A4Efs/Tk-5bOkR8tI/AAAAAAAABzo/aw_CHnJpTOE/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8357443921283084363</id><published>2011-08-19T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T06:37:56.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JsVdvmADKJc/Tk5mzqPxNRI/AAAAAAAABzg/_XVCu1C-SYs/s1600/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JsVdvmADKJc/Tk5mzqPxNRI/AAAAAAAABzg/_XVCu1C-SYs/s320/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5642560420841600274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(this is a picture of you last week..your baseball team won first place this season with only 1 loss-Go Bandits!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;your personality is being shaped day by day, and I am so blessed that I get to witness your maturity. You started 2nd grade this week, and your school also merged with another elementary school in the area. On Wednesday you came home and told me about an encounter that occurred during recess on the kickball field. You and your buddies have been playing kickball at recess since Kindergarten, so you have a set and established set of "rules" you all adhere to. For example, there are "foul balls", and "you can't pitch bouncy", and so on and so forth. Well, when two schools combined, the East kids came over with their own set of kickball rules...and this is where the rub began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, there is a really mean bully from East and he was trying to cheat the whole time at kickball. He said he got to be "all-time pitcher", and he cheats with foul balls to. And if he gets hit he says it doesn't count."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you try talking about it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes! Then when I caught a fly ball for the 3rd out, I walked off the field and the kid said, "Dude, what are you doing Smart-head! You have to throw the ball at someone for an out." I told him that if you catch the ball, that's an out. Then when I went to get the ball the next inning to be pitcher, he grabbed it from me and said only he pitches. He scratched my neck and my chest too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you can either walk away and play something else, or you can try tomorrow to set up some rules before you play. You are going to have to compromise. But, if he touches you again, you be firm and strong and tell him not to put his hands on you again. If he doesn't listen, and he pushes you or hurts you, you do what you need to do to protect yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But if I touch him back I'll get a yellow card, and be in trouble."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you get in trouble at school for defending yourself against someone who is trying to hurt you, you will not get in trouble at home for that. You have to stand up to bullies."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we took the next few minutes and practiced how to use our words. We worked on using strong words in a strong voice. You were feeling good about the situation, but when Daddy came home at 9:30 at night you were laying in bed thinking about it. Daddy came in and talked about it with you, and you felt better after that conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday morning before you left, we took some time to pray about kickball at recess. And I prayed for you every time I was in the car running around yesterday. And to my surprise you came home with a great report. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He tried to take the ball from me again, and Peyton (your buddy) came over to help me. We told him the rules, and we told him if he wanted to cheat he would have to find somewhere else to play. And he walked away and didn't play anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this seems minor, but it's significant because you are learning to defend yourself. One of the qualities of a godly man is one who defends and protects his wife and family, and this little instance has helped shape you into that kind of warrior. Now, Daddy and I did talk to you about forgiveness, compromise, flexibility, and kindness. Daddy reminded you that Jesus tells us to love our enemies, and to pray for those who are mean to us. I even encouraged you to find the boy and see if he wanted to give kickball another try, although you weren't too keen on that idea. I am happy that you are setting boundaries in your life, and I am happy that you are open enough to speak up when someone is hurting you. You are turning out to be quite the young man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8357443921283084363?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8357443921283084363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8357443921283084363' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8357443921283084363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8357443921283084363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/parker-your-personality-is-being-shaped.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JsVdvmADKJc/Tk5mzqPxNRI/AAAAAAAABzg/_XVCu1C-SYs/s72-c/007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3093181964795700748</id><published>2011-08-15T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T18:07:45.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;I've been inspired to begin to memorize Scripture with the two of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked the easiest first, and one that I think is the mos appropriate as you head out of our nest and into your new adventures in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Kent's version of our new memory verse, "I will never leave you or forsathe you" Joshua 1:5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Parker's version of our new memory verse, "I will never leave you or forsake you" Johnathan 1:5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had some extra popsicle sticks so we wrote the reference on the stick, and we glued the verse to the top. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-enwIWt9r8yo/TknCtEn4OkI/AAAAAAAABzY/GLEv81qF5LA/s1600/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-enwIWt9r8yo/TknCtEn4OkI/AAAAAAAABzY/GLEv81qF5LA/s320/027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641254087849163330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll review it each morning at breakfast, and hopefully with repetition, and some assistance from the Holy Spirit himself, we can hide the Word of God in your heart. We'll begin a new one each week until we have the first 10 completed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3093181964795700748?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3093181964795700748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3093181964795700748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3093181964795700748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3093181964795700748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/ive-been-inspired-to-begin-to-memorize.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-enwIWt9r8yo/TknCtEn4OkI/AAAAAAAABzY/GLEv81qF5LA/s72-c/027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8987187603037856726</id><published>2011-08-14T19:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T19:37:32.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>222 of 365</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/6037053999/" title="222 of 365"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6122/6037053999_305f8de140.jpg" alt="222 of 365 by erikscottberg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/6037053999/"&gt;222 of 365&lt;/a&gt;, a photo by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/"&gt;erikscottberg&lt;/a&gt; on Flickr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear...I feel a very sappy post coming on. I intended to wait until the night before Kindergarten to write to you, but judging by the way I'm unraveling now, I will be a basket case by tomorrow evening. I won't be able to breathe, let alone form a coherent sentence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am unbelievably in awe of how fast this day has come. I remember the day you came in to this world...unexpectedly early on the 4th of July. You were born on literally the loudest night of year, and you made your grand entrance with a bang (or maybe that was the fireworks I could hear all around me). I will never forget that day, much like I will never forget the day you begin this new chapter in your life. . &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the get go, your personality was different than your brother's. If I looked at Parker disapprovingly, he'd cry. When you were barely walking I could get down to your level, and glare at those blue eyes of yours, and give you a stern and steady "NO", and you'd look back at me as if to say, "Bring it Lady". I'd continually have to remind you that I was your boss. Literally, I'd have to say, "I'm the boss. Not You....now come over here and give me a kiss." