tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27790172424478834772024-02-07T09:02:51.590-05:00Sublett Craziness...thoughts and feelings about being a woman, wife, mother, friend and teacher...Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-27335752584173007032020-05-10T09:58:00.000-04:002020-05-10T09:58:05.389-04:00a new day<div style="text-align: center;">
a big day</div>
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When I was growing up, my dad would wake me and we would sneak to the kitchen... Some years, I would make toast and cereal. Some years, we would go elaborate... never knowing that my mother had gotten out of bed, gotten dressed and applied her make up, put on her robe and gotten back into bed all to let me surprise her. We would give flowers and gifts. I knew that she was my biggest fan and closest buddy. She was the glue that held my life together. She attended every event of my life (still does). She was the world to me. And I knew that one day I wanted to be just like her.</div>
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then I got married</div>
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When we were married, I wanted kids immediately. We were married in August and I went off birth control within six months... when I was not pregnant in February, I went to a doctor and explained to him that I needed three sons by age 25 (I was 22). Doctors laughed, but agreed to help me. Tests were done. So many exams were given. I drove to Atlanta to a specialist for over two years... Then we moved to NC and I saw specialists in Chapel Hill... until...</div>
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a sad day</div>
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The Wednesday before Mother's Day in 1997, I found out I was pregnant. I did not tell Scott. Instead, I bought baby items and planned to tell him Friday night... but Friday started with cramping... but Friday afternoon, I was no longer pregnant and had a very different story to tell him when he arrived home from work to find me on the bathroom floor in tears. Two days later I had to go to church because of "jobs" that we had during the service - it was a horrible Mother's Day... I hated mother's day and thought that I always would.</div>
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a new day</div>
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Little did I know that a couple of weeks after my miscarriage, a beautiful boy would be born on the other side of the world... and he was mine. In October 1998, Scott and I went to Penza, Russia and picked up our son. And then to the amazement and disbelief of our doctors, I gave birth to our daughter six months later... Mother's Day 1999 was the best day ever. It was all I dreamed of my entire life... yes, I was 28 and the mother of two amazing babies... and then in 2005, we were blessed with our third miracle, our second son.</div>
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Life doesn't work out the way you plan... I did get my three kids... but I had planned for three sons, and I am so glad that God saw a different plan and gave me a girl to help me balance our home. I had planned to have all three before age 26... but God wanted me to be 35 for Caleb's birth and that meant that I continued to be a preschool teacher instead of going back to school - and I am so incredibly blessed that happened. </div>
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Mother's day means many things to many people. Growing up, it meant a celebration of the lady who was everything to me... then it became a very dark and sad day for me for a few years... but now, it is a celebration for me - both to honor my own mother who continues to cheer for me from her house across the street and to celebrate my three kids who are almost all grown and hardly need me now...</div>
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Happy Mother's Day to all of the ladies here... Some of you have children in your home, some in your lives... but we can all mentor and love the children around us, guide them, and help them grow into amazing people... </div>
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I am so glad that I was given the gift of being the mom to </div>
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Scott Alexander, Jessica Erin, and Caleb Walker... </div>
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They are my world... </div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-90160082870741131242020-04-14T08:58:00.001-04:002020-04-14T08:58:32.002-04:00not for the weak<div style="text-align: center;">
As a young adult, I so desperately wanted to make my own choices. I knew that I actually understood what was going on. When things went wrong for me, I ran home... home was where I could find support and truth. Home was safe and protected.</div>
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As a mother, I so desperately want to make all of the choices for my children. I know that I actually understand what is going on. When things go wrong for them, I want them to run home. Home is where I will offer support and truth. Home is where they will always be safe and protected.</div>
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I wish that knowledge, life mistakes, successes, and life experiences were hereditary... Motherhood would be easier on my heart if I could save them heartache by letting them see how I overcame mine.</div>
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No one warns you about parenting... A nurse hands you the little bundle in the white, thin blanket with two light blue stripes and one little pink stripe. They test your car seat, show you how to bath them, watch you feed them, and then push you in your wheelchair to your car and send you home with well wishes... </div>
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Parenting is not for the weak. </div>
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Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-66018662921187166292020-04-11T22:50:00.000-04:002020-04-12T11:08:48.671-04:00a different Easter<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>this will be a different Easter...</b></div>
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we have not been shopping for new Easter outfits - instead, we will attend church in lounge clothes or pajamas</div>
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we will not attend church in our beautiful sanctuary with stained glass windows and beautiful communion - instead, we will gather around the TV and watch our pastor deliver our Easter message online</div>
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we will not shake the hands and hug the necks of loved ones in church - instead, we will write notes on the "live chat" space and send texts to church members throughout the message</div>
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we will not wait in line for lunch having forgotten to make reservations anywhere - instead, we will order takeout from a small local restaurant trying to help them during this hard time</div>
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<b>this will be a different Easter...</b></div>
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Covid19 has effected everyone on this planet... It has caused companies to falter, people to lose their jobs, families to be unable to visit together, and people have died. Schools have closed. Colleges have gone strictly online. Food Pantries have been cleaned out and restocked.</div>
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And yet, it has also brought together people. Groups of people are ordering take out from restaurants they have never been to in order to help them stay in business. People have come together to raise money and food in order to serve the children of the school system who depend on school meals to keep them full. People who have been placed at home from work have started sewing masks for nurses and doctors and essential workers. Neighbors are walking around the neighborhood more now and are meeting new people from a distance. Families are staying home together and are playing games and doing crafts together.</div>
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<b>this will be a different Easter...</b></div>
