tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-317354322024-03-13T18:32:43.283-05:00Doing Family Nerd StyleI started this blog a few weeks after getting married in July of 2006. At the time, it was just me, BJ, our lovable Labrador, and our evil cat. Here is how I explained this blog: "This is the chronicle of us all learning how to live together." Well, now it is me, BJ, a little boy, a baby girl, and a loveable mutt, and this is still a blog about us learning to live together. Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.comBlogger569125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-81556426748291217782018-02-16T16:24:00.000-06:002018-02-17T17:09:41.311-06:00A Plea to My Fellow Christians as We Respond to Mass Shootings<br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Another mass shooting has come to
pass. More parents are at home without their children under their roof. In the
presence of such tragedy, our smallness as individuals becomes too evident.
Because we are not capable of processing so many tragedies coming after so many
tragedies, we become numb, and in our numbed disbelief and fear, we try to
offer an easy answer that will make it all less horrifying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It is time to call mass shootings what
they are: an epidemic. It is not so unlike smallpox or polio or AIDS. It is a
scourge that spreads fear, threatens our ability to pursue life and happiness,
and, most importantly, endangers our children. Humanity has faced many plagues
before, and we have responded heroically at times and counter-productively at
others. Watching the responses play out on social media each time over the
years since Sandy Hook, I am fatigued by the rounds of faulty logic and tired
arguments I keep reading. However, I’m writing this to specifically address my
brothers and sisters in Christ who keep posting a certain argument that I fear
pours salt in wounds, misrepresents the mission of our Lord, and damages our
very faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before I dive into specifics, though,
let me tell you a story. In the 1980s, the AIDS epidemic hit America with a
terrifying fury. And of course, the gay community was ravaged by the mysterious
and brutal disease. In the face of that suffering and death, what did the
Christian community do? They looked at their dying neighbor and said they
deserved what they were getting. Many said that it was punishment directly from
God for their sins. They perpetuated this message blatantly and by their
inaction. In the process, they led families to forsake their dying sons and
brothers, to leave the suffering to suffer alone as they walked through the
valley of the shadow of death. By persuading public opinion in the Republican
party, they contributed to the paltry budget allocated by the Reagan
administration for AIDS research despite the fact that our countrymen where
dying by the thousands. The Christian community neglected sufferers out of
their own fear and hatred of people they did not understand, and they hindered
the progress towards effective treatment and a cure. The AIDS epidemic is a
shameful chapter in the history of Christianity.*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fast forward to today. For the past
two days, I’ve seen countless posts saying that the epidemic of mass shootings
in our country are the result of prayer being taken out of school. Of the Ten
Commandments no longer hanging on the walls of our public institutions. Of the
moral depravity of our citizenry. Once again, Christians are blaming the
victims in the midst of a horrifying plague. Once again, we are representing
our loving, merciful God as a petty tyrant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is a very obvious flaw to this
argument. America has a staggering amount of deaths resulting from gun violence
as compared tomostl other developed countries. Yet, if you go to Australia or
Canada, for example, you will not find a citizenry of saints. You will not find
government or institutions promoting Christian prayers. You will not find the
Ten Commandments pasted to school walls. The difference between America and our
peers is not the content of our character: the difference is the laws of our
lands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I am a millennial and a mother to four
beautiful children, all of whom will receive their k-12 education in public
schools. I am terrified for the safety of my children. I am not alone. My
generation grew up in the midst of Columbine, and as parents, we hear our
children talk about drills at school for “if a bad guy comes.” Please, my
fellow Christians, hear me when I say that your arguments for how to address
this situation that our devoid of factual evidence and your thoughts and
prayers that are devoid of action feel not only empty as I wrestle with my
fears for my children’s safety: they feel insulting. Please, please, please
stop telling me that my God is hateful and that my children’s rights to life,
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are less important than your right to bare
an AR-15.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">If I sound combative or if I am
insulting you, I am sorry, but as a minister’s wife, I see daily the damage
Christians are doing to our religion with these kinds of arguments. We are
losing a generation of Americans because of the flawed ways we keep engaging in
these conversations. Our God is a God of mercy and a God of facts. It is long
past time to retire our empty piety and start engaging in helpful conversations
that might lead to a cure for the insidious fear we all live with after so many
years of breaking news that yet another shooter has taken away more of our
children, our neighbors, our countrymen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">*This information is from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Get-Well-Soon-Historys-Plagues/dp/1627797467/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1518819319&sr=8-1&keywords=get+well+soon+book" target="_blank">Get Well Soon: History's Worst Plagues and
the Heroes Who Fought Them</a><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-32736034368026861652017-08-15T21:21:00.002-05:002017-08-15T21:21:28.842-05:00Thoughts on Charlottesville<div class="MsoNormal">
I am the great-great-granddaughter of a Confederate soldier.