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss my Walmart cohort, my Target companion, and my audience in the bathroom. I will miss hearing Blue's Clue's and Busytown in the background now.  I will miss being on the phone with a client, and seeing you dancing in the office doorway with a packet of fruit snacks in your hand unopened until you asked for my permission. My Wal-mart cart will seem lighter now, as you aren't hanging on the back end trying to do tricks as I push it. My arms will be empty each day now at 2pm, instead of cuddling you for a much needed quiet time. I will have to make the trek out to the mailbox daily, because you won't be here to run out as soon as the mailman pulls away. I will have to eat lunch alone now, as my dining companion will be feasting in a cafeteria instead. The day Parker went off to Kindergarten I came home and snuggled you tightly. What will I do Tuesday? I am going to miss my buddy. I am going to miss having you by my side, Kenters. I will miss my shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the things I pray for you as you enter in to your school age years: I pray for Jesus to walk by your side day in and day out. I pray for healthy and good friendships to be formed in your life. Even now, I pray over your choice of companions. Corinthians says, "bad company corrupts good character," so I pray that you will surround yourself with those that will sharpen you "as iron sharpens iron". I pray that you will learn to submit and respect authority, and to honor those who God has placed in leadership over you. I pray that your passions will find focus, and that your strong will becomes an asset in your life and endeavors. I pray that you will be an influencER and not someone who is influenced by the culture you are in. I pray that you will be IN the world, but not OF it. I pray that you will stand for righteousness when others chase emptiness. I pray that you will pursue holiness. I pray that if no one goes with you, you would still follow. I pray that you will depend on God's strength to help you overcome adversity in your life, and that you'd rely on His grace to help you navigate your frustrations. I pray that you'd be obedient to whatever call He places on your life. I pray that you'd have compassion on those that others have overlooked, and I pray that popularity will seem fleeting to you.  I pray that you'd view your school as your mission field, and that you'd reflect the love of Jesus to those who you sit by and interact with each day. I pray that the Holy Spirit convinces you of the love of Christ, and that you readily accept the gift of salvation that Jesus offers. In the name of Jesus, may your heart, mind, soul, body, and spiritual seed be protected by His precious blood. As you walk in to Bethalto East on Tuesday, I pray you know that you do not walk alone. I pray that you will always remember that He will never leave you or forsake you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Kenters, and even though you are growing up, and moving on to new adventures, you will always be my blue-eyed, chubby cheeked, bunny carrying, skipping and jumping, snack sneaking, boundary pushing, cuddle bug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8987187603037856726?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8987187603037856726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8987187603037856726' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8987187603037856726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8987187603037856726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/222-of-365.html' title='222 of 365'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6122/6037053999_305f8de140_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6497308539952659133</id><published>2011-08-11T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T11:57:02.994-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>***Disclaimer. If there is a short cut to be had, I will find it. These meals are faaaar from gourmet, but I never claimed to be Martha Stewart. I'm more of a Chef Boyardee type of gal. Also, I'm really not all that health conscious, so if you're looking for a healthy way to serve your family quickly, this is not the outline to follow. I was looking for a fast way to make food that I know my family would eat....and the best part is, because these are quick meals, we will be able to eat them together!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 lbs of ground beef $13&lt;br /&gt;------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sloppy Joe&lt;/span&gt;: 1 1lb browned and canned sauce added (80 cents). I will serve this on toasted buns, with oven baked french fries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Taco Meat&lt;/span&gt;: 1 1lb browned and packet mix (50 cents) added. (to be used with taco's or burritos ornacho supreme) I will serve this with a spanish rice (minute style of course!), and taco fixings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meat Loaf:&lt;/span&gt; 2 1lbs, 4 eggs, 1 cup bread crumbs, Italian seasoning (I put this in almost all meat related meals even if it doesn't "go"-it's a tribute to my grandma)., 1/2 onion, and 2 tb of BBQ sauce (all of these little ingredients, I had on hand). Divide mixture in half and shape in to loafs. Cook at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Makes 2 loafs with 6 servings each. The night I serve this I will add rolls, minute rice, and one veggie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shepard's Pie:&lt;/span&gt; 1lb of ground beef, sauteed with onions. Drain. Add one can of drained corn, one can of drained peas, 1/2 bag of cut and cooked carrots,1/2 cup of beef broth, and then enough mashed potatoes (I happened to have leftover homemade mashed potatoes from the night before, but if I make this to freeze again, I'll do all the steps except for the potatoes. The day I serve it, I'll probably use instant potatoes to put on top.) to cover the top. The night I serve this I will add a salad, and rolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 Chicken breasts $8&lt;br /&gt;---------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;BBQ Chicken:&lt;/span&gt; 3 chicken breasts, one onion, 1 bottle of BBQ (may need more as it cooks). Put all ingredients in the Crock Pot and cook on low for 4-6 hours. After shredding the meat with a fork, put in to a freezer bag. I will serve this on a toasted bun with green beans, and apple sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Chicken Pot Pie:&lt;/span&gt; Cook 3 chicken breasts at 350 until they are done. While these are cooking, combine 2 bags of frozen mixed veggies that have been cooked. Add these cooked veggies with three cans of cream of chicken soup. When the chicken is cooked, cut it in to pieces and add it to the mixture of veggies/soup. Divide the mixture and put it in to two separate freezer bags. I bought 4 pie crusts to keep in the freezer as well (my sis-who is the real Martha Stewart, makes her own pie crusts and freezers them). The day this meal is served, I will defrost the mixture in the a.m. Then, at dinner time I will take the pre-made shells out, put one on the bottom of the pie plate, add the mixture, and then add the other crust on top. Cook the pot pie according to the pie instructions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Alfredo:&lt;/span&gt; 3 Chicken Breasts cooked at 350, and then cubed (freeze).  I bought two packets of Alfredo noodles from Schnuck's for 89 cents, and the day of this meal, I'll simply make the noodles and add the defrosted chicken. This is SUPER easy, and my family looves this meal. I serve it with garlic bread and a salad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 meals ready (or semi-ready) to go with little to no additional prep. And with two kids in a total of three soccer leagues, church, school, homework, and two working parents, we are going to need these quick meals. So, with a total of about 3 hours, I'll have 9 meals (not including the left overs I'll make Daddy eat for lunch-love you honey!). Not too shabby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6497308539952659133?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6497308539952659133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6497308539952659133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6497308539952659133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6497308539952659133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/disclaimer.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6806090046937003205</id><published>2011-08-11T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-11T07:57:23.