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However, the Easter story remains the same. Jesus Christ was beaten, crucified, then hung on a cross for me and for you. He died and was laid in a tomb. He paid the penalty for my sins and for your sins. On the third day, He rose again. His death and resurrection are the reasons we can one day stand before God and be welcomed into heaven... </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He is risen, He is risen indeed. </span></b></div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-1759102577837843632020-04-09T08:28:00.000-04:002020-04-09T08:28:21.237-04:00pink is not prettyfeel like I am spiraling downward during this boredom 2020... I mean, COVID2020... Last night, I was explaining to one of my children that I am bored... my kids have school to do. my husband still works every day, all day and then has online meetings every night of the week...<br />
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I have a zoom Thursday mornings... that is it.<br />
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I have cleaned<br />
I have organized<br />
I have pruned bushes back out of season<br />
I have cut grass<br />
I have weeded flower beds<br />
I have read books and watched all of netflix and disney+<br />
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however today is the day for my zoom! I have been excited for 24 hours to get to see my students this morning...<br />
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woke up with double pink eye<br />
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please drive to my house and shoot meAmanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-37367610093641023492020-04-08T08:06:00.003-04:002020-04-08T08:06:51.736-04:00being stuck<div style="text-align: center;">
been stuck in this house since March 13th... </div>
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four weeks...</div>
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i have been stuck before - this is not a new feeling. it is simply a new situation. i have been stuck at a job where i did not want to be. i have been stuck at a weight where i was not happy. i have been stuck in a relationship where i was not valued. i have been stuck at a church where i felt surrounded by hypocrisy. i have been stuck in a circle surrounded by people who struggled with boundaries.</div>
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being stuck sucks. it is hard. yet, i have come through this feeling before. </div>
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i have seen the other side of "stuck". </div>
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I left the job and found a new professional home. I have moved around and have found satisfaction with my body and all that it has brought me through. I have eliminated friendships that were hurting me and causing me to hurt myself. I have found a church that is not perfect, but doesn't proclaim to be; instead they meet you where you are, love you there and then bring you closer to God. I have changed my circle of close people to me in order to protect my heart and spirit.</div>
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so yes, I am stuck in this house. </div>
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no, I do not enjoy being stuck at all.</div>
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being stuck sucks. it is hard.</div>
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but I have seen the other side before and I will see it again.</div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-7698160455505962062020-04-01T08:25:00.000-04:002020-04-01T08:25:13.652-04:00self diagnosis <div style="text-align: center;">
Three years ago, my oldest child was hit by a truck in a hit and run... It was scary and horrible. We spent over a week in the Neuro-ICU at Duke Hospital. To try to make it through the day, I would joke with his neurologists saying "I watch Greys, I know how this goes"... they would blush and laugh and be awkward. It gave me something to smile about each day. Last year, my daughter gave me a shirt that says "I watch Greys Anatomy so I am basically a surgeon"... it is my life.</div>
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Now, as my daughter in nursing school talks about pathogens and random bodily functions, I realize that I basically know nothing about the body I use daily... She explains things to me - I marvel sometimes and almost vomit other times...</div>
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While sitting here for three weeks in this house that I once loved but now consider a prison, I am self diagnosing. I am pretty sure I am depressed. I am definitely bored. I read little checklists off of Facebook... I have a stomach ache. No desire to eat at all, but constant desire to snack on anything with no true craving. I want to sleep but my sleep is broken up all night long. Someone posted on Facebook a list of "8 Warning Signs that You're Mentally and Emotionally Exhausted"... </div>
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I have all of them.</div>
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The problem is I need a cure</div>
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I need a re-focus </div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-54862857552314422992020-03-31T09:11:00.000-04:002020-03-31T09:11:19.500-04:00the walkeveryone had their own stuff to do... one was working on nursing simulations... one was in a meeting for work... one was howling with friends over discord while attempting google classroom...<br />
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I had nothing to do<br />
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the floors had been cleaned... the toilets had been scrubbed... the dog had been groomed... food had been cooked... two flowerbeds had been weeded... flowers were watered...<br />
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I had nothing to do<br />
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I decided to have a pity party... I started walking... forgot my ear buds for music but did not turn around... I just walked... got to the end of a street but turned around and kept going... passed my house and kept walking... down a hill... up a freaking mountain... and kept walking...<br />
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I had nothing to do<br />
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I ended up at my best friend's house... sat on her back porch... 6 feet away or more... drank iced water and sat there for almost two hours...<br />
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It gave me life.<br />
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I am going to have to make a list of options for myself everyday. I am a person who needs a plan to feel secure. I need to know what is coming and what I am going to do about it. I am learning that being laid back and "going with the flow" does not work for my brain... it puts me in a tailspin.<br />
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I do not like being bored. I do not like watching tv all day. I do not want to spend the day in bed. I can not freely roam my home due to everyone else's online meetings. So, I will make a plan...<br />
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Wish I could write a book...Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-27337133725012293832020-03-30T10:14:00.001-04:002020-03-30T10:14:16.361-04:00at homeSo we are in the middle of a quarantine.... I have been home for over two weeks. I have gone to the grocery store or Costco... I have walked around the neighborhood... I have cleaned closets, vacuumed the house more than 5 times a week, texted friends, posted youtubes for my students, attended Zoom meetings online, cooked new recipes and old favorites, and sat on the back parch and cried.<br />
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I miss my friends at work. I miss seeing my little students every morning. I miss joking with my teaching partner and solving the earth's problems with her every day. I miss working in my classroom, setting up new centers, getting out craft supplies, organizing the storage closet, and moving things around. It is true that you don't know what you have until it is gone... It is not "gone", but it is absent presently... I would feel a little better if I could just sit in my classroom.... some sense of normalcy.<br />
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I know the COVID virus is reason to stay home. I get it. I have a full house right now with two of my children home and my husband working from home. Everyone is spread around the home on conference calls, online classes, and assignments... meanwhile, I have nothing to do. I missed my students so badly that I made all of my videos for the week on Saturday... If I go ahead and do next week's videos, I may go crazy...<br />
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I am not made to sit. I am not made to be bored.<br />
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But what if God needs me to be bored in order to be able to hear Him...<br />