My great-grandmother was not permitted to wear blue dresses because her father
hated the color of the Union army and did not want his daughters clad in its hue in
his presence.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I keep hearing from the Charlottesville protesters on the
news, our president, and various friends and family on social media that the
events of the past weekend were about preserving heritage. The Confederacy is
in fact a part of my heritage, so I have as much right as anyone to cling to
the monuments that pay homage to that heritage. However, I fervently believe
that they should each be removed from their places of honor. Here’s why.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The men honored in Confederate memorials are not patriots of
our country (like George Washington). In fact, they fought our country and were
enemies of the United States in the deadliest war of our history. And although
I’ve heard it argued my whole life that their cause was about more than just
slavery, the fact that slavery was any part of their cause makes it completely
unjustifiable. They were a nation and a military fighting to maintain a
lifestyle made possible by the hard work of the humans they owned. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When I think of the Confederate veteran in my family tree, I
don’t feel pride. Instead, I feel mostly sad, sad that my family was
shaped by and perpetuated a culture that devalued humans so severely and sad
that this fact led my ancestor to fight for such a lousy cause. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And while this sadness is plenty of reason for me to want to
see these memorials disappear from our capitals and college campuses, it is far
more important they be removed out of respect for our Black countrymen and
women. If the men memorialized in these statues had won their war, the
great-great grandfathers of my Black peers would not have been emancipated from
slavery. How can we possibly continue to place the Confederacy on a pedestal
and still look our Black neighbors in the eyes?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Counter-protesting white supremacists and Nazis who are
protesting the removal of these monuments is not “alt-left.” The tag “alt”
suggests fringe movements. In a country where all people are created equal,
there is nothing fringe about calling out racism and bigotry. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My family history in the Confederacy is in many ways a
burden. I must bear the fact that I come from people who chose the wrong side
when they were faced with their generation’s battle between good and evil. I do
not want my descendants to feel burdened by my actions today. That is why,
despite not wanting to jump into these conversations, I find myself writing this post. By speaking out against racism today, those of us whose ancestors fought to preserve slavery can participate in God's work of redemption in this horribly broken world.<o:p></o:p></div>
Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-42863149057595262812017-07-21T12:59:00.001-05:002017-07-21T12:59:14.016-05:00Lydia Turns 5The first year of Lydia's life, her ears stuck out so far that I could put my index fingers behind each one, and with the slightest movement, make them dance to goofy songs I'd sing to her. We spent hours doing that.<br />
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When she was one, Lydia went through her goth phase, during which she would dismiss anyone who tried to make her smile or laugh with an exaggerated, disappointed sigh. She was both a preacher's kid and the world's meanest baby, a combination that was comic gold for me and BJ.<br />
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Three weeks after Lydia turned two, Violet was born. Lydia fell in love, put away her sighs, and became a miraculously happy child.<br />
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At three, Lydia introduced us to her imaginary friend, Jimmy. He has become a permanent and ever-present fixture in our family, so much so that when I asked Violet what we should name the new baby when I was pregnant with Finn, she confidently said, "Jimmy!"<br />
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At four, Lydia fell in love with Luke Skywalker after obsessively watching <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9t-slLl30E" target="_blank">THIS </a>Bad Lip Reading video a thousand times. Thankfully, Luke Skywalker and Jimmy became good friends, so it kept the drama to a minimum.<br />
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With Lydia in our family, we are constantly either totally exasperated or laughing uncontrollably. She is the energy around which we all revolve. No one has ever made me laugh more, and we all know that in her, the enormous personality of BJ Gensic has finally met it's match. I can't wait to see what our little spit-fire does at the age of five!Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-73233352117735416262017-06-17T10:57:00.001-05:002017-06-17T10:57:35.018-05:00Finn's Story<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, Finn Ignatius Gensic turns a month old. I can’t
decide if the month flew by or if it crawled. I don’t know if I’m exhilarated
or completely drained. All I know is that it has been quite a month.<o:p></o:p></div>
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During the second week of May, I went to my 36 week prenatal
visit for this pregnancy that up to that point had been relatively uneventful.
The doctor mentioned that my fundal height was a little low, so he scheduled me
for a growth scan the following Monday, May 15. <o:p></o:p></div>
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During the ultrasound, I made small talk with the tech, but
I could tell that something wasn’t right. There was a tension on the tech’s
face that I couldn’t ignore. I was taken to a room for a private consultation
with the doctor. Private consultations are never something you hope for in a pregnancy.
He told me that the baby was 5 weeks behind in growth, and they didn’t know
why. At a follow-up scan the next day, the tech told me that she estimated the
baby was only 3 pounds. I was scheduled for an appointment with a high-risk
pregnancy doctor in Norman on the 17<sup>th</sup>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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However, on the evening of the 16<sup>th</sup>, I went in to
the labor and delivery unit here in Ardmore because I was spotting. I informed
the nurses that it was probably nothing, but I was a nervous wreck, and could
they please check me out. I expected to be home within the hour. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was hooked up to the monitors that are standard during
labor and delivery. As I was lying there, I kept having Braxton Hicks
contractions, and after some of the contractions, Finn’s heart would
decelerate. Out of concern, they sent me for another ultrasound in the
emergency room. Through that midnight ultrasound, we were finally able to
determine that my placenta was giving out on Finn.<o:p></o:p></div>
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During the whole night, I was terrified. I could hear Finn’s
heart beat, and the decelerations were agony to listen to. By the next morning,
BJ and I with the guidance of a warm and reassuring nurse had decided that we
wanted a c-section, and we wanted it soon. When my doctor came in, he had
reached the same conclusion. He said that it would take him about an hour to
get his surgical “A-team” together. He wanted to have the best because of the
high-risk nature of this delivery, so we agreed to wait an hour. He then asked
BJ if he would like to go on the helicopter with Finn if he had to be flown
out. In that moment, I realized how much danger Finn was in. <o:p></o:p></div>
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An hour later, the nurse who had been with me all morning
put an arm around my shoulder and walked me to the OR. An incredibly kind
anesthesiologist explained to me the process of the epidural since I had never
had one, and then he did a wonderful job of prepping me. Soon after, our
pediatrician, my doctor, and BJ arrived for the operation.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As I laid on the operating table, I kept silently mouthing
three words to God: “David and Goliath.” I didn’t know how to pray eloquently
in that moment of incredible fear, but I knew that David was small like my
Finn, and I knew he had faced a seemingly insurmountable challenge with God’s
support. I figured that if I couldn’t come up with my own words on Finn’s
behalf, I would just pray that story for him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Within minutes of the operation starting, the doctor pulled
Finn out, and it only took a few moments for him to belt out a loud, beautiful
scream. Our pediatrician gave him high Apgar scores, and said that the
helicopter would be able to return without Finn. He only weighed 3 lbs. and 10
oz., but he was in good shape.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The next eight days, Finn and I spent in the hospital here
in Ardmore. He couldn’t be discharged until he reached 4 pounds. It was a
difficult week for me. BJ couldn’t spend much time with us because he had
laryngitis that he didn’t want to expose Finn to. And I was devastated by the
idea that my body had failed Finn. He was so small, it was difficult to feel
anything but fear and bewilderment: how could this have happened to our baby?<o:p></o:p></div>
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On the day that Finn reached 4 pounds and we were going to
get discharged, a nurse came to get him for his assessment. Normally,
assessments took only about 10 minutes, but 45 minutes went by when our
pediatrician walked into the room. He said that Finn had looked dusky to the
nurse, so she had checked Finn’s oxygen and heart rate, and he was showing
signs of distress. They had no idea what was wrong with Finn, but our
pediatrician wanted to have him flown to Cook’s Children’s Hospital in Fort
Worth so that we could get answers fast. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I was so shocked at first, that I couldn’t cry. Numb, I
called BJ to tell him. He said that we had been feeling better that morning,
and he had been about to leave for the hospital so that he could hold Finn for
the first time. At this point, I was able to cry.<o:p></o:p></div>
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BJ arrived soon after I called, and we waited in the
hospital room for more information. We were unable to be with Finn while we
waited for the flight crew and while he was assessed. About 2 hours after we
initially learned everything, there was a knock on our door. It was the flight
crew with Finn in an enormous incubator on a stretcher. Finn had multiple tubes
already connected to him. I don’t know how to put into words what that moment
felt like without leaning on clichés. I’ll just say that my heart broke.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The flight crew gave me a “lovey”, a cloth toy to touch and
keep in my shirt so that it would smell like me and so that Finn would have it
in the hospital. They explained to us where we needed to go, and told us to
drive carefully because speeding wouldn’t help anyone. I was quietly weeping as
I stood next to Finn. Pushing the stretcher was a man with a mustache who
looked like my dad. As we said our goodbyes to Finn, the man whispered to me
repeatedly that Finn would be okay. I decided that since he looked so much like
my dad, I would try my hardest to believe him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The next 12 days in the NICU were a steady stream of
terrifying test that our little Finn had to endure. Through it all, he ate and
put on weight like a champ. The NICU has a funny way of turning the most laid
back mothers and fathers into quintessential helicopter parents, and BJ and I
were certainly no exception. We hovered over Finn, and rarely put him down. In
the end, it was determined that the growth restriction he had suffered in my
womb had put more stress on his body that originally thought, and he just
needed more time to put on weight and stabilize.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Twenty days after his dramatic appearance, we were blessed
to bring our Finn home. The adrenaline from the experience has not entirely
subsided, but we are starting to feel more normal. Finn weighed 5 lbs. 14 oz.