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here I go getting all sappy again. We just had Grandma Bea and Gigi spend 6 days with us, and we had a ball. We really limited our activity, at your request Parker. You wanted to just enjoy the time with your cousin and Great Grandma instead of rushing around from place to place. We did go to The Magic House, one day and to the Muny one night to see "Bye Bye Birdie", but other than that, Grandma and I spent hours playing Canasta, and you kids spent hours in the small pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the nights I had you watch "The Princess Bride", and the three of you LOVED it. You watched it three days in a row, and you wouldn't stop saying, "My names Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die." Grandma Bea bought you three foam swords so you could practice your fencing. Gigi was Wesley, Parker was Inigo Montoya, and Kent was Fesick. I asked to be Buttercup, but you quickly denied me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very emotional when Grandma and Gigi got on the train. Both of you sulked all the way back to the car, and then Parker you reiterated your desire to have all of our family live on the same street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hope that you each realize the blessing that you've been given in coming from a healthy, loving, and functional family. Do not ever take that for granted. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6806090046937003205?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6806090046937003205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6806090046937003205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6806090046937003205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6806090046937003205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/here-i-go-getting-all-sappy-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-1268664317360107470</id><published>2011-08-09T10:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T10:33:10.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BvRAXCwPOkI/TkFvKfcqJ9I/AAAAAAAABzQ/eARBarVuiWc/s1600/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BvRAXCwPOkI/TkFvKfcqJ9I/AAAAAAAABzQ/eARBarVuiWc/s320/035.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638910434475648978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today on the way home from the dentist we passed by a Juvenile Detention Center in Edwardsville. I intended to take the opportunity to give you a reality reminder of what happens when one makes bad choices. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Boys, this is a home where boys go that break all the rules and make bad choices. They live here alone away from everyone that they love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look! They're playing basketball!." Parker, you pointed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great! The one time I drive by the center and try to teach my boys a lesson, is the one time in day that the inmates are out for recreation. Murphy's law. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love basketball! So, they get to play basketball in kids jail? They prolly play kickball too!" Kent, you added.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well..I guess. But they don't get to play for a long time." I quickly responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do they have a TV?" you both asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes......but there's no good channels, Only the boring news." I added. (I knew where your train of thought was headed, so I decided to nip it in the bud).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do they go to school?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, they don't go to a school building, but they have to do their homework in the jail."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And, they have no moms or dads, or brothers, and they don't have to go to school, and they get to play basketball?" Parker you summed up the situation rather nicely...always looking on the sunny side. I saw your mental wheels turning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could tell that you were both contemplating, "kids jail", and were surmising that things didn't appear to be too bad. I decided that I needed to act quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They stay in rooms the size of bathrooms, they have no toys, they only eat rice and spinach (I threw that horrid veggie in there for good measure) every day, they have no privacy in the shower, the don't get to go to the movies, or bowling, they are away from their families and friends, and there are very very very mean people all around." There, that oughta do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm??????", Parker thought out loud..."I like rice." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear! I was just about to give up. I felt defeated, and as if I just persuaded my kids that juvy is a fun place with no parents and no school. When finally it hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is NO candy in kids jail!!!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence. Two mouths open in awe, and two pair of big blue eyes looked at me from the back seat, eyes wide with terror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:1&lt;br /&gt;Kids:0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-1268664317360107470?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/1268664317360107470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=1268664317360107470' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1268664317360107470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/1268664317360107470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/today-on-way-home-from-dentist-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BvRAXCwPOkI/TkFvKfcqJ9I/AAAAAAAABzQ/eARBarVuiWc/s72-c/035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3210402257975280653</id><published>2011-08-02T07:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T07:42:50.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Mommy, my tummy really really hurts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you think maybe you need to sit on the potty for awhile?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. I just think I need to eat some pancakes or something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only you Kent. Only you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3210402257975280653?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3210402257975280653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3210402257975280653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3210402257975280653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3210402257975280653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/mommy-my-tummy-really-really-hurts.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-7843868316646219747</id><published>2011-08-01T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T07:59:49.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BV3a_jMKfLM/Tja_WedWEfI/AAAAAAAAByw/P4axwBqm6O0/s1600/IMG_2355.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BV3a_jMKfLM/Tja_WedWEfI/AAAAAAAAByw/P4axwBqm6O0/s320/IMG_2355.jpg' border='0' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love your Daddy.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-7843868316646219747?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/7843868316646219747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=7843868316646219747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7843868316646219747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/7843868316646219747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-love-your-daddy.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BV3a_jMKfLM/Tja_WedWEfI/AAAAAAAAByw/P4axwBqm6O0/s72-c/IMG_2355.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2904108509772621409</id><published>2011-07-31T18:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T18:49:58.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here is a conversation the two of you had on our way to Wendy's after church this evening...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kent, there are only two places to go when you're dead. You can go to heaven or you can go to hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Heaven is bright", Kent added.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. But if you go to hell, it is very hot and there is no food and no water and there is Satan. Do you know who Satan is?" Parker asked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. He's bad. I heard that in a Bible story. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes..he lived in Heaven with God and he wanted to be God and Jesus, and God said "no" and kicked him out to live in hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which Kent added, "And Jesus died on the cross. He died with his two friends too. There was three people that died on the cross for our sins." (oh dear...we need a theo lesson)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that's right Kent! (No it's not!) And there are two Gods. God and Jesus" (there are not two Gods..we need another theo lesson, but explaining the trinity separate but equal concept can be a little heavy for a 7 year old). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You both crack me up. You speak so matter of factly. I love that you are interested in the things of the Lord..we just need to sharpen up some of your info.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2904108509772621409?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2904108509772621409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2904108509772621409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2904108509772621409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2904108509772621409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/here-is-conversation-two-of-you-had-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8412767584132560576</id><published>2011-07-30T13:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T13:58:34.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ugwVkSXEt98/TjRwNO3bEkI/AAAAAAAAByo/ntMpxrQEHzE/s1600/Elton%2BFamily-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ugwVkSXEt98/TjRwNO3bEkI/AAAAAAAAByo/ntMpxrQEHzE/s320/Elton%2BFamily-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635252406378500674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break my heart, why dontcha Parker?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way out of Chicago today we stopped and bought some donouts for the road trip. As we were getting in the car, Kent asked, "Are we going to stop and say good-bye to Blake and the babies before we leave?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reminded you that we said our farewells to the Sidells yesterday at Mimi and Pop Pop's house. I heard I big sigh, and when I looked in the rear view mirror, I saw Parker with his head hanging low, and I could see tears brimming on your big blue eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's the matter Parker?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to leeaaaave. I just wish that everyone that I love, like our whole family, could all live on the same street. That's all I want. That's all I am asking for."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah!" Kent, you echoed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart sank. I know you are happy and satisfied living where we do, but I also know that your little hearts are conflicted, just like mine. You love your family..your aunts, cousins, grandparents...and it is very hard for you to say good-bye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This departure was a bit more difficult because since April (Pop Pop's diagnosis), we have been traveling home quite a bit. And each time, when you don't want to leave, I say, "Don't worry. We'll be back again in a few days...." This time, I prepared you by telling you that we probably wouldn't be back in Chicago for a long while. School starts, and that makes it more challenging to travel there. So you knew that when you said "good-bye", it meant that you weren't going to see them for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel your pain...it's the never ending conflict in my heart. We are the only ones in the family that don't live within 20 minutes of the others. I am so glad that you feel close to your family, and that you love your time with them, but it does hurt me to know that living far from them weighs on your hearts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that being in the ministry poses that challenge for a lot of pastor's kids. I have to trust that the Lord will give you what you need in order to work your way through these feelings. He loves you more than I ever could, and I know that He is sensitive to your hurts and concerns. Only Jesus knows what our future holds, and where our paths will go, but my prayer is that you learn that there is blessing in obedience, and that sacrifice is worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a teenager and fully surrendered myself to the call of ministry that God had placed on my life, I remember reading Matthew 19:29 "And anyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or fathers or mothers or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life" (NIV) I knew the minute I read that verse, that leaving family was something that I was going to have to be open to. Quite frankly, it was probably the reason why it took me so long to respond to God's calling. But, the Lord led me to a place where I could surrender my desires to be near family, and to accept that He would lead me where I needed to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pray that He does that same for you. You have left family. Yes, you haven't really had a choice, but that doesn't mean you are denied the blessings that Jesus talks about. Because you have left family for HIS sake, I do believe that you will receive "a hundred times as much, and will inherit eternal life". If Jesus said it, then I believe it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will reward you. He has rewarded me and blessed my life because I was willing to sacrifice one of my life's most cherished "possessions"-my family. I believe He will do that for you. He will be near to you when you are sad or missing your loved ones, He will fill every spot of loneliness and longing, He will bring you to a place of acceptance, and ultimately to a place of blessing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't forget...we have each other...and skype. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8412767584132560576?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8412767584132560576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8412767584132560576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8412767584132560576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8412767584132560576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/break-my-heart-why-dontcha-parker-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ugwVkSXEt98/TjRwNO3bEkI/AAAAAAAAByo/ntMpxrQEHzE/s72-c/Elton%2BFamily-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-513222687198162542</id><published>2011-07-29T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T20:21:54.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this summer has been exceptionally hard for you. As much as you are a fun-loving, break-all-the-rules type of kid (and I love you for that), you operate very well when you are in a routine. This summer has required a lot of flexibility on your part, and I think that's been hard for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight you disobeyed and were given a five minute time out in another room. That did not sit well with you, as the whole family was together at Mimi and Pop Pop's enjoying our last night here. You and I were having a discussion in the bedroom, and you just had a meltdown.  I left you alone so you could cool down, and I when I came back we had a very interesting conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In tears you said, "Mom, it is just so hard to make good choices. Why can't I make good choices? Why does being a kid have to be so hard?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can make good choices Kent. You listen to me every day when I tell you to get dressed, or to brush your teeth, or to clean up. You know how to make good choices...sometimes though it is difficult."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm never going to be able to make good choices." You said in a defeated whisper that about broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cuddled you and said, "Daddy, and I, and you are on a team. We are all going to work together to teach you to make good choices every day. I know we can do it! We are going to practice, practice, practice. And we are going to pray, pray and pray. And I know that you can and will make good choices" (I felt like Danny Tanner for sure here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I have a cracker now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy child. You melt my heart. I literally had tears streaming down my face as I tried to convince you that you are capable of making good choices. I believe in you Kent. And I believe in the God who forgives, restores, and gives grace abundantly...I know, because He's done it for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-513222687198162542?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/513222687198162542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=513222687198162542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/513222687198162542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/513222687198162542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/kenters-i-think-this-summer-has-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5652171756568318132</id><published>2011-07-27T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T07:44:43.