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I don't like it.<br />
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wish I was a better listenerAmanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-25888719575097041742020-03-30T10:04:00.001-04:002020-03-30T10:04:41.040-04:00complexIt's kind of funny when you think about it. Most people who know me consider me to be an extrovert. Well, I am not. I am bigger than life. I am loud. I try to be funny. I am authentic. However, I think I am a lot of these things because I truly am normally uncomfortable. In group settings, I would prefer to stand against the wall or sit on the outside of the circle... but this is usually the time I am expected or asked to perform... be funny.<br />
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I think a lot of my anxiety begins with my need to be invisible but my inability to be invisible... isn't that weird?<br />
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If I have to be a part of the group, I want to seem smart, witty, fun, likable, and desired... Yet, I would rather not.<br />
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Now, these feelings are not with my family... not with my family of 11 (Subman Family). With my family, I want to be right in the middle. I want to hear all of the side conversations. I want to know how everyone is doing and make sure they don't need anything. With my family, I need them to know and believe that I would lay in front of a train for them...<br />
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The strange dichotomy of my crazy brain...<br />
In one case - please do not notice me.<br />
In the next case - please don't leave me out.<br />
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I am crazy<br />
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I know this fact<br />
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I guess I am an extroverted introvert with a complexAmanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-13272899724001161922018-09-25T15:37:00.000-04:002018-09-25T15:37:34.914-04:00I saw a signI saw a sign the other day...<br />
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<b>"You will never look into the eyes of someone that God does not love. Be kind"</b></div>
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This reminder is for when you are sitting at the stoplight. See the man or lady beside your car holding the cardboard sign? I am not suggesting you give money or advice... I am not offering guilt or praise over your choice on how to handle this dilemma... However, God loves them... a kind smile, a wave, an acknowledgement that you see them instead of changing lanes to avoid the awkward stare...<br />
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This reminder is for when you are in the huge hurry at the grocery store. See the older gentleman in front of you struggling with his checkbook? He may be flustered. His wife may have always done the shopping and now he has to do it alone. He may be in pain or the years have taken a toll and he simply needs more time. A smile to let him know that you are not angry could bless his entire afternoon as he leaves the store to go home all alone yet again.<br />
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This reminder is for when you are in the restaurant. See the mother at her wits end with her toddler? Remember back to what it was like when you just didn't have the will power to cook anything, the fridge was empty, and you just wanted to go out once... but the toddler refused his nap, isn't feeling good, and has decided that all the food you've ordered was not what she wanted... Maybe silly faces to the toddler and a smile to the frazzled mom could brighten her day. Let her know that we have all been there.<br />
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This is a reminder when you see signs of protest or anger. See the hurt in their eyes. See the rejection they feel... You do not have to believe what they do. You do not need to comment on their signs or beliefs. No one is asking you to make a religious decision or change your politics. However, God loves them as much as He loves you. A kind smile, a hug, or a listening ear could show them that you care about them even when you disagree.<br />
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God gave each of us our own will... Thank goodness we are not all robots. That would be incredibly boring. I understand that "life would be so much easier if everyone just believed like me or did what I wanted".... however, reality is that we live in a mixed up world with a hodge podge of people who all look differently, act differently, and believe differently...<br />
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We need to do a better job of being kind, showing respect, and loving regardless... </div>
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at least I know that I do.</div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-84932733333378116542018-07-06T19:12:00.001-04:002018-07-06T19:12:28.753-04:00SASEight years ago, my husband was blessed to get a job at SAS in Cary, NC. It took months of applying, interviewing, praying, visiting the campus, and waiting... I will never forget standing in the hallway on my preschool when he called me to tell me that he got the job... I jumped up and down, squealed, ran down the hall hollering at all of my friends with excitement. It was a game changer for our family. The salary was not going to be a big change, but the benefits effected our lives greatly... <div>
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Two days later, our family drove onto campus for the first time. It was the annual family night. There were people everywhere. Gourmet food tents, inflatables for the children, live music, dancing, free drinks, pelican snowballs, games similar to the State Fair... we were overwhelmed... </div>
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With everything going on around us, my oldest son (who was 12 at the time) sat up and said "Dang, look at the grass. Perfect rows... This place is beautiful. I would kill to cut this grass. Could I work here one day?"</div>
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Of course, we all laughed and said, "who knows, wouldn't that be great?"</div>
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Then my son took botany in school and loved it... Then my Eagle Scout found a teacher who was also an Eagle Scout and was willing to give up his planning period to teach my son even more in the greenhouse and called it Botany II... Then my son and his friend started their own lawn service, had shirts made, and agreed to cut more than 15 yards every two weeks... After graduation from high school, my son started working for the Garden Shed... He would work through 100 degree weather, and be upset when it would rain and keep him from working... </div>
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This past May, my husband saw on the SAS website that they were hiring for the Landscaping Team. We thought it might be a long shot, but my son really wanted to try... so he applied. He received a call for an interview, however, he was working out of state. So, we started praying. The job recruiter agreed to wait three and a half weeks until my son returned home. We couldn't believe it. He had three interviews.</div>
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This past Monday, my son received a life changing phone call... The recruiter called and offered him the job. Soon, my son will cut the grass that he fell in love with over 8 years ago... </div>
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We are beyond proud!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Listen to your children - Let them follow those dreams - </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>And celebrate when those dreams become reality!</i></b></span></div>
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We have a lot to be thankful for with my son... he has overcome a lot in his life... schooling, expectations, poor choices, and a tragic accident that could have ended his life... but prayer and perseverance have won. In a couple of weeks, he will live his dream.</div>
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I love you, my boy... (Whose initials, by the way, are SAS - how cool is that?!?!) </div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-25031705584502661392018-04-03T21:08:00.000-04:002018-04-03T21:08:33.782-04:00Blessedso incredibly blessed<br />
