<?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-5024542823452201829</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:12:56.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Craft Family Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-7115687293215957484</id><published>2010-06-21T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T19:40:40.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;So, yesterday was Father's Day.  We had a really nice day with Nana Neener and Papa John.  Went to breakfast and to wonderland with the kids.  I am so lucky to have married a man who LOVES his kids and his family SO SO SO much!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);"&gt;When we came home as I was making dinner, I checked my Facebook, and I was hit by some comments from a friend about missing my Dad.  I had held it together all day! Not anymore! As I stood at the sink crying, Sierra came to me and asked if I was okay. I said that I just missed my Daddy and that it was hard to not be able to tell him Happy Father's Day. She took my hand and softly said, "I miss him too." and just stood there with me.  After a few minutes she let go of my hand, and went over to the stove and started stirring the dinner for me.  How blessed am I to have kids who just let me cry and take care of my responsibilities when I am hurting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure Miss you Daddy. I wish you were here to see how great your Grandbabies are turning out. I know you are looking down on them, but it doesn't feel the same.  Happy Father's Day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-7115687293215957484?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/7115687293215957484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=7115687293215957484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/7115687293215957484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/7115687293215957484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2010/06/fathers-day.html' title='Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-1303218944388006753</id><published>2008-12-21T22:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T22:19:10.419-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sierra looks on the bright side</title><content type='html'>As I was looking at some pictures today Seth reminded me of something that Sierra said that I just had to share.  On December 9th we took a ride on the Polar Express with a group of our friends.  While we were there Sierra was telling her best friend Maliya, who is 6 months older than her, "Mia, you will be 5 before me.  Then you will  be 8 before me."  Seth then informs her, "Sierra, she will be everything before you, because she was born before you.  She will always be older than you."  Sierra turns to Maliya and says, with a total straight face and quite matter of fact, "Mia, you will be dead before me."  Ahhh, the way kids minds work!  :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SU8xLPrynnI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ojL8G_GXHAc/s1600-h/100_9581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SU8xLPrynnI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ojL8G_GXHAc/s320/100_9581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282494957187407474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sierra and Mia on the Polar Express&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-1303218944388006753?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/1303218944388006753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=1303218944388006753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/1303218944388006753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/1303218944388006753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2008/12/sierra-looks-on-bright-side.html' title='Sierra looks on the bright side'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SU8xLPrynnI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ojL8G_GXHAc/s72-c/100_9581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-8394585153754065333</id><published>2008-12-05T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T14:00:15.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Long week</title><content type='html'>This week Summer has been a pretty sick little girl.  She wasn't feeling great on Tuesday and that night she kept waking up for water and to go pee.  (Or just pee in our bed!)  She threw up during the night and had a fever all night.  I took her in Wednesday morning to the doctor.  I assumed she had a UTI, so they had me take her to the lab 1st to give a urine sample.  When the doctor came in she sat down and said, "I think what we are looking at here is diabetes.  I'm gonna give you a few minutes to process this."  I think I just stared at her.  My 2 year old can NOT have diabetes!  She  had us go do a blood draw to confirm this.  Her blood sugar level was 249.  Her doctor was so great.  She stayed with me in the room a good majority of the time while they waited for a bed for her at the hospital and for Summer's nausea to pass.  I then called Seth to meet me at Doernbecher Children's hospital where they admitted her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we got all settled into the hospital they checked her blood sugar level and it was at 148.  Hmm?  That's high, but not so high they will diagnose her with diabetes.  When they checked her urine at the hospital they also found no ketones, whick was what concerned her doctor in the first place.  After more pokes for poor baby Summer and more tests, they decided it could just have been stress induced hyperglycemia or very very early diabetes.  Oh ya, and a UTI.  (Mommy knows best!)  They sent us home that night with antibiotics for the UTI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night she was up all night again with a fever and throwing up.  The next morning we decided to take her back in to see her doctor.  