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yOvOH_gNjK0/TjAkNWAtZrI/AAAAAAAAByg/kR8on3uIK0Y/s1600/family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yOvOH_gNjK0/TjAkNWAtZrI/AAAAAAAAByg/kR8on3uIK0Y/s320/family.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634042945505945266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last few weeks I have heard of several families who have suffered trials in their marriages. Christian couples who once dedicated their lives to God and to each other are now finding themselves fighting to keep their marriages above water. It has really caused me to be thankful for Daddy, and it has caused me to be even more thankful for the grace of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live a very blessed life. I am blessed to have the love of a godly, good, and humble man. You are blessed to have two parents who not only love each other, but like each other too. You are blessed to have the stability of a strong core unit. We are blessed that we serve at a church where the leader is a godly, good, and humble man. We are blessed to be part of a church family that has accepted us. We are blessed to be part of a community that is perfect for children. We are blessed to be able to come and visit our family who is a mere 4 hours away. We are blessed to have jobs and the financial means to have food, shelter, and even some "wants." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are blessed. But this thought humbles me. What we have and how we live has NOTHING to do with your dad or my abilities, talents, or efforts. It is all due to the grace of God. But for the grace of God in my life, and in your dad's life, our journeys could have looked so very different. But for the grace of God in our lives, some of our marital disagreements may never have been resolved. But for the grace of God in our lives, unforgiveness would have built unscaleable barriers. But for the grace of God in our lives, some of our ministry situations could have led us away from the church all together, and even our faith. But for the grace of God in our lives, we could have pursued different career paths, and have been out of the perfect will of God. Bascially...But for the grace of God in our lives, our lives would be a mess.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through every crossroad, through every situation, through every day, the grace of God has led us, protected us, upheld us, and carried us. We owe it all to HIM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5652171756568318132?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5652171756568318132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5652171756568318132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5652171756568318132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5652171756568318132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/in-last-few-weeks-i-have-heard-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yOvOH_gNjK0/TjAkNWAtZrI/AAAAAAAAByg/kR8on3uIK0Y/s72-c/family.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5194369535240061526</id><published>2011-07-26T07:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-26T07:30:02.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>201 of 365</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/5966236590/" title="201 of 365"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/5966236590_3911fcf6a5.jpg" alt="201 of 365 by erikscottberg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/5966236590/"&gt;201 of 365&lt;/a&gt;, a photo by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/"&gt;erikscottberg&lt;/a&gt; on Flickr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;You guys at 6 Flags. AHHH I can't get over how cute you are.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5194369535240061526?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5194369535240061526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5194369535240061526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5194369535240061526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5194369535240061526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/201-of-365.html' title='201 of 365'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6126/5966236590_3911fcf6a5_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5419848558792539499</id><published>2011-07-21T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T19:48:52.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm going to come back and fill in the post with details, but right now I need a shower to get all the Six Flags germs off me!!! That's right. On just about the hottest day of the year (with the heat index of close to 115 degrees), we took a family outing to Six Flags St. Louis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite quote of the day comes from Kent after riding Pandamonium (for our Chicago friends, this is like the Whizzer except the cars spin), "Mom, my tummy feels like it has jelly inside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite moment of the day was when Kent and I, who were sitting two rows in front of Daddy and Parker, heard Parker literally screaming and SOBBING as we ascended the huge hill on Screaming Eagle (again-in Chicagoland this is known as the American Eagle). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good times. I'm pretty sure Parker is scarred for life, but we all enjoyed it nonetheless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5419848558792539499?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5419848558792539499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5419848558792539499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5419848558792539499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5419848558792539499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/im-going-to-come-back-and-fill-in-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2752453994925379888</id><published>2011-07-19T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-19T08:21:38.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been crazy here...and we won't slow down until the week before school starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to a friend yesterday about how scary parenting is..we feel so responsible for your walk with the Lord. What if I don't teach you enough about how to read the Bible? What if I don't teach you enough about how to worship? What if I don't teach you enough about prayer, devotions, tithing, about acts of service, about baptism, about communion, about evangelizing, about holiness....etc, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I think of all the "spiritual" things I want to impart to you, the list seems daunting. But then I was reminded that really, my main responsibility is to show you the LOVE of Christ. The rest will come by the grace of the Holy Spirit. I can plant the seed, and I can do my best to water the seed, but the Lord grows the seed. That is my prayer..that HE brings you to maturity and growth in your faith. I will do my best to be an accurate representation of Christ to you, and to have an authentic faith, and the rest, I gladly hand over to HIM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2752453994925379888?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2752453994925379888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2752453994925379888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2752453994925379888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2752453994925379888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/boys-its-been-crazy-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8968135034861276270</id><published>2011-07-14T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T20:05:06.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parker, my sweet boy. I was having a flare tonight due to my allergy, and I was in quite a bit of pain. You could sense my discomfort, and you said, "Don't worry Mom. I can take care of it all." You showered yourself, and then Kent you jumped in and did likewise with minimal help from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laid down on my bed, and you two, at Parker's direction, brushed your teeth, read your devotions, turned your sound machine on, shut your lights off, and went to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in awe of your sweetness. Thank you Parker for leading the charge, and for sensing my need for help. You are so compassionate sweet sweet one. I kept hearing you tell Kent, "Lets not be silly tonight. Let's just go to bed and help Mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent, you came in bed to ask to cuddle, and I hate turning you away, but I was in a considerable amount of discomfort, and I asked you nicely to go back to bed. You complied, but made sure that I'd cuddle you tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I do to deserve such caring, sensitive, compassionate, and capable little gentlemen?