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today, my husband went to work at a company that is in the top five companies in the world... not every day is glorious, however he enjoys his job. His job has benefits that are the envy of every human resource director. He is given time off for scouts, family events, and more.<br />
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so incredibly blessed<br />
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today, my oldest went to work at a company that provides him with training for a trade that will hold value for him for years to come. He has benefits and is able to travel all over the country. He is seeing places that I could not have shown him. He loves his job.<br />
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so incredibly blessed<br />
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today, my middle went to classes at a small, private college where she is planning to earn a degree to become a nurse. She is safe. She is on the Dean's List. She is at her parents' college. She is meeting people from all over the world who love the Lord, and will be future leaders. She is excelling.<br />
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so incredibly blessed<br />
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today, my youngest walked over 11,000 steps all over the zoo. He told us about every animal. He explained subjects to me that I do not understand. He was funny and entertaining. He actually enjoyed hanging out with his mother all day long. He is a middle schooler who loves school and his siblings.<br />
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so incredibly blessed<br />
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today, I spoke with each one of my children. I ate supper alone with my husband. I chatted and joked with both of my parents who live right across the street. I texted with close friends. I am enjoying my spring break, but will also enjoy going back to a job I love on Monday...<br />
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so incredibly blessed<br />
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Like most people, I have a lot to complain about every day. I am too cold or too hot. My butt is too big. I am tired. I am cranky. I am too busy. I am bored... but overall... I have no business complaining. I am blessed. Not rich, not thin, not famous... but so incredibly blessed.<br />
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Lord, help me to focus on my blessings and point my friends to their blessings as well!Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-79288338194698787292018-02-19T06:50:00.001-05:002018-02-19T06:50:08.330-05:00DiddyDad - JC - John C Atkins - Papa - Johnny - <b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i> DIDDY</i></span></b><br />
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Today is an important day in history... February 19, 1943 marks the day my life would be forever changed. A little baby boy arrived to rule the day... He would grow up having three sisters and two brothers... He had a hardworking mother and a father that was not known for greatness... but he watched him and did the opposite! He started working while still just a child - he would rise early in the morning and deliver papers, and then give his mother the money to help with bills. </div>
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Fast forward</div>
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He started his first date with my mother waiting for her while sitting on a trashcan holding a lollipop for her - she still has this sucker (the candy and the man). It was a quick romance... my mom could see that he was a hard working man who loved to laugh and joke. They married young.</div>
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Fast forward</div>
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They wanted children, but it was not happening. Medicine, procedures, appointments, paperwork, and finally they discovered the greatest lady - Judy Upchurch... she was the social worker that brought them the sweetest, most amazing little bundle of greatness... ME</div>
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Fast forward</div>
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Growing up, my dad would call me Amanda Jane, much to my mother's horror (she hates nicknames). I knew how to work it! A little back rub, sweet talking, love on him and call him "diddy"... and if all else failed, wait until he was dozing in and out on the couch to ask permission! As a matter of fact, that is how I was able to go on my first real date! I asked my dad if I could go out without a chaperone, and he said yes... I had mom stand there as a witness... after that, there was a new rule in the house... "No asking dad for anything while he was dozing"</div>
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Fast forward</div>
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When planning the music for my wedding, my main goal was for me to NOT cry and for my dad TO cry... I must say that I was successful! It was so important to me to have my dad think that I was beautiful that day. I wanted to see his emotion. I needed him to be proud of me.</div>
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Fast forward</div>
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Getting off the plane, I knew my mother would cry and lose her mind. I guessed there would be balloons and gifts - I was right... but leaving the airport, there was the sight... my father carried Alex the entire way from the gate to our red van. Never a prouder papa. He cried over baby Jessica and adored her. He was scared to hold Caleb (he was 5.5 weeks early, 5.1 pounds, and had some issues), and cried/worried over him as if he were his father... His grandchildren know they are loved. They will grow up knowing that there is a hard working man across the street who will have their back forever.</div>
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Fast forward</div>
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My Diddy is 75 today... still working way too many hours... still doting on my mother and me... still volunteering at his church... plays on a dart ball team (we have to have his birthday celebration at 4:30 today so he is not late to dart ball!)... still adores his grandchildren (just returned yesterday from driving to Georgia to spend the weekend with Jessica)...</div>
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Happy Birthday to one of my greatest gifts. God had to do a lot of maneuvering to get us together, but He knew it would be worth it.</div>
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Happy Birthday, Diddy! </div>
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<br />Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-92004568248113292062018-02-10T17:00:00.001-05:002018-02-10T17:00:26.464-05:00rain<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>I hate rain...</b> </div>
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yes, the flowers need it</div>
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yes, the sound is relaxing</div>
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yes, people say we need to fill the lakes and reservoirs</div>
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<b>however</b></div>
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I have white indoor dogs - they seem magnetically attracted to mud</div>
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I teach preschool children - they need the playground time</div>
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I am sure there are more reasons... deep psychological reasons... </div>
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but regardless,</div>
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<b>I hate rain...</b></div>
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I need to move to Arizona... or San Diego...<b> </b></div>
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<b>UGH</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>...</b></div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-20508255219920664562018-02-05T06:30:00.000-05:002018-02-05T06:36:56.786-05:00HAZELMy Hazel... My Linda Hazel Autry Atkins... my number one fan... my first friend... the lady who is in my corner... the one in every audience where I sang... heck, the one in every audience where my choirs sang that I directed... the first one I call for major life events... the one with the biggest smile and sweetest tears in the airport in 1998... the first one inside the hospital room in 1999... the one holding my left leg inside the hospital room in 2005...<br />
<br />