at his check this week, so he is doing what he is supposed to be doing. One of
the most trying parts of the experience was being separated from Shepherd,
Lydia, and Violet, so their crazy chaos is a welcomed presence these days.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The emotions from the past month are still raw. I can’t
think about telling Finn goodbye before he was flown to Cooks without crying.
His lovey is in our room, and I feel mostly anxiety when I look at it because
of the associated memories. But I refuse to throw it away because I know that a
day will come when I will smile at those memories.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have thought a lot this past month about what I will tell
Finn about his origin story. I prayed constantly throughout this pregnancy from
the moment I knew Finn existed for his health and safety. However, I don’t look
at what happened and think God answered “no” to those prayers. I don’t believe
God smited us with inter-uterine growth restriction (IUGR) to teach us some
lesson or test us in some way. I think the IUGR happened because crap happens
sometimes. That is just the way the world is. <o:p></o:p></div>
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What I see when I look at Finn’s story isn’t an unanswered
prayer. Rather, what I see is that when my son got dealt a lousy hand by life
circumstances, God played for Finn’s team. I see a thousand different ways God
protected and shaped Finn despite a sorry excuse for a placenta. Finn’s story
is a story of what God can do for the little guy even when the odds are stacked
against him. It is a David and Goliath story.<o:p></o:p></div>
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During our twenty days in the hospital and NICU, I often
felt like I couldn’t see God. It was as if I was cloaked in the darkest of
fogs, a fog built entirely of fear and pain. I told myself that he was present
in the nightmare I was going through because he had been present at so many
other times in my life, but I couldn’t feel him there. The final night we were
in the NICU, BJ and I ran to Target to get a few things we needed for Finn’s
expected discharge the next morning. On the way, Fort Worth was adorned by the
thickest and most brilliant rainbow I have ever witnessed. Perhaps this is
far-fetched, but indulge me for a moment. When I saw that rainbow, a symbol of
God’s relationship with humanity, I knew without a doubt that God had been with
us the whole time, even when I had felt completely isolated. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As the pictures below shows, Finn has come a long way in a
month. We could not be more proud of all he has already accomplished in his
little life, and I feel so deeply blessed to be his mom.</div>
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-83202382922438789482016-07-22T21:18:00.000-05:002016-07-22T21:18:01.151-05:00Lydia turns 4Before I get started, let me say that I realize I've only done one post this year. As it turns out, being the mom of a 5, 3, and 1 year old while also trying to occasionally write for our local newspaper, support BJ's final stretch to his doctorate, and keep up a house is all a lot more time-consuming than I thought it would be. Who would have thought? But I miss writing here terribly, and so for Lydia's birthday, why not?<br />
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I'm going to keep it simple and write the 5 coolest things about Lydia at this stage:<br />
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1. She makes us laugh. A lot. All the time. She is constantly saying things we don't expect and that border on the profane. A recent favorite quote on the topic of her soon-to-be-born cousin: "Uncle Bro doesn't even have a single boob to feed his baby. Not a single boob."<br />
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2. Her imaginary friend, Jimmy, totally rocks. He's been with us for over a year now, and oh boy, is he busy. Throughout this year, he has hung out with monkeys in our oak trees, married Lydia at a plethora of weddings, worked with BJ at church, and been chased by a green monster while he was trying to grocery shop. Thankfully, the green monster left footprints, so Lydia was able to track him down.<br />
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3. She is a budding fashionista. Seriously, she changes her clothes about 10 times a day, and she packs multiple outfits into every bag she can find so that she can carry clothes around with her all the time. It's serious.<br />
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4. She continues to be the girly-est girl around. Think babies, bunnies, princesses, teacup puppies, ballet, makeup, and more babies. She loves it all!<br />
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5. It is quite possible that of the entire Pierce family, Lydia is the most excited person about the approaching arrival of her cousin. I am including the baby's parents in this statement.<br />
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I could list so much more, but that is a brief snapshot of what a special little girl we have!Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-6988008947845471632016-02-19T18:38:00.002-06:002016-02-19T18:38:33.118-06:00A New CousinHere is a little gem: Shepherd and Lydia finding out they're going to be a cousin.<br />
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Just for the record, I think the most important thing for everyone to remember is that I'm going to be an aunt. Yep, that is really the point :)Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-83163733443399408852015-12-24T07:51:00.003-06:002015-12-24T07:53:45.913-06:00On Christmas Eve<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">On Christmas Eve, my husband and I will awaken
our three children a few hours after we have put them to bed. We will wrap them
in fleece blankets, buckle them into their car seats, and drive to the First
Christian Church on </span><st1:street><st1:address><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Maxwell Street</span></st1:address></st1:street><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: white;">There, our 5 year-old son will promptly fall
back to sleep on the meager cushion of a cold, hard church pew, our 3 year-old
daughter will vibrate with the excitement and novelty of this strange
night-time adventure, and our 15 month-old daughter will doggedly try to escape
my grasp so that she can run up and down the red, thickly-carpeted aisles
because it is a general rule of thumb that if she is awake, she is moving.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: white;">After settling into the semi-darkness of our
towering, candle-lit sanctuary, a guitar will start gently strumming and the
voices of dozens of people will join in Christmas carols. In between the songs,
we will read from the sacred texts of Matthew and Luke, the story of our God
taking on human flesh, becoming the fragile infant Jesus in our broken and dangerous
world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">About ten minutes before </span><st1:time hour="0" minute="0"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">midnight</span></st1:time><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">, all of the congregants
will line up in the center aisle and slowly move forward to take their turn
receiving the bread that is the body of Christ broken for us and the wine that
is the blood of Christ spilled for us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: white;">Once filled, each sleepy worshipper will receive
a candle in a small plastic cup whose humble job it is to protect our lush
carpet from drops of wax. With our candles in hand, we will line the edges of
our sanctuary, and my husband, the minister, will take the largest candle on
our Advent table, the Christ candle. He will use the Christ candle to light a
person’s candle on each side of the church. Those of us on the edges will share
that flame until our sanctuary is surrounded with the light of Christ. And
then, with the delicate glow of candlelight flickering across our faces, we
will sing “Silent Night.” As the last note fades, we will blow out our candles,
re-bundle the children, and drive back to our beds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: white;">Over 2000 years ago, humanity was going about
its business with its long-established rhythm. People were born, they grew up,
they worked and struggled, they had families of their own, they died. Nations