She couldn't even take a sip of water without throwing it back up immediately.  By the time my mom and I got to the doctor's office with her she was running around like usual, being crazy.  The doctor said if she got sick or feverish again to bring her back in for an injection of the antibiotic.  Of course, we get home, she takes a nap, and as soon as she gets up her fever goes up to 102.8.  Go figure.  Back to the doctor we go.  (And I'm sure you can all guess how she was by the time we got there huh?!?)  Oh, well.  She had to get the shot anyway.  2 actually.  One in each leg.  It was horrible.  The nurses even said this was a very painful injection.  But, after some ice packs and some Princess stickers she seemed to be feeling a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then back to the doctor this morning to pick up a diabetes testing kit.  They want me to check her glucose level 2x a day for a few weeks just to make sure this is not diabetes.  And she has to have her blood drawn again for them to run 4 more tests.  After talking with the doctor we decided to wait until she is feeling better to start poking at her again.  So, on Tuesday I meet with a diabetes specialist to learn how to use the test kit and I will probably take her into the lab that day as well to have her blood drawn again.  I will post again when I have any more info.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of right now they are leaning more towards her NOT having diabetes, but please be praying for her.  And ME!!  Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/STmkHWhOteI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tQzSzim0h4s/s1600-h/summer+hospital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/STmkHWhOteI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tQzSzim0h4s/s320/summer+hospital.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276428884652242402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Summer in her hospital crib up at  Doernbecher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-8394585153754065333?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/8394585153754065333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=8394585153754065333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/8394585153754065333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/8394585153754065333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2008/12/long-week.html' title='Long week'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/STmkHWhOteI/AAAAAAAAAEo/tQzSzim0h4s/s72-c/summer+hospital.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-8168737048427057534</id><published>2008-11-13T00:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T01:01:59.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Highs and Lows</title><content type='html'>Today I think I had some of my highest highs and lowest lows.  The whole day seemed to be one big roller coaster.  I started out my day fine then it got bad, then better, then worse, then great.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I had my first counseling session with a new counselor.  She was great.  We mostly talked about my Dad.  Lately, I have been having a really hard time shutting down my thoughts.  I just want to know, when will I quit replaying those few days in my head?  I think I am going to write it all down.  Every single detail I can remember.  As awful as it sounds, I think the reason I replay it all so much is that I'm so scared of forgetting.  Though, I don't want to remember it either.  Maybe if I know I have it in writing, I won't have to think about it so much? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I left there, I headed out to Summer's for a pajama party with my girlfriends.  I didn't want to go, but I never miss a girl's get-together.  I really just wanted to go home, curl up in bed, and cry.  I'm glad I didn't.  I think I spent the entire evening laughing.  My girlfriends have a way of cheering you up like nobody else.  Thank God for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now as I sit here at 1am, I don't know how to feel.  I feel drained.  I could go either way.  Maybe I should just go to bed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-8168737048427057534?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/8168737048427057534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=8168737048427057534' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/8168737048427057534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/8168737048427057534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2008/11/highs-and-lows.html' title='Highs and Lows'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-3849321198020449716</id><published>2008-11-11T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T16:18:20.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>This year Halloween seemed to come and go very quickly.  It feels like every year seems to go by faster and faster.  Also, this year costumes seemed to be very simple.  Usually, I stress about costumes the most, but I really didn't think twice about them this year.  Gage chose to be Hulk which was easy to find.  Brooke wanted to be an Angel again this year, for a very sweet reason which I didn't find out until today.  Sierra picked out a butterfly costume at goodwill with Grandma Catherine a few weeks prior.  And Summer was the octopus that she was last year.  I was so excited, because that is my favorite costume and none of them will fit into it next year.  Everything just seemed to fall into place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend before Halloween we went to Howloween at the zoo.  The kids got to wear their costumes and go on a scavenger hunt kind of thing.  That was lots of fun.  Then on Halloween night we had Grandma Sheri and some friends come over for dinner and trick-or-treating.  We were out for so long that the kids were finally asking to go home!  