Y'all, my mother has a birthday today... it is a big one. She turns 75 today. I have promised her that we would celebrate her 85th though... my mom has never understood those ladies who lied about their age or would keep it a secret... to tell someone that you are less than you are, she thinks that is crazy... If anything, she says, you should add ten years so that people think, "Dang, you look amazing!"<br />
<br />
So, therefore, <br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>HAPPY 85th BIRTHDAY, MOM!</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I can not begin to imagine all of the amazing things that she has been able to witness. I have watched this lady have numerous surgeries, several hard times, hundreds of laughs, and tears from good and bad... </span></div>
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She is my rock. </div>
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Mom, I love you more than I can type or put into words. I hope you feel celebrated on this Monday. I can not wait to celebrate your day with you... your cake is ready and already has the "85" on it!</div>
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Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-31204163656141197372018-01-28T19:30:00.003-05:002018-01-28T19:30:35.839-05:00fun in the dormIt has been fun having my daughter going to my alma mater... it has been interesting to see the changes on campus; the new buildings, the differences in the rules, the new professors... it has been funny to hear the same complaints; the yucky cafeteria food, no toilet paper in the dorm bathrooms, people not picking up after themselves... Scott and I have re-lived a ton of memories over the past 6 months. Jessica's best friend is actually living IN MY DORM ROOM which I loved dearly. So many memories and so many laughs...<br />
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Jess had the perfect roommate last semester. She was neat, kind, considerate, quiet, musical, and a wonderful student. Jess loves her. They did not hang out, but enjoyed being together... the perfect rooming situation. I told Jess often that she will never have such a great roommate! We were sad to hear that her roommate was moving back home to become a commuter this semester... we were also concerned to see what kind of girl would she be placed with after having such a great semester with "L".... well, there was not a ton of new transfers, so Jess will have the room to herself for now.<br />
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I travelled down to Georgia for a quick 24 hours visit this past weekend to help her set up the room. We dressed the bed for overnight guests, yet comfy enough to be a couch when she wanted... We added rugs to try to hide the same yucky carpet that I would swear was there when I was a student. We put pictures on the wall and hung cute little lantern lights. She added her favorite Bible verses to the walls. Basically, we kept command strips in business... seriously!<br />
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<i>It was crazy to see that girls were just starting to get up and move around after 2pm on Saturday. It was so quiet in the dorm. I do not remember the silence.</i> </div>
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I am proud of my girl. She has worked hard, kept grades up, and kept her eyes focused on her goals. She is definitely her daddy's girl. </div>
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It was nice to be with her, even if it was for a short moment. </div>
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It was a quick reminder that she is amazing... </div>
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I love you, Puddin'.</div>
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Jess, I love your room. I think you chose wonderful colors, rugs, and pictures... but my favorite thing in the room is the beauty sitting at the desk - xoxoAmanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-46634474723077369152018-01-22T10:03:00.000-05:002018-01-22T10:50:51.033-05:00almosthard to think about... nine months ago, I almost lost my oldest son. It was 8pm. I was sitting in a dark movie theater alone... I had never been to a movie alone before. My daughter and a friend were watching a movie somewhere else in the building, so I went to enjoy alone time... I got a text from Alex at 8:03 saying "hey"... I replied that I was in a movie... at 8:06 I received a text from my husband saying, " call me 911"<br />
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worst feeling ever as I ran out of the theater, down the corridor to the exit, tried to locate my car while in a panic, find rides home for the girls I was abandoning in the theater behind me, call two friends to alert them that I was headed to the hospital and had no idea what was going on...<br />
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I arrived at Durham Regional Hospital as Scott drove up with our son... My son who is taller than anyone in our home, the most athletic child, the strongest young man I know, was folded in half in a wheelchair, moaning/crying and did not recognize me as his mother... In that moment, I immediately knew it was beyond horrible. I could not process anything for the next few moments.<br />
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As we moved to the back of the hospital to the emergency room, lots of people came in and out. Scans were done, doctors spoke, nurses flew in and out... and then there was the declaration of skull fracture, brain contusions, brain bleed... life flight needed to Duke Hospital... It all happened so quickly that I struggled to stay on top of things and be able to hear each word... I wrote notes in my phone so I could remember phrases and diagnoses... meanwhile, Alex went silent. He made no noise except for random loud moans that could make my heart rip out of my chest and bleed silently on the floor...<br />
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no parent should ever hear these noises<br />
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It was a parental hell in which I wanted to escape, yet I could not move. The waiting room filled quickly with my parents, close friends, small group members... their texts to us back in the back depths of the hospital kept me focused and sane... their presence meant that people were praying for my baby boy who was laying in front of me hurting and unconscious. I was unable to pray that night... sadly it never came to mind. I was so intently focused on every syllable that uttered from any person in scrubs. I paced floors, held my child's hand without his knowledge, and wanted to scream. I would have laid on the table beside him if allowed. Heck, I would have hit my own head and taken all of the injury just to allow him to walk out... but he did not wake up.<br />
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He had three MRI's in the span of four hours. Each one was worse than the previous one. He was labeled a Level Two Brain injury... there are seven levels and level one is the absolute worst and close to death. He had 30 electrodes placed on his head to monitor for seizures... I was transfixed on the monitors and the IV of which he had 5 bags hanging and draining into his arm. He had an open wound on his right palm... actively dripping blood on to the floor... I begged a doctor to please get someone to dress that wound... it was at that moment where I learned that this was so much worse and more horrible than I had even allowed myself to believe... "If he makes it through the next 24 hours, we will worry with his hand..."<br />
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no parent should ever hear these words<br />
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I did not sleep Sunday night... Heck, I rarely slept that week. Scott finally went home Monday night to check on our other two kids and get a suitcase packed for the hospital... we agreed to alternate nights in the hospital so our other two kids could see us and hopefully not fully understand how serious our sweet baby boy's injuries were... As a mother, I desperately needed to protect all three of my children... from everything... I realized that I can not do that at all. We merely existed Monday, Tuesday, and half of Wednesday... there are many stories from those days... many miracles... many more heartaches and fears... many visits from family and friends who had words of encouragement and prayers of healing... I would love to say that they meant so much to me and encouraged me... But my only focus was my baby boy... I would see him in that bed... almost too long for it, messy blonde hair from the glue left from the electrodes, unable to move, unable to speak, struggling with communication, rarely aware of his surroundings, and yet I would only see a little 16 month old toddler walking out of an orphanage and into my heart... hoping desperately that he would walk again and be able to speak to me...<br />