rose, they warred, they ruled, they fell. And then a baby was born, and he
interrupted everything. He changed the way we do and think about the menial
parts of our lives because we suddenly knew that God himself had lived a human
life; he reframed the very concept of power by showing that greater power can
lie within an infant than in a nation; and he gave life in a world filled with
death.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Christmas Eve is a busy day. It is filled with
good things: gift wrapping, last-minute shopping, cooking, spending time with
family. But I would encourage everyone in the spirit of the great interruption
that was the birth of Christ to interrupt your Christmas Eve with one of the
many Christmas Eve services held in churches all over </span><st1:city><st1:place><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Ardmore</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">. The First Christian
Church holds ours at </span><st1:time hour="11" minute="0"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">11:00</span></st1:time><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"> in the evening, but
several others are held earlier in the day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: white;">If you do attend, you will likely be stunned
with the impact of the event captured in the nativity scene in your living
room. While you hear the Scriptures read, look at the infants held in the arms
of the mothers around you; our God was once that vulnerable. While you sing the
sacred songs, look at all the ordinary people whose voices are filling the
church; God entrusted mere humans to raise the once-infant Jesus into
adulthood. And when you go to take communion, look at the trembling hands of
the elderly people taking their portions; Jesus was born so that death would
not be the end of their stories.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt;">Allow all of the significance of the Christmas
Eve service to emanate into your Christmas day. Let it enrich the gift giving,
the gift receiving, the fellowship with family and friends, the rich food and
the even richer traditions. And with this deepened perspective, may you have a
blessed and merry Christmas.</span></div>
Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-38293292460505037652015-11-17T13:22:00.001-06:002015-11-17T13:40:59.606-06:00A Christian Response to Syrian RefugeesOut of respect for BJ's position as a clergyman, I rarely state political opinions of any sort. Trust me, I have opinions; I just keep them to myself. But I can't stay silent about a particular issue going on right now. I can't not respond to the rejection of Syrian refugees by states all across America, including my home state of Texas and my current state of residence, Oklahoma.<br />
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Being the spouse of a minister, I am constantly standing on the sidelines of discussions about Christianity and America. This year, that discussion has been dominated by concerns over same-sex marriage. Christians in our neck of the woods see same-sex marriage as the greatest threat to the soul of America. At the same time, Christians all over America, including many who are in positions of prominence, are calling for the rejection of non-Christian refugees. In my opinion, the latter issue is a true battle for the soul of America.<br />
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Homosexuality is mentioned six times in the Bible. In the grand scheme of the Biblical text, it is pretty insignificant. However, taking care of the widow, the orphan, the oppressed, the foreigner, taking care of <em>these</em>, is mentioned hundreds of times. In 2013, I read through the Bible with a reading group, and I was surprised to find that the tirades of the prophets were not admonishments of the sins I'd been raised to believe were the worst offenses (adultery, fornication, drunkenness, et cet.). But rather, God's anger voiced through the prophets was anger over their negligence of the poor and of the oppressed. In other words, if you want to make God really angry, then turn your back on the people who need your help.<br />
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And on a purely practical level, if our goal is to combat terrorism, than our greatest weapon is not a drone. Rather, it is education and the alleviation of fear and poverty. When I see the pictures of the Syrian refugees, what I see is children. Lots of children. Children as vulnerable and as moldable as Shepherd and Lydia and Violet. If we give them a safe place to grow and to be educated, then the chances of them being radicalized dramatically diminishes. When we act out of hope and love, then the terrorists lose.<br />
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To close, here are a few verses that I believe speak to this situation.<br />
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“He defends the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigners residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt” (Deuteronomy 10:18-19).<br />
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"For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me." Matthew 25:35<br />
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And let us never forget that our Savior was once a refugee: "Now when they had gone, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, 'Get up! Take the Child and His mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is going to search for the Child to destroy Him.' So Joseph got up and took the Child and His mother while it was still night, and left for Egypt. He remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: 'OUT OF EGYPT I CALLED MY SON.'" Matthew 2:13-15Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-80877485676827600702015-11-13T22:03:00.001-06:002015-11-13T22:03:10.838-06:00Update: ShepherdHere is what's up with Shepherd.<br />
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1. Shepherd's life currently revolves around school. He still loves school, and is always excited to go. Everyday when he comes home, he tells me excitedly that he earned a jewel that day for perfect behavior. I mean every day. This is, of course, great that he is doing so well, but after spending a morning at school with him a couple of weeks ago, I've come to realize that he is so focused on correct behavior that I'm not sure if he is having any fun. While the other kids were running and playing before the tardy bell, he was sitting criss-cross-applesauce on his assigned carpet square with his hands neatly folded in his lap and his lips pursed together. Much to my surprise, Shepherd appears to have a lot of me in him when it comes to school, and I think that my job as his mom might actually be to encourage him to lighten up and have some fun every once and a while.<br />
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2. Speaking of Shepherd being a lot like me when I was little, every morning Shepherd asks me if he has P.E. that day, and on the days that I answer "yes," he always responds by groaning, "I hate P.E." I was that kid. The one who dreaded P.E. all day while everyone else seemed to look forward to it. I feel your pain, Shep.<br />
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3. When we attempt to play sports at home, Shepherd's personality really shines. During a family game of basketball the other night, Shepherd hardly played and instead walked around telling us all the rules and the different ways in which we weren't following them correctly. <br />
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4. Shepherd has decided on a wife. A couple of weeks ago during Sunday lunch, Shepherd said, "I'm going to marry a girl with big red lips." BJ and I were a little shocked and laughed a bit, but we didn't think too much about it. Later that night, we told our friend, Megan, the story. She started asking questions, the conversation going something like this: <br />
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Megan: Shepherd, does this girl wear big red heels?<br />
Shepherd: (starting to giggle lightly) Yes.<br />
Megan: Does she have long red hair?<br />
Shepherd: (giggling a little louder) Yes.<br />
Megan: Is it Rhianna*.<br />
Shepherd: (giggling uncontrollably and as red as a tomato) YES!!!<br />
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* (a very pretty 20 year old from church)<br />