They got lots of candy for Mom and Dad though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the trick-or-treating Brooke told Grandma Sheri, "Grandma, do you know why I am an Angel?  Because that is what Grandpa always called me and he's an angel now.  So now we both are."  Wow.  Then, at another point during the evening, Sierra said, "listen, if you be really quiet and close your eyes, you can see Grandpa Fred."  Again, Wow.  They understand things so much more than people give them credit for.  My kids never fail to amaze me every single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnuxeYXSiI/AAAAAAAAAEA/QXVT5UKL1e4/s1600-h/100_9123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnuxeYXSiI/AAAAAAAAAEA/QXVT5UKL1e4/s320/100_9123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267503772922759714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                Howloween at the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRntHuP2nFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/jkuutMIvaYg/s1600-h/100_9276.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRntHuP2nFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/jkuutMIvaYg/s320/100_9276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267501956115897426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                    The crazy family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnslEv-XrI/AAAAAAAAADw/wznMkcxImBY/s1600-h/100_9275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnslEv-XrI/AAAAAAAAADw/wznMkcxImBY/s320/100_9275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267501360860782258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                         Our group&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-3849321198020449716?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/3849321198020449716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=3849321198020449716' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/3849321198020449716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/3849321198020449716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2008/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnuxeYXSiI/AAAAAAAAAEA/QXVT5UKL1e4/s72-c/100_9123.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-6430919732019288161</id><published>2008-11-11T11:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T12:04:56.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Patch</title><content type='html'>So a few weeks ago we went to the pumpkin patch. As most of you probably know this is something we always did with my Dad. We decided to go to one of my Dad's favorite Pumpkin Patches this year. As hard as it is to continue on traditions, we know we have to for the kids. And to keep the memory of my Dad alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we went to Fir Point Farms in the middle of the week. We hadn't thought about the fact that because it wasn't a weekend a lot of the attractions would be closed. However, those that they can't necessarily close were free! And there were NO LINES! Woo Hoo! We thought about going to a different one down the road, but the kids were having so much fun we decided to stay. It was nice to not deal with crowds and kinda let the kids stray a little farther than we would have been able to otherwise. It was a beautiful fall day. My Dad would have loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were taking some last pictures of Grandma Sheri with all the kids, Gage kept trying to run off to go "make Grandpa Fred". We were all confused as to what he was talking about, but when we were done he ran off and started kicking up dirt. Everybody kept telling him to stop, until he said, "But look. I'm making Grandpa Fred." Gage has his own way of dealing with this and I love that he wanted to feel that Grandpa was there with us. I know I could feel him there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnkkyTvrBI/AAAAAAAAADo/D0ML4NN37eY/s1600-h/100_9221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnkkyTvrBI/AAAAAAAAADo/D0ML4NN37eY/s320/100_9221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267492559817518098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                     Grandma sheri and her grandbabies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnjfiz8-vI/AAAAAAAAADg/lOpkGfnyLiE/s1600-h/100_9144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnjfiz8-vI/AAAAAAAAADg/lOpkGfnyLiE/s320/100_9144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267491370246666994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                         My little family.  Unfortunately, Seth had to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-6430919732019288161?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/6430919732019288161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=6430919732019288161' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/6430919732019288161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/6430919732019288161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2008/11/pumpkin-patch.html' title='Pumpkin Patch'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/SRnkkyTvrBI/AAAAAAAAADo/D0ML4NN37eY/s72-c/100_9221.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-3029269442264515425</id><published>2007-10-11T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T22:32:24.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy's Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;When kids are teenagers, can we hold them to what they said and did when they were 5 years old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;Today I asked Gage if he had a girlfriend at school and he wrapped his little arms around me and said "mom, you're all I want" and then as he is snuggling his little face in my neck he says, "I have all I'll ever need, right here."  