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no parent should ever have these fears<br />
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Wednesday afternoon, they brought in a tall walker... it was a struggle, but he made it down a hall... I cried as he left the room. Scott walked with Alex and his therapist, but I could not budge. I was too emotional to stand up from the chair... I was in shock that he could do it but devastated to see my strong, tree climbing child struggle to walk... It was almost too much. It took a lot out of him and so he then slept for 6 hours (minus the constant waking for neuro-checks). <br />
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Thursday, they did not bring a walker... yet, Alex walked. He walked a lap around the entire floor. His neuro-surgeon and residents were standing in the hallway - they gave him double takes... and triple takes, then stopped by our room to ask me "was that really just Alex that sped passed us?" We could see him getting better. But Alex could not speak. The moan/groan that he made when attempting to speak was disturbing, loud, and unrecognizable. The doctors said it would be anywhere from 12 months to never before he could talk... it could be that he would have no speech ever. With brain injuries as serious as his, one could not predict anything... I was happy to have him alive. We would deal with the language... just give me my child to take home.<br />
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Alex had a 2.5 inch skull fracture, two brain contusions, and a 18mm brain bleed that were all located at the communication center area of the brain... He could understand what we were saying. He could write some (his handwriting was amazingly better than anything he had ever written). He could use hand signals or point to pictures on a communication board. But he could not make any sounds close to words.<br />
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<i><span style="color: #990000;">Back to Sunday night - Alex had returned home from working in Oklahoma around 5:30pm. He had taken his brother to go bowling. The bowling alley was packed, so they came home and he decided to take his long board out and go for a ride. Alex is 20 years old... he has ridden skateboards, skim boards, ripsticks, and long boards since he was five. He is crazy coordinated and talented on these things. He understands parkour and knows how to jump off and land softly... He left the house on his longboard around 7:30pm. Around 8pm, Alex sent me a snapchat of him riding his board on a flat surface having fun somewhere in our neighborhood... less than five minutes later, his doctor predicts that he was hit by a car due to his injuries. He had a severe blow to the head on his left side and then all his abrasions were on his right hand, arm, hip, side, leg... Alex was able to have the clarity of mind to text me then try to call Scott. However, when Scott answered the phone, Alex could not speak. He could not say where he was, what happened, or anything. Scott immediately got in the car and started hunting for him. By the time he found him, Alex could not walk and could not speak and did not recognize my mother. Scott drove him to the hospital. At the arrival there, Alex could not move, could not communicate at all, did not know who we were or where he was... it was 8:25pm. We were admitted at 8:35, travelled in the Life Flight ambulance (scott and alex only) at 9:40... Spent numerous hours in the neurological ER at Duke before being admitted to the Neuro ICU at 3am Monday early morning.... it was all a blur and whirlwind.</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Thursday evening, we were able to move to the step down unit on the Neuro Floor... then every hour was an improvement with still no words... He was able to put on real clothes. He could bathe himself if Scott was in there in case he got dizzy. He could decide his own meals and request food from area restaurants that I would call friends and make happen... but he did not speak. He took walks and even climbed several flights of stairs to the rooftop in order to see the life flight helicopter and meet the pilots. We took tons of pictures and were finally hopeful that we would leave the hospital...</span></div>
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Sunday... exactly one week from the scariest day of my 46 years, we were able to leave Duke. As we packed the bags and were preparing to walk out of his room - I saw a gorgeous bird... I asked "did you see that bird?"; I was talking to Scott... but I heard a loud, odd sounding "I do"... the most beautiful voice ever spoken. It sounded odd, stuttered, and like that from a hearing impaired child, but it was glorious. </div>
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every parent should feel this joy and hope</div>
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After the longest week of my life, we jumped in with two feet to the fastest several weeks ever. Alex's words started coming the following Tuesday while playing a video game with a friend... His speech was slurred like a drunk man, but it was getting better... </div>
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Nine months later, my child is working in San Antonio, Tx. He is healed... sometimes if he is tired or over-excited, I can hear a little speech impediment... but he is alive, strong, working, talking, and back to being the annoying crazy child that he has always been!</div>
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God is good, my friend... He came even without me asking. He healed when we did not know it would be possible. He has a plan for my boy... and I vow to watch every step of the way!</div>
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Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-75263949501537984582018-01-22T09:04:00.000-05:002018-01-22T09:04:05.889-05:00two and a half yearsI had wonderful plans to blog... I was going to blog weekly if not daily... I did well for awhile. But much like everything I attempt to do daily, life gets in the way and I stop. Six years ago I went through some huge physical changes... Three years ago I went through huge occupational changes... and during the past six months we have had huge changes inside our home...<br />
<br />
Here I am writing two and a half years later... Two of my children are no longer in our home. Our oldest works for a company where he travels for 4-6 weeks at a time and only returns for a few days... Our middle goes to college - nursing school - in Georgia... Our youngest is in middle school... All the kids are doing well and continue to make me proud!<br />
<br />
Scott continues to work at SAS. SAS has been a crazy ride. This is not a company which pays incredibly, however the benefits are amazing... Our medical care is fantastic. It would be a dream for me to have my husband working there, my oldest child working there, and then my middle get a job in the health clinic there... I could see myself living closer to SAS in 15 years... but then again, I can not imagine not living in the house where we brought all three of our babies home!<br />
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I am teaching in the dream school... I have taught for a long time with a brief one year stint as a secretary... I love seeing kids learn, laugh, and experience school. I am now at a preschool I had admired and envied for years. My fellow teachers are crazy amazing. The love for children, the crafts, the planning, the new friendships... I am beyond blessed. I feel like I am home. I have to be at work by 8:30am, however I rarely arrive later than 7:30am! I just can't wait to get to work... Blessed.<br />
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I do not like new year resolutions... yet, I feel like I am setting goals for myself. My children are moving more independently than ever - I am rarely "needed". So, I am trying to finally concentrate on me. I need to be more physical. I need to eat better. I need more time in books. I need to be more mindful... After 21 years of being a mother, it is beyond time for "me time".<br />
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Here's to improving me!Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-52784035705977756432015-06-25T21:29:00.001-04:002015-06-25T21:29:16.821-04:00so much has changed - but God hasn't<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>so much has changed over the past six months</b></div>