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4. In fact, Shepherd has quite an eye for the ladies. After having a young, attractive substitute teacher today, Shepherd excitedly told me on the way home, "Mom, she was so pretty! She was even prettier than you!"<br />
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5. When Shepherd comes home from school, this is what he a Violet do.<br />
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6. Shepherd loves both of his sisters, although he is only willing to admit love for the younger one. Lydia is his playmate and partner in crime, but she is also the one he fights with over toys and space and tv shows and the list goes on. When he came home from school today, Lydia told him that she had missed him. I said, "Oh Shepherd, that is so nice of Lydia. Did you miss her?" He gave a firm no, and when I started to chastise him for his rudeness, he said, "Mom, I was busy missing Violet!" Oh, siblings!<br />
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7. And last but not least, here are some pictures of our guy!<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-5297648383020469262015-11-11T13:13:00.002-06:002015-11-11T22:26:24.743-06:00Update: LydiaObviously, since Shepherd started school, I'm having a hard time keeping up with this blog. Between running kids around and trying to get done as much housework as possible anytime Violet naps, I never sit down at the computer. But I know that I have family who are anxious to here updates on their three favorite grandchildren/great-grandchildren/nieces/nephew, so I thought I'd carve out some time this week to focus a blogpost on each child and give an update. Here is Lydia in 8 points.<br />
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1. Lydia has enthusiastically leaped into the world of imaginary friends. Her main squeeze is Jimmy, a boy with whom she loves to dance. He also naps in Shepherd's bed during her nap time. Sometimes she'll lay her head on my shoulder and tell me to be quiet because Jimmy is singing for us. She also has a pet squirel named FiFi whose nemesis is Shepherd. We have witnessed some pretty strange sibling arguments over that one.<br />
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2. At the age of 3, Lydia is still the girly-est girl ever. It is not unusual for her to say sentences in normal conversation that have any combination of 2 or 3 of the following words: fairies, princess, pink, unicorn, baby, ponies, and pretty. <br />
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3. While Lydia continues to be girly, she also embraces some of her brother's boyish games. For example, she is sometimes a superhero named (of course) Super Lydia. Last weekend, Super Lydia saved a hoard of crying sheep from...something. I'm not sure what.<br />
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4. In a fit of jealousy over Violet having crayons named after her, Lydia has declared that pink will now be called "Lydia pink".<br />
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5. Lydia is taking dance lessons where she is sprinkled with fairy dust weekly. The "fairy dust" is some type of spray-on glitter that REFUSES to wash out of her hair, so Lydia is always sparkly.<br />
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6. We never know what Lydia is going to say next. This past Sunday, she informed both BJ and I on separate occasions that when she grows up, she is going to have bigger boobs than me. When telling me, she elaborated by saying that they would "reach for the sun." After a moment of stunned silence, all I could come up with was, "Sweetie, this conversation is getting weird."<br />
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7. At a doctor's appointment today for flu shots, Lydia asked BJ if he would pick her up so that she could see the doctor's "pretty eyes." Our pediatrician declared her his favorite patient.<br />
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8. My mom loves to laugh and say, "BJ has met his match in that little girl." She is right. Case in point: The other morning while the kids were eating cereal and BJ and I were running around the kitchen preparing our breakfasts, Shepherd and Lydia got in some ridiculous argument, the details of which weren't even worth remembering. BJ, always a charmer before coffee, finally broke down and yelled out in exasperation, "Who cares?!?!" Lydia paused from yelling at her brother, looked at BJ, and in a completely matter-of-fact tone said, "Me."<br />
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And in conclusion, here are some recent photos of BJ's match.<br />
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<br />Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-64664055232742953252015-10-15T15:42:00.000-05:002015-10-15T15:42:17.606-05:00Shepherd Turns FiveDoing a 301 piece Lego set after school while wearing his birthday crown. Pretty much sums up why I love this spectacularly nerdy, smart, creative, and hilarious little boy! Happy birthday, Shepherd!<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-18669136489489451902015-09-13T21:15:00.002-05:002015-09-13T21:15:55.398-05:00A trip to the zooLast summer, we went to the Frank Buck Zoo 10 days before I had Violet. This is me and Violet then...<br />
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and this is Violet at the zoo about 13 months later:<br />
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I am left to conclude that babies really do grow up way too fast. So in honor of capturing the little moments while my children are at these precious little ages, here are way too many pictures of our trip to the zoo.<br />
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Preparing three kids under the age of 5 to go to the zoo is a task in and of itself. I've been anxiously awaiting the day when Violet's hair gets long enough for me to play with it, and during zoo prep, I decided that this was the day. After giggling over the cuteness of these pigtails for about ten minutes, one fell out and I was forced to admit that her hair isn't there, yet.<br />
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When we arrived, I asked my family for pictures to capture the excitement of the beginning of our adventure. Violet ignored me, but Shepherd (I love this kid) is always enthusiastic when the camera comes out.<br />
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Lydia pursed her lips together in defiance when I asked for a smile. That's Lydi.<br />
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BJ merely gave me the you're-embarrassing-me look while he walked the kids in.</div>
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And when I decided to join the picture, he pretended he didn't know me.<br />
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After the flamingos, alligators, and several small animals, we finally got to the part of the zoo are kids were eagerly anticipating: THE GOATS! Feeding goats is one of those things in life that is indisputably fun. Seriously, don't try to dispute me on that. Here is Shepherd having some indisputable fun.<br />
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Lydia was overwhelmed by the cuteness of these goats. In a voice made unnaturally high-pitched by the exuberance the goats incited in her, she said "Oh, baby goats! You are so very cute!!!"<br />
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Up to this point, Violet was pretty happy to hang out with the folks.<br />
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But then she decided she needed to see these goats for herself.<br />
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They brought her much joy and happiness, as they do to all human beings with hearts.<br />
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This is just a group shot because I love this group.<br />
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Eventually, Violet decided she needed to get in on the feeding. Unfortunately, she can not be trusted to not eat goat food, so we had to say no.<br />
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After the zoo, we went to the playground by the zoo. There was much sliding down slides...<br />
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...and of course, running up slides.<br />
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Finally, it was time for the train ride! BJ set with the older two behind me and Violet, so I immediately got out the camera and started snapping. This is the "smile" Lydia gave me when I requested a smile. She's very natural about it all.<br />