When I ask Gage where he is going to live when he grows up he tells me, "In a tent that takes up the whole backyard."  And when he was little if I would say, "Gage, I'm sad" he would hug me and say, "It's okay mommy, I'll always be your baby Gage."  Every morning before he gets on the school bus, he stops at the stairs to the bus, turns around and throws me a hug and a kiss!  Even though he hugged and kissed me just before he left the sidewalk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rw8GDZV70ZI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5dp5MnsUDVI/s1600-h/100_6381.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rw8GDZV70ZI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5dp5MnsUDVI/s320/100_6381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120317956755804562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;I love having a mommy's boy, but I can't help but think of how much I am going to miss it when he grows up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-3029269442264515425?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/3029269442264515425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=3029269442264515425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/3029269442264515425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/3029269442264515425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2007/10/mommys-boy.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Boy'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rw8GDZV70ZI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5dp5MnsUDVI/s72-c/100_6381.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-1537853670971360568</id><published>2007-09-27T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T22:39:59.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dorks</title><content type='html'>So, last night as I was tucking Gage into bed I was trying to convince him that it would be best for all parties involved for him to stay in his own bed all night.  He said his bed wasn't comfy, so to make it more cushy I went out to the garage and got him 2 big blankets.  As I was making up his bed I was telling him that the comforter was Daddy's and the fuzzy blanket was mommy's before we met.  (Gage loves that kind of thing.)  He snuggled right down into the blankets and went right to sleep without any complaints.  I thought this was so sweet!  I then went into my room where Seth and Sierra were laying in bed.  I was telling Seth about this and I said, "Gage is such a....." and as I was trying to think of the word to use, Sierra immediately pipes in with, "DORK".  We almost died laughing!  I was thinking more along the lines of 'sentimental child', but her idea was much funnier.  My kids are dorks sometimes, but they sure are funny ones!   And by the way, Gage stayed in his  own bed all night long!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-1537853670971360568?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/1537853670971360568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=1537853670971360568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/1537853670971360568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/1537853670971360568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2007/09/dorks.html' title='Dorks'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-1481473198866402284</id><published>2007-09-24T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T14:58:49.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pinkie Promises</title><content type='html'>A few days ago, Gage and Brooklyn came home from school and Brooklyn was crying. I asked what was wrong and she told me that at recess Gage and another little boy were throwing balls at her and she got a scrape on her arm. I was so disappointed. I had a talk with Gage and explained to him that as the big brother of this family it is his responsibility to protect his sisters. That out of all the hundreds of kids in that school, he should be the one that Brooklyn can always trust to be there and stick up for her. The next day after school the kids were eating lunch and I asked Brooklyn if Gage threw any balls at her and she casually replied, "No, we made a pinkie promise." I asked what they promised and her and Gage both looked up at me with the proudest looks on their little faces as she said, "We promised that everyday at recess we would always stick together." Gage then says, "Ya, and I will only throw balls if we are playing catch, but I will only throw the big ones, because she can't catch the small ones yet!" Brooklyn, pointing at her arm, says,"Ya, that's what gave me this scrape!" I cried! To think that these 2 little minds came up with this idea all on their own! I love the fact that my "talk" with Gage had such an impact for it to still be on their minds even after it was all said and done. And I thought that they didn't listen! I love my kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/RvgySZV70WI/AAAAAAAAABc/02Zsio1dlLg/s1600-h/100_5967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/RvgySZV70WI/AAAAAAAAABc/02Zsio1dlLg/s320/100_5967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113892668501119330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rvgy4ZV70XI/AAAAAAAAABk/E4DdiR5d0cQ/s1600-h/100_5962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rvgy4ZV70XI/AAAAAAAAABk/E4DdiR5d0cQ/s320/100_5962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113893321336148338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-1481473198866402284?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/1481473198866402284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=1481473198866402284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/1481473198866402284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/1481473198866402284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2007/09/pinkie-promises.html' title='Pinkie Promises'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/RvgySZV70WI/AAAAAAAAABc/02Zsio1dlLg/s72-c/100_5967.