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My oldest son is a high school graduate. He has a full-time job with a local landscaping company and loves it. He comes home every day dirty and drenched in sweat and happy. No more books. No more tests. No more projects. He is free to be outside where he is happy. He has aged out of Boy Scouts which has been his safe spot for the last four years. He is now a Boy Scout leader. He has his own bank account, pay check, his own Jeep (1991), and is happy... He is content in a way I have never witnessed before. He still is "Alex", but he is a happy Alex.</div>
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My daughter is a junior in high school now... That is weird to see in writing. She performed in several choral shows and loved each one more the the last. She ended the year with a 4.3 GPA and loved her classes. She claims to be a nerd and seems pretty proud about it! She lives to babysit and would do it every day if she was asked. She still claims to have no idea what she wants to do as a "grown-up", but knows that she wants to be a mom. She will be a great one. She has been friends with a sweet young man for a while now and they have decided to date... This teenage stuff is hard on a mama. So proud to see her growing up, but it tugs on my heart strings to see her growing up. She got her braces off, her tongue clipped, decided to stop straightening her hair in order to embrace the natural curl, and tried out for the select choir for fall (and made it!).</div>
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My youngest son will be in the 4th grade in three weeks. He finished the year doing amazing work. He stresses over perfection and gets frustrated if there is anything that he can not do perfectly. He will forever be a nerd. When asked if he would like to try out for a local sports team, he replied "Mom, I tried running once. It isn't for me. I am more of a library kid, a nerd. And nerds make all the money." He keeps me laughing. He continues to be the amazing 'lil professor. He has always wanted to be a zoo keeper/chemist... however, several days over break he went to SAS with his daddy to work. He has decided that SAS is amazing and that he may want to work there with his dad. I happen to know that would please his father like nothing else! </div>
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Scott is as busy as busy can be. He works too many hours for SAS... He is the Asst Scoutmaster in charge of Advancement for Troop 400. He is head of the parent committee for Pack 400. He is also the District Chair over Advancement for all of Mawat Scouts. Don't forget that he is also the lead singer and drummer for the band Double Shot... I see him every once and awhile, but he is usually sleeping when he's here!</div>
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<b>then there is me...</b></div>
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In 1983, I decided that I would be a chorus teacher... In 1993, I got my first paying teaching position. I loved it. I taught high school. Then I taught middle school. After having a couple of kids, I started teaching preschool... I spent 32 years wanting to teach and 22 years actually teaching... But in March everything changed. In March, I started a new adventure. I never wanted this job, looked for this position, or would have believed that it would happen the way that it did... But in March I started working for a company that I had known of my entire life... My grandparents were members of the Woodmen of the World... They attended monthly meetings and potlucks. They had life insurance and other financial products. They loved it. Quite by accident, I was approached to work as an administrative assistant for a local representative.... I did not really put my best foot forward. Think of Erin Brochovich... I was offered the job... It is filled with terms that I do not understand. Every day I learn a little more. I am able to do more on the computer. I meet and talk with more interesting people. I am impressed with the community service and involvement. I am finding that I love it. I miss the friends who I had worked with for so many years... It is very different to go from working with 28 close knit ladies to being in an office with two men... I miss my friends and have gone through a type of mourning that loss that I did not believe would be so intense... I was sad to see them slowly taper off, stop calling or responding to my calls... however, in the end, I have learned who will continue to stand with me. I have learned that I am capable of more than I ever thought. I have found that I love working in an office. I can see where my OCD and organizing skills can really come in handy. I am a glorified secretary, and I love each day of it. A lot has changed for me. My job description is completely different. I am in an office for the first time ever. I have never worked in a male dominated office. I am focusing in new directions and excited about the future. </div>
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<b>so much has changed over the past six months but so much is still the same</b></div>
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My kids continue to fight hard and love hard. My husband is a hard worker, a consistent provider, and faithful to the core. We love our small group and the support that we have received over the months. Our dogs continue to bring us so much happiness and cause us to fight over who loves them the most, even though everyone knows that the dogs truly love me the most! I continue to strive to keep relationships current and positive... I am learning more every day and loving it all.</div>
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<b>so much has changed - but life changes constantly</b></div>
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I think I get into a patch of "woe is me" and get lost in the change and turmoil... but God is faithful. Hindsight is always perfect. His Will is perfect. All of the change over the past 6 months has been positive. Some change was brought due to personal growth. Some change was brought due to bad choices. Yet, my God can take all of it and turn it around and use it for my good. He is teaching me not to have an anxious heart. He is enough... </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">so much has changed - but God hasn't</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">and </span><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">HE</span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> is all I need</span></b></div>
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Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-12386727779657623782014-12-24T10:18:00.000-05:002014-12-24T10:18:24.172-05:00List for SantaI was an only child while growing up - I do not remember ever making a Christmas list... I never wrote down things for my parents or grandparents... I am sure someone asked me at some point, but I have no memories of a list. I would sit on Santa's lap even through my teenage years, and I always told him one or two items that I wanted...<br />
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Christmas was the BEST time of year. Some how even without the list, my parents, grandparents, and Santa all got together and gave me the best presents ever. I only have fabulous memories surrounding Christmas. It was the happiest time of year. I was always blessed, surprised, excited, and happy.<br />
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Fast forward<br />
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I have done my best to try to give my children these same experiences. My children have never really written down a list either - but Christmas is that magical time where I listen like crazy - I try to find that one special "Oh My Goodness" gift that they never expected to really receive. There are years that money is very tight, but I have sold something of mine or shopped online/thrift stores/craigslist in order to try to make sure there is something special under the tree. I let my kids ask for three things... We have always said that Jesus received three gifts for His birth, and so we do the same... but I always get more.<br />
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I drive my husband crazy at Christmas. I desperately want each kid to freak out Christmas morning... It is a goal of mine. I always did as a kid, and I want memories for them too. He doesn't seem to understand. I could honestly care less if there is a single gift for me - my gift is watching every one's faces when they open the gift to see it was exactly what they wanted, or it is exactly what they ever knew they wanted but see it is perfect... It gives me chills. I don't sleep the night before... at all.<br />