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I then asked BJ to snap a few of me a Violet.<br />
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Shepherd photo bombed. Big surprise there.<br />
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And then a woman several rows behind (a woman who would probably be a dear friend if we ever lived in the same town) told her husband to "get up a go take a picture of that family." I was grateful. And thus ended our trip to the zoo.<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-57740863906665596062015-09-07T17:40:00.000-05:002015-09-07T17:40:17.022-05:00Hanging out with my cutiesShepherd photo-bombed our matching-sisters picture. I think he made it even better!<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-74605468363417135572015-08-28T10:08:00.003-05:002015-08-28T10:08:56.583-05:00I just got the Fall edition of <i>Southern Oklahoma Living</i>, and look what I found in the center!<br />
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I actually didn't know they were publishing one of my pieces, so it came as a pleasant surprise. What is most exciting is that they put a large picture of Mister Rogers. Who doesn't love Mister Rogers? I'm always happy to share a little wisdom from the man in the cardigan.Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-90682615661386758312015-08-22T11:59:00.002-05:002015-08-22T11:59:59.953-05:00Lunches Week 1One of the many things I've looked forward to about Shepherd going to school is getting to pack his lunch. I know it is crazy, but it is so much fun thinking of different combinations of kid-friendly food and ways to present it that are fun. So just for the heck of it, here is week one of lunches for Shepherd<br />
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MONDAY<br />
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Day 1 was a cashew butter and honey sandwich, snap pea crisps, pluots, and cashews with chocolate chips for dessert. He hates peanut butter, so cashew butter was my attempt to have an easy protein. Unfortunately, he didn't love the sandwich, but he did clean the rest of the meal.<br />
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TUESDAY<br />
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Ever since Shepherd heard he'd get to take a lunch to school everyday, he has begged for spaghetti and meatballs. I added corn, green beans, and dried cherries to the mix. He loved it!<br />
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WEDNESDAY<br />
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This was definitely his favorite lunch: Tofu and corn scramble, romaine lettuce, whole wheat crackers, and a strawberry fruit leather. He devoured every bite!<br />
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THURSDAY<br />
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Sandwich again! But this time it was Nutella and he ate every bite! To go the with sweeter sandwich, I chose healthier sides: carrot sticks, pretzels, and cashews.<br />
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FRIDAY<br />
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And to end the week, Shepherd's favorite noodle salad, yolk-less boiled egg (he HATES yolks), sliced apples, and dark chocolate granola for dessert. He ate all the eggs and salad, but left the apples and granola for me. Weird kid.<br />
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Here is that weird and awesome child on his first day in his classroom! Yay for Pre-K!<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-19555434133480010782015-08-17T22:22:00.001-05:002015-08-17T22:22:57.384-05:00From the Mouth of LydiaToday was a big day. Shepherd had his first day of Pre-K, and of course, he LOVED it! Lydia had her first day of dance class, as well. She seemed to have a lot of fun, and more importantly, I had a lot of fun dressing her for the class. Here are some pictures of all of the excitement.<br />
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As Lydia is getting acclimated to the 3's, she is talking more, and oh boy, she has things to say. Here are just a couple of my favorites from this past week.<br />
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After bath time with BJ:<br />
Lydia: "We don't show everyone our private parts."<br />
BJ: "That's right. We don't."<br />
Lydia: "I keep mine hidden in my underwear."<br />
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And on the morning of our shopping trip for dance shoes:<br />BJ: "Lydia, we are going to go today to buy you dance shoes!"<br />
Lydia (in complete and total seriousness): "And a dress. And a crown."<br />
BJ: "We'll start with the shoes."<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-23969017342041985812015-08-10T19:43:00.000-05:002015-08-10T19:43:05.784-05:00One Day to Go: We just couldn't wait to party!Due to several scheduling conflicts, we ended up celebrating Violet's birthday a day early. Since I spent the whole day before she was born in labor and she was only born on the 11th because the doctor was running late, it seems some how appropriate. Here are pictures of the big party!<br />
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I came across these owl decorations at Hobby Lobby, so we went with that for the party.<br />
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Here is the cake I made for Violet. Of course, for the adults I just made devil's food cake with my Grandma's fudge frosting. You can't beat fudge frosting.<br />
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Shepherd could barely contain his excitement over the presence of unwrapped gifts in our home. He may have gotten in trouble once or twice (or twenty times) for messing with them.<br />
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Right before it was time to party, we had a wardrobe change. It was time for the outfit Aunt Marcy bought for the big occasion!<br />
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Violet was pretty impressed with us singing "Happy Birthday"!<br />
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Sampling...<br />
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She decided she like it, so she picked up the whole plate and stuck her face in it.<br />
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That made her happy.<br />
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Lydia decided the birthday girl needed a crown. <br />
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Finally, it was gift time!<br />
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Violet spent most of the gift up-wrapping time crawling around trying to climb stuff. Big surprise there.<br />
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She did take time to model a head band. She was adorable.<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-26470149336663129612015-08-09T08:12:00.000-05:002015-08-09T08:13:34.188-05:00Two Days to Go: The last Sunday before Violet's birth<b style="font-weight: normal;"></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">This Sunday morning before Violet's first birthday, I find myself reminiscing about her labor and the church service I spent breathing my way through contractions.</span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">My first two labors were about as easy as labors come. With Shepherd and Lydia, I labored at home in relative relaxation for a long while, but then I went to the hospital and had them each in an hour and forty minutes. I expected a similar experience with my third. Violet had other plans.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">At four in the afternoon on Saturday, I went into labor. I had seen this show before, so I knew exactly when it had really started. I happily labored through the evening, excited to meet my baby girl sometime the next day. At 3:30 in the morning, I was certain it was time to go to the hospital. Upon my arrival, the nurses got me settled into a labor and delivery room.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The hour and forty minute mark came, and then it went. I had no baby to show for all my laboring. By 8:30, contractions had slowed to about two an hour, and I was at my wit’s end. After a completely sleepless night, I demanded that someone take the I.V. out of my arm and let me go home because I was starving and I was irritated. No one argued, and I was eating a fast-food breakfast while BJ drove me home within the hour.