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8968135034861276270?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8968135034861276270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8968135034861276270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8968135034861276270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8968135034861276270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/parker-my-sweet-boy.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8536147533849943647</id><published>2011-07-13T21:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T21:14:57.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we left George in Chicago and we haven't had it for about two weeks. It used to be that if you couldn't find him, you wouldn't sleep, but you've outgrown that stage..or so I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put you to bed around 9:15, and at 10:30 you came in to my room sobbing..."I just really need my Georgie, Mom!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Honey, he is in Chicago, but we'll get him on Friday when we go back"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I just really miss him!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want to sleep with my blankie?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just held you and rocked you while you cried, and then I had an idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you want me to go downstairs and get a stuffed animal monkey from the toys?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mmmmhmmmm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I retrieved two substitutes and came upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Parker, may I introduce you to Feorge and Keorge? These are Georg's brothers and they'd like to hang out until George gets back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You laughed and laughed, grabbed your new buddies, ran off to bed, and were asleep 3 minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how mature and grown up you are, but I love that you still want to sleep with your cuddle toy. I may know someone who is almost 33 and still sleeps with her blanky......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8536147533849943647?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8536147533849943647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8536147533849943647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8536147533849943647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8536147533849943647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/parker-we-left-george-in-chicago-and-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-4411234648089519071</id><published>2011-07-13T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T19:08:26.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Boys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for your school physicals today, and you passed with flying colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parker, you weigh in at 51 lbs, and you stand 48 inches tall. As soon as the nurse called out your height, you said, "Yes!! Now I can ride almost all rides!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kent, you weighed in at 41 lbs, and you stand 42.5 inches tall. When it came time for the nurse to take your blood pressure the first time, the top number was in the 130's...that's because you wouldn't sit still. She had to take the apparatus off your arm, shut the machine off, restart it, and try the whole process again. The second time the top number was 90..which is perfectly average for a boy your size and weight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we still have to get your immunizations, and eye examinations. I didn't think we could handle those outings all in one day, so those things are scheduled for next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so thankful for healthy boys...and rowdy boys..and active boys...and crazy boys...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-4411234648089519071?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/4411234648089519071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=4411234648089519071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4411234648089519071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/4411234648089519071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/boys-we-went-for-your-school-physicals.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3213437628184747849</id><published>2011-07-12T16:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T16:49:09.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mFO85mjLH0k/ThzdafbdHqI/AAAAAAAAByI/dRx9P2GfRbI/s1600/075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mFO85mjLH0k/ThzdafbdHqI/AAAAAAAAByI/dRx9P2GfRbI/s320/075.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628617081489268386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think I spoil you. I may go overboard on the things I allow you to do, and the things I give to you. But I love you so much, if I could fly to the moon and bring it back for you, I'd do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you munchkins, who aren't really munchkins anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3213437628184747849?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3213437628184747849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3213437628184747849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3213437628184747849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3213437628184747849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/sometimes-i-think-i-spoil-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mFO85mjLH0k/ThzdafbdHqI/AAAAAAAAByI/dRx9P2GfRbI/s72-c/075.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-6261679388686710706</id><published>2011-07-11T19:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T20:00:56.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here's our day in a nutshell:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked in the a.m. while you two played...not a fight or disagreement for three solid hours! So proud of you two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 2 pm we picked up Parker's buddy and we all went to see "Mr. Popper's Penguins". We haven't quite mastered the being quiet in movie theaters, but we sat up in the balcony in the very last row, so we didn't disturbed the other two families in there. After the movie ended, the credits were rolling to the tune of "Ice Ice Baby". Kent and I danced and danced while Parker and his buddy slouched in embarrassment in their chairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all went out for ice-cream. I love to treat you. I love giving you good things...I know this is how God is with us. He desires to bless us. It warms His heart when He gives us gifts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywhoo...when we got home you boys played "bad guys" for another two solid hours. You came up in various costumes, and I overheard several strategies of yours on how to overcome the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RY_UWNGP9DE/Thu4SSPiMdI/AAAAAAAABx4/WrSfXEOQt6s/s1600/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RY_UWNGP9DE/Thu4SSPiMdI/AAAAAAAABx4/WrSfXEOQt6s/s320/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628294783603716562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;("Mom, can you please tie this on my neck like a good cowboy?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a devotion and story, I kissed the two of you and left you as I thought you were both asleep.  Ten minutes later Parker, you burst in to my room holding a tooth in your hand. You of course were very excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--GuVgB7gM4U/Thu4SxUyrhI/AAAAAAAAByA/RxlDZ3ur9tU/s1600/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--GuVgB7gM4U/Thu4SxUyrhI/AAAAAAAAByA/RxlDZ3ur9tU/s320/006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628294791947267602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Tooth #7)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great day together, and tomorrow might be a bit more hectic. You have to accompany me to the dentist while I get a filling (that should be interesting), and then the two of you have your school physicals tomorrow, and then we will close out the evening at Parker's baseball game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you both, and I cherish the summer months when we can be together.  Kiss. Kiss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-6261679388686710706?