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-6916322064883880214</id><published>2007-09-09T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T00:01:06.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Answered Prayers</title><content type='html'>I'm sure most of you know that Seth has been unemployed since may and many people have been praying for him to find a job.  I think that God was just waiting for the right person to come to him.  A few weeks ago Seth asked me how to  pray.  "Do you pray out loud or silent?", "Do you talk to Jesus or God?"  I am by no means an expert on praying, so I told him to do what felt right.  He chose to pray out loud.  We truly feel that God has answered our prayers.  A few days ago my best friend Jeni told me that she gave Seth's number to her brother because they really needed help at his work.  He called Seth and Seth called the owner of this company.  She was so awesome.  He went and met her today and he starts work tomorrow at noon.  It is doing construction, but all different kinds, such as building dog runs for the police dept., and building the wolf pen at the zoo.  Seth is so excited and we are really hoping that this could be the beginning of a really great future for us.  Thank you Jeni and Jeremy and all of you who have been praying for us.  But most of all Thank you God for always providing for us and help us to always remember to trust in you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-6916322064883880214?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/6916322064883880214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=6916322064883880214' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/6916322064883880214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/6916322064883880214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2007/09/answered-prayers.html' title='Answered Prayers'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5024542823452201829.post-5370900580337581400</id><published>2007-09-05T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T00:46:46.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And they're off!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, Today was Gage and Brooklyn's first day of kindergarten.  I can't believe how much my babies have grown up.  Watching those 2 little people get onto that big school bus made my heart feel so heavy.  I knew that they were going to be just fine, because they had each other.  I don't know that I could have been that strong if it was only one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We have been to their school several times in preparation for kindergarten as well as having attended a few church services that are held there, so I also felt confident that the kids were fairly comfortable with the school itself.  The last time we were at their school I gave them one last run through of how to get to their classrooms from the front door.  When they got home I had to have every detail of how their first day was and how they did in this new world.  I asked if they found their classrooms okay and Brooklyn informed me that they did not enter the school through the front door.  They came in through the side door.  Uh-Oh!  They had big smiles on thier faces as they told me that they walked inside and the hall they were supposed to turn down was not there.  Gage said, "The principal asked if we needed any help and I told him "No, we can find it.""  I asked, "Were you scared?" and Brooklyn says "NO!"  I just picture these 2 little kids in some place like NYC and saying they don't need help!  I know it's really not that drastic, but that's how it feels!  I  had it pointed out to me that I should feel very proud that I must have done something right for my kids to feel so secure and confident.  I do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am so blessed to have all of my children and there is no time like their first day of kindergarten to make you realize how fast time goes by and to cherish all the time you have with them.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rt5bVwRA_qI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ppfSB9k3pLU/s1600-h/100_5947.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rt5bVwRA_qI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ppfSB9k3pLU/s320/100_5947.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106619456776371874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                                          (Waiting for the school bus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rt5b3gRA_rI/AAAAAAAAAAc/P5k-xxYRUkI/s1600-h/100_5953.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rt5b3gRA_rI/AAAAAAAAAAc/P5k-xxYRUkI/s320/100_5953.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106620036596956850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                                                           (There they go!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5024542823452201829-5370900580337581400?l=rachelcraft.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/feeds/5370900580337581400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5024542823452201829&amp;postID=5370900580337581400' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/5370900580337581400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5024542823452201829/posts/default/5370900580337581400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rachelcraft.blogspot.com/2007/09/and-theyre-off.html' title='And they&apos;re off!'/><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15665222889636417458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aikwsXG9S6E/TbUMuXgdQwI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jC7pSYwqvAE/s220/DSC05553.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OPFsiK_BIrM/Rt5bVwRA_qI/AAAAAAAAAAU/ppfSB9k3pLU/s72-c/100_5947.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