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Being Sunday morning, BJ rushed around and prepared for church as soon as we got home. Sleepless night or not, he was determined to deliver his sermon. I sadly resigned myself to sitting at home and timing the contractions that were once again coming close together because women aren’t supposed to go to church while they are in labor, right?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">But while looking at the crumpled sheets of my unmade bed, the discarded stop watch that I was so tired of monitoring, and my adorable children who my mother was preparing for church, I knew I couldn’t face the morning alone. So five minutes before the organ would start playing the opening song, I threw on maternity jeans I was now stretching to their limit, a top I had worn through three pregnancies, and a little make-up because I am a Texan and we don’t leave the house without makeup on even if we’re in labor, and I headed to the church.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I don’t remember what songs were sung that morning, and I don’t remember what my husband’s sermon was about. I do remember the surprised faces and the good-natured joking of my church family as the laboring preacher’s wife arrived, and I remember pausing mid-song every ten minutes or so as a contraction passed. I also remember that each song, each prayer, each scripture read seemed a little more significant as I anticipated the new life I would soon bring to our church.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Many people think of church as a break from life, a place the weak escape to because they can’t handle real life. But if you look around, you will likely find that life is actually happening at church. I couldn’t postpone my labor, but I could bring my labor to church with me. Ideally, church isn’t merely an escape from everything, but rather a place where you bring all of the hopes and struggles of your mundane, everyday life and find them suddenly endowed with greater meaning by the worship of a Creator God and by the rich connections within a church family.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: inherit; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">At 12:25 Monday morning, I finally gave birth to my beautiful daughter. It was a long, long, long time coming. But despite being my longest labor, it was also exceedingly special because when I was at my most frustrated and fatigued, I was able to go to church. A year later, that fact serves as a reminder that church isn’t merely where I take a time out from life, but rather it is where I take all that is significantly joyful and/or painful in my life and lay it before my church family and my God. </span></div>
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</span></span></b><br />Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-27644670577630064312015-08-08T12:16:00.000-05:002015-08-08T12:16:44.453-05:00Three Days to Go: Violet WalkingShepherd and Lydia were both 13 months when they started walking. Violet, in her never-ending mission to get into as much danger as possible, managed to beat her older siblings by two months. She started walking at 11 months, and now she has pretty much given up crawling all together. Uncle Bro is wanting a video of her walking, so here she is!<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-7954487168015602062015-08-07T20:47:00.002-05:002015-08-07T20:47:51.937-05:00Four Days to Go: Violet's PersonalitySince three kids keep a mommy pretty busy, I haven't been able to post as much about the development of Violet's personality as I did about Shepherd and Lydia. So to make up for that, here are the three attributes that have most stood out about Violet this past year.<br />
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1. In stark contrast to another little Gensic girl I happen to know, Violet is very friendly. She lets people other than BJ and myself hold her. Where that other aforementioned girl offered sighs and cold glares in response to people's smiles, Violet simply smiles in return. <br />
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2. Violet is also a pretty content person. She doesn't seem to stress out too much. Unless she's in a car seat. She hates car seats with a ferocity that is truly mind-numbing for the other passengers.<br />
She has made us scared to leave our home.<br />
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3. When I think of Violet, the first words that come to mind are "crazy little dare devil." Perhaps, these are the words I think of because I spend 90 percent of my waking hours saving her from certain injury. She is full of ideas about things she can do. Practically all of them are bad ideas. And most of them involve climbing. Climbing toilets. Climbing rocking chairs. Climbing couches. Climbing beds. Just climbing. She has even figured out how to move toys near objects she wants to climb so that she can use the toys as stairs. She's a genius, a crazy little genius.<br />
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So to close, here is a picture of Violet eating her toes, because you can never get too many pictures of Violet.<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-82629772503937037912015-08-06T07:00:00.000-05:002015-08-07T20:48:14.887-05:00Five Days to Go: Best PicturesAs the first birthday approaches, I always like to look back at the best pictures from my kids' first year. After much deliberation, I managed to whittle Violets down to the top 15 favorites. Here they are chronologically with a brief description of why they made the cut:<br />
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1. Because Violet made our grumpy, little Lydia so very happy.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rpu-9vRwugo/VcJjzMBt5QI/AAAAAAAADGs/FkUP-LAFuaE/s1600/Violet%2B045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rpu-9vRwugo/VcJjzMBt5QI/AAAAAAAADGs/FkUP-LAFuaE/s320/Violet%2B045.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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2. Because she slept in this little sleeper tied to a piano bench next to our bed for the first 3 months. It was sweet.<br />
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3. Because she is with one of the very special women we named her after, Grandma Beverly.<br />
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4. Because the very hungry caterpillar became very sleepy after all that Halloween business.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S3YEcXp45PQ/VcJkBsGB8gI/AAAAAAAADHA/3SEOF--35UM/s1600/costumes_carnival%2B017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S3YEcXp45PQ/VcJkBsGB8gI/AAAAAAAADHA/3SEOF--35UM/s320/costumes_carnival%2B017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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5. Because she is blessed.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9uUZuoguWas/VcJk1sfFuRI/AAAAAAAADIY/W8wGH98CB9k/s1600/thanksgiving2014%2B011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9uUZuoguWas/VcJk1sfFuRI/AAAAAAAADIY/W8wGH98CB9k/s320/thanksgiving2014%2B011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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6. Because this is the beginning of sisters becoming friends.<br />
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7. Because she is just cool<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AcLQScqgcMU/VcJkiF-VojI/AAAAAAAADH0/Q9KsmIcxUcY/s1600/new%2Bhouse%2B001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AcLQScqgcMU/VcJkiF-VojI/AAAAAAAADH0/Q9KsmIcxUcY/s320/new%2Bhouse%2B001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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8. Because we all like to eat.<br />
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9. Because daddies with little girls are so dang cute.<br />
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10. Because sleeping babies are also so dang cute.<br />
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11. Because teddy bears are HILARIOUS!<br />
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12. Because she is really, really pretty.<br />
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13. Because she is the girl version of this sweet boy.<br />
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14. Because it makes me laugh.<br />