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/6261679388686710706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=6261679388686710706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6261679388686710706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/6261679388686710706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/heres-our-day-in-nutshell-i-worked-in-a.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RY_UWNGP9DE/Thu4SSPiMdI/AAAAAAAABx4/WrSfXEOQt6s/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-8156069801892198162</id><published>2011-07-11T07:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T07:55:46.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>190 of 365</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0 0 10px 0; padding: 0; font-size: 0.8em; line-height: 1.6em;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/5924236655/" title="190 of 365"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6149/5924236655_6c29f94b6c.jpg" alt="190 of 365 by erikscottberg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="margin: 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/5924236655/"&gt;190 of 365&lt;/a&gt;, a photo by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikscottberg/"&gt;erikscottberg&lt;/a&gt; on Flickr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I went garage sale hopping with two friends on Saturday morning, Daddy took you both to Donut Express, a cute little shop in Bethalto. I have taken you there before, and I knew it would be a treat for you. It was the highlight of your day, as you ate dounts and had some male bonding time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-8156069801892198162?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/8156069801892198162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=8156069801892198162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8156069801892198162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/8156069801892198162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/190-of-365.html' title='190 of 365'/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6149/5924236655_6c29f94b6c_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-501260455961498346</id><published>2011-07-09T17:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T17:43:00.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P4FVJs4WBaE/Thj0u59MvNI/AAAAAAAABxw/YlqVLN39cuo/s1600/112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P4FVJs4WBaE/Thj0u59MvNI/AAAAAAAABxw/YlqVLN39cuo/s320/112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627516821068102866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to jot this story down last week, but it's never too late to hear one of your hilarious antics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to pick you up from Sunday School your teacher asked me how my hands were feeling. I looked at her with a confused gaze, and she responded in laughter. Apparently, you requested that I be healed during your prayer request time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Teacher, I would like to pray for my mom. Her hands fell off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked you about it in the car on the way home, you giggled your mischevious laugh, and said, "I was really trying to be funny."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What strikes me as humorous is that I can remember as a kid making up a big story like that about my mom during prayer request time. I told everyone in my class that my mom got cut in the head by a lamp, and that we needed to pray for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess like mother like son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We crack me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-501260455961498346?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/501260455961498346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=501260455961498346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/501260455961498346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/501260455961498346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/kenters-i-forgot-to-jot-this-story-down.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P4FVJs4WBaE/Thj0u59MvNI/AAAAAAAABxw/YlqVLN39cuo/s72-c/112.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-9149133112514697114</id><published>2011-07-07T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T14:25:05.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a quick note: I love you love you love you love you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all. You bring so much joy to my life. I can't fathom having to send you to school in 6 short weeks. Be ready for LOTS of cuddles and kisses during these next few weeks....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-9149133112514697114?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/9149133112514697114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=9149133112514697114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/9149133112514697114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/9149133112514697114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/kenters-just-quick-note-i-love-you-love.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2842258341224586396</id><published>2011-07-05T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T08:47:00.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kenters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dTVqii7sRPg/ThMf2Ld5eEI/AAAAAAAABwY/UHnCKB5xr_k/s1600/066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dTVqii7sRPg/ThMf2Ld5eEI/AAAAAAAABwY/UHnCKB5xr_k/s320/066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625875375167469634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I running behind schedule so I'm gonna bullet point our day yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You woke up earlier than everyone else and went and watched TV. Once the rest of us woke up, we called you upstairs to eat your "K" cinnamon roll, sing "Happy Bday", and open presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GUzEv-OHnVQ/ThMf1h_MsWI/AAAAAAAABwQ/rFmVmtziPww/s1600/047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GUzEv-OHnVQ/ThMf1h_MsWI/AAAAAAAABwQ/rFmVmtziPww/s320/047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625875364032852322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You got a Club Penguin DS game, a Club Penguin stuffed animal crab named Klutzy, M &amp; M bank and candy, Hot Wheels for the tub, Hot Wheels ramp, Blues Clues books, Canvas and paints, and money. Your favorite was Club Penguin DS game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You wanted to play with all of your new loot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You and Parker spent some time outside in the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s6gj9JdwjnM/ThMf2zZq_8I/AAAAAAAABwg/KLHrfi3POi4/s1600/078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s6gj9JdwjnM/ThMf2zZq_8I/AAAAAAAABwg/KLHrfi3POi4/s320/078.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625875385887162306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You came in and you both started to watch "Sandlot" (after I begged and begged), and Parker made it through about 3/4 of the movie, and you stayed glued to the computer for the whole thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*You spent about 2 minutes riding your bike. Now that you are 5, you can ride so much faster (at least that's what you said)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We got to Granite and listened to The Great Romance...they were really really good. You were thirsty though and I had to miss a bit of their show in order to walk across the field and street to Save-a-lot and buy you a gatorade.....and some Oreos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We started to walk to the carnival and it began to downpour, so we made a run for the car and waited out the storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We saw a beautiful rainbow after the short rain was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-94KNtcVOZcQ/ThMwiEoUAxI/AAAAAAAABw4/b2jvbDpT9hc/s1600/107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-94KNtcVOZcQ/ThMwiEoUAxI/AAAAAAAABw4/b2jvbDpT9hc/s320/107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625893721432392466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We walked the two blocks to the carnival, and we found the field to be MUDDY...we were all slopping around in the wet dirt..something I would never have allowed. But, it's a carnival...we could have gone in our pajamas and still have been overdressed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzg151RYT_I/ThMwirUP6eI/AAAAAAAABxA/yhj_IIrgTeA/s1600/125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzg151RYT_I/ThMwirUP6eI/AAAAAAAABxA/yhj_IIrgTeA/s320/125.