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15. Because she started walking 2 months earlier than Shepherd or Lydia, and it is adorable to watch.<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-55299626203268708172015-08-05T13:39:00.003-05:002015-08-05T13:39:55.282-05:00The ArdmoreiteI've been meaning to put this post on my blog for a while, but I keep getting side tracked. What I wanted to write is a brief explanation of why I haven't been getting many posts up. Basically, I've been writing some for our local newspaper. It is really exciting having a broader readership, and I even got fan mail (that is what I'm calling a lovely letter I received, anyways)! Here is a picture of my first article from a couple of months back:<br />
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Since most of my writing time and energy is going in that direction, the poor old blog is getting neglected, but I'm hoping to do a series of birthday post for Violet next week just like I did for Shepherd and Lydia when they turned one. See you then!Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-38230170278616867722015-07-21T08:24:00.002-05:002015-07-21T08:24:41.356-05:00Lydia at 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mN80DcQUePk/Va5IClw_hbI/AAAAAAAADF0/9MWgUvUzDcY/s1600/ShepLydiVioletShoot%2B016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mN80DcQUePk/Va5IClw_hbI/AAAAAAAADF0/9MWgUvUzDcY/s400/ShepLydiVioletShoot%2B016.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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I can't believe Lydia Carol Gensic is turning three. I really can't. But she is, and I want to celebrate how awesome she is. So here is a list of the 10 coolest things about Lydia:<br />
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1. While this list is in no particular order, this is probably the coolest thing about Lydia: she was the easiest child to potty train in the history of children and potties. Here's how it went. While strolling around in Walmart one morning, we came across My Little Pony panties. We bought them. When we got home, she put them on and immediately started using the potty. And she was potty trained. <br />
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2. She loves books. I love books. I love Lydia. I love that Lydia loves books. It's all good. Here is a picture of her during nap time the other day:<br />
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She always looks at books while she is falling asleep, and on this particular day, she ended up taking her entire nap with the book she'd been looking at laying on her face. She must have fallen asleep mid-story.<br />
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3. She is Shepherd's "first friend." After spending all afternoon with the neighbor's visiting grandson, Shepherd kept telling BJ that he had been "playing with my third friend." When we finally asked him who his first two friends are, he said, "Lydia's my first friend, and Bliss is my second friend." (Bliss is our neighbors' daughter.) Just in case you're curious, he claims to have made a fourth friend the other day at the YMCA.<br />
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4. She's a daddy's girl. She always chooses to be in whatever room he is in. She want hims to take her to the potty for number 2 (a true sign of toddler love). She wants to swim on his back in the swimming pool. And she wants to run up to him every Sunday at church. <a href="http://picassoandtony.blogspot.com/2015/04/palm-sunday.html" target="_blank">This can sometimes be a issue.</a><br />
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5. She can take care of herself. When our neighbor's grandson can to town to visit, he spent his afternoons in our kiddy pool playing with Shepherd. The boys were ornery those afternoons anytime any girl came near the pool. Lydia, however, had no problem putting them in her place. She would point her finger at them, screech, "No! We don't do that!" And then get in the pool and play.<br />
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6. She is fun to dress. It's like I'm eight years old and I've got the doll of my dreams. And to make it even better, she really knows how to strike a pose. Case in point, this picture from the 4th of July:<br />
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7. She is fancy, hence the <a href="http://picassoandtony.blogspot.com/2015/07/lydias-fancy-nancy-birthday-party.html" target="_blank">Fancy Nancy party</a>. She changes her outfit (including accessories) at least 3 times a day. Have I ever mentioned how I'm daily drowning in a sea of laundry.<br />
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8. She encourages fanciness in those around her. I occasionally let her pick out Violet's clothes. When I do, this is what Violet ends up looking like on a Monday: <br />
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Yes, what you are seeing is glitter, ribbons, bling, satin flowers, and lots of ruffles. On a Monday.<br />
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9. You never know what she is going to say. The other day after Violet started crying incredibly loud because she didn't want to take the nap for which BJ had just laid her down, Lydia laughed and said, "Violet's crying." She then sighed contentedly and said, "I hate babies." Another crazy thing she recently said was while using the potty at a friends house. BJ was holding her up while she did her business, and she looked in his eyes and said seriously, "Don't worry, Dad. My butt is okay."<br />
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10. And to end, I'm going to simply let my brother and sister-in-law speak. This is the limerick they wrote for Lydia's birthday:<br />
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There once was a girl named Lydie,<br />
Who was so itty-bitty.<br />
Though in this small girl,<br />
Great furies unfurl,<br />
We still think she's sweet and pretty.Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-32860524120569512632015-07-19T22:20:00.002-05:002015-07-19T22:20:48.687-05:00Lydia's Fancy Nancy Birthday PartyLydia had her 3rd birthday party tonight. It is two days early, but alas, the things we must do for church board meetings.<br />
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It was a wonderful evening with friends. Lydia had a great time, and of course, I had a wonderful time decorating and getting ready! Here are some pictures:<br />
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<u>Pre-Party Family Pictures:</u> We had a little fun with the timer.<br />
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<u>The Decorations:</u> This year, I decided to go with a Fancy Nancy theme. We hung up several paper-back Fancy Nancy books I got for a great price on Amazon. The rest of the décor was just a whole lot of pink.<br />
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<u>The Cake:</u> I was able to get this customized cake topper on <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/CakesForCures?ref=l2-shopheader-name" target="_blank">Etsy</a>. For the actual cake, I made a checkered layer cake using strawberry and white cake.<br />
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Blowing out the candles!<br />
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Friends!<br />
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Opening presents<br />
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Violet in a box because, why not?<br />
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31735432.post-45333833051944291212015-07-15T10:53:00.002-05:002015-07-15T10:53:23.630-05:00Nine Years of Nerdy Awesome GoodnessBecause I married him. Because he's my minister and co-disciple in faith. Because he's the father of my three favorite people. Because it's been pretty fun and he's still making me laugh. Happy anniversary, BJ!<br />
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2006</div>
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2008</div>
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2009</div>
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2010 (with Shepherd)</div>
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2012 (with Lydia)</div>
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2014(with Violet)</div>
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2014</div>
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Kalyn Gensichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15561254293358968057noreply@blogger.com0