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625893731817220578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, you rode the ducks, the dragons, the slide, and had shaved ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9bqPgJ0eIxk/ThMf3Mbt8xI/AAAAAAAABwo/mHGnJCufB1w/s1600/112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9bqPgJ0eIxk/ThMf3Mbt8xI/AAAAAAAABwo/mHGnJCufB1w/s320/112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625875392606630674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-H77xEmX8Q/ThMf34vmY-I/AAAAAAAABww/KCtsw7m6FYU/s1600/128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D-H77xEmX8Q/ThMf34vmY-I/AAAAAAAABww/KCtsw7m6FYU/s320/128.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625875404501181410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We walked over to the field for fireworks, and you and bro spent 25 minutes playing frisbee with your glow-stick necklaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The fireworks began, and they were great..we were really impressed with the amount of the fireworks and the quality. But, by the time the grand finale rolled around, I looked down and you were fast asleep on the blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5j-Uark6AMU/ThMwjO6GFRI/AAAAAAAABxI/kG-Qw5vsLjk/s1600/133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5j-Uark6AMU/ThMwjO6GFRI/AAAAAAAABxI/kG-Qw5vsLjk/s320/133.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625893741371200786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We put you in the car, drove home, and forced you to take a shower at 10:30 at night. You were not too happy about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*All in all, we had a great day as a family celebrating you and our great country!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2842258341224586396?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2842258341224586396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2842258341224586396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2842258341224586396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2842258341224586396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/kenters-i-running-behind-schedule-so-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dTVqii7sRPg/ThMf2Ld5eEI/AAAAAAAABwY/UHnCKB5xr_k/s72-c/066.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-3318666427237432746</id><published>2011-07-04T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T07:26:31.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Interview with the newly 5 year old Kent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does it feel to be five? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Good.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your favorite thing about being 4? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ummm…playing with Parker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite food?&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; Pizza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite drink? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Apple juice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite restaurant? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;McDonalds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite book? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Blue’s Clues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite song? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;One Way, Jesus (same as Parker’s)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite color? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Orange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite dessert? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Cupcakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is your best friend? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Trenton&lt;/span&gt; (giggle giggle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite thing to do? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Play the Wii…Mario Cart and I meant Star Wars Legos too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think about God? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;He made my momma and daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you want to thank Jesus for? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Making my brother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you most looking forward to as a five year old? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Playing with toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to say anything else? &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I’m FIVE!!!!!!!! Can I leave now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-3318666427237432746?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/3318666427237432746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=3318666427237432746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3318666427237432746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/3318666427237432746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/interview-with-newly-5-year-old-kent.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-5615562910798949257</id><published>2011-07-03T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T13:41:33.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>5 years ago today I went to the OB who examined me and told me I was okay to take an hour trip to the Elton's for the 4th of July on the next day. He was wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-5615562910798949257?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/5615562910798949257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=5615562910798949257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5615562910798949257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/5615562910798949257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/07/5-years-ago-today-i-went-to-ob-who.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593107420804368830.post-2795587696184668056</id><published>2011-06-30T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T21:58:46.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Parker,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you and I had a nice little evening out tonight. After your baseball game we had to drive to Edwardsville to pay your soccer fee and to try on your uniform. Your coach gave you a homework assignment to come to your first practice with three ideas of team names that represent something in nature (tornadoes, thunder, etc). After we made a quick stop at the grocery store we made the drive home and you were such a chatter box. First we tried to come up with some team names. I volunteered the name "The Avalanche", or "Comets", or "Astros." You came up with "The Winds","Outerspacers", and "Planets". Then we somehow got on to the subject of kickball, and you talked a mile a minute about the game you play during recess. I have no idea what you were saying, because you were speed talking. Apparently kickball is a passion of yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked back to you for a second to see your face as you excitedly explained your offensive strategy, and wouldn't you know, I rear ended someone. The driver pulled over, and I followed. We both got out of the car and met on the shoulder of the road. Lucky for me, it was a car full of teenage boys. They didn't even ask for my name, number, or insurance. They quickly checked their bumper and then sped away. PHEW!!! No damage done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was so in to you that I got in an accident. Then all you wanted to talk about was the police, and if they were going to come and get me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you and I love spending time with you. I am trying to be really conscious of giving an opportunity for conversation to take place. Instead of the radio in the car, I am really trying to have our interaction be our entertainment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momma loves. Momma loves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593107420804368830-2795587696184668056?l=bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/feeds/2795587696184668056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7593107420804368830&amp;postID=2795587696184668056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2795587696184668056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593107420804368830/posts/default/2795587696184668056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bethanyscottberg.blogspot.com/2011/06/parker-you-and-i-had-nice-little.html' title=''/><author><name>Bethany Patrice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12847627589101489957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2Nzc_uAWVOI/Sm5H3RODCcI/AAAAAAAAA4k/lL0jMtA4o-A/S220/misc+july+2009+040.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