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This year has been tight. We have gotten a car for the teens, but it needed a lot of work. More insurance, more things needed fixing around our 40 year old home, health needs, costs from having a senior, and other random expenses that have sprung up unexpectedly have put a damper on my Christmas blessings for my kids.<br />
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But, my teens don't seem to care. They have focused more on the "what can we eat" and "who can we see" and "can we do this" thoughts. I ask what they want for Christmas, and they say they know money is tight and the gifts are not important... it blesses my heart, as it hurts my heart.<br />
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Then my youngest son who is nine says, "Mom, I was thinking about what I should tell Santa I want for Christmas. I live a really blessed life. I have everything I want and that I would ask for... so I think I may just ask for dog food and puppy chew toys for the dogs at the shelter who no one wants for Christmas."<br />
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All my life Christmas has been about making sure that each person in my family is given something amazing; the game station that they had no idea I could afford, the outfit that was sold out, the movie that just came out, tickets to that show at DPAC that was the best day of her life...<br />
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It seems that this year, my children decided to teach me to put different things on my list.<br />
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This year I just want to be with my family. I want to laugh, hug, joke, eat, and love....<br />
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I bet Santa can fill that order... I will be waiting all night tonight to see!Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-78973770773609811452014-12-13T09:43:00.000-05:002014-12-13T09:43:24.325-05:00Memories from Ornaments #2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHtgN9JJveFFN2PVFMItjHr60-6OlOt3GuQtM_xpbptAXQgkg0Eu1yXz6fTgYuUsBIFSjfrR5XkzJMo3g2RtgFA8wtdZ-R18KXqkJBDg6UH-BTARQuguClibU4GpqTa_QFAmXS7dPmxQH/s1600/IMG_8482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcHtgN9JJveFFN2PVFMItjHr60-6OlOt3GuQtM_xpbptAXQgkg0Eu1yXz6fTgYuUsBIFSjfrR5XkzJMo3g2RtgFA8wtdZ-R18KXqkJBDg6UH-BTARQuguClibU4GpqTa_QFAmXS7dPmxQH/s1600/IMG_8482.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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My Granny was pretty cool. My mother's mom was my longest living grandparent. I knew her the best. She wasn't always my favorite (I was a Papa's girl), but I loved her dearly. </div>
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When I was little, I gave her this ornament for Christmas. It was on her tree each year. When she was no longer able to put her tree up and did not want others to put it up for her, I was given the ornament back along with a few of her very old ornaments. Now, this ornament hangs on my tree every year. </div>
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I think of her at each glance.</div>
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My grandmother was a hulk. She was a very strong woman. She experienced hardships that I can only imagine and repeat in stories. Often I can get down on things in my own life and whine about how difficult life is - but when I think of her childhood, the beginning of her marriage, her raising four children with next to nothing, her family relationships, her old age, her failing health, and her last years being spent in a nursing home... I am reminded that she was so very much stronger than I.</div>
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Several of the ornaments on my tree are pretty... or cute... or gifts from students over past years. However, I love a good "memory" ornament... We have a set from the country of Jordan when Scott was there on a mission trip. We have one that was made for me by a childhood friend when I was 4. We have one that Scott made as a young child. Of course, we have a ton from preschool years that all three children have made. We still use the star on the top of the tree that my 17 year old made when he was 2...</div>
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My tree is a mixture. </div>
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A mixture of textures and colors.</div>
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A mixture of happy memories and sad thoughts.</div>
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A mixture of giggles and belly laughs.</div>
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I could sit and look at it in the quiet of the evening with a tall cup of hazelnut coffee and a snuggly blanket...</div>
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I love Christmas.</div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-62329977826123709672014-12-11T22:01:00.000-05:002014-12-11T22:01:05.428-05:00Sonic boom can't do it<div style="text-align: center;">
My oldest has been struggling in the mornings... Like all good parents, Scott and I want him to grow into an amazing adult. We want him to get up without help... </div>
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Set the alarm, sleep, hear the alarm, turn it off and get up</div>
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This is not happening.</div>
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For months, I tried everything. Loud alarms. Multiple alarms. Alarms across the room. Alarms inches from his head. Cup filled of cold water thrown in the face. Phone restrictions.</div>
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<b><i>You name it.</i></b></div>
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But for some reason, this week I started thinking. He isn't being rebellious. He is apologetic and just as upset as I am. He <b>WANTS</b> to get up. For the first time ever, he wants to go to school. His grades are amazing. </div>
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He is doing things at school that he enjoys.</div>
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So why is he not getting up?</div>
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I am so thankful for his doctor... I called her office and did not get her voice mail. She answered! As awesome as she is, it still catches me off guard... She took the time to listen and ask questions. She didn't offer suggestions until hearing it all. She sensed my concern and never mentioned that I was crazy or called my son disobedient... She ordered blood work immediately.</div>
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I am so thankful for Sonya Glavin.... At SAS, we have a full medical facility to use. They are wonderful and truly care. I have been scared of doctors for most of my adulthood. I have avoided them like a middle school boy avoids a shower... but <u>my</u> Dr Glavin is different. From the first moment on the phone, someone hears my concern and finds me an answer. Then my wonderful doctor offers ideas and suggestions, but also reassures me that I am not crazy (any more so than normal).</div>
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So far the tests are coming back that my son is fine. He struggles with several issues, one being OCD. It seems that Alex has habituated himself to loud noises while sleeping. He doesn't hear them. See, he doesn't hear the alarm, and hit the snooze - He sleeps through them for over an hour of constant noise. It is amazing to watch. It is actually quite scary. We have moved a smoke detector inside of his room... but when asleep, he does not hear it.</div>
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We are trying a new technique for awhile to re-train his brain... Each morning, I now silently enter his room. I gently rub his arm and then <b><i>whisper</i></b> "get up, Bud"... So far, both mornings, he has woken up immediately, smiled and gotten up and headed to the shower. </div>
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It is the weirdest thing. </div>
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A sonic boom can't do it</div>
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<b><i>but my whisper can</i></b></div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-63893473212817670972014-12-11T07:38:00.000-05:002014-12-11T07:38:11.364-05:00Memories from Ornaments - #1<div style="text-align: center;">
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Many many years ago, in the world of an angry little girl, a story was told...<br />
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When my daughter was 5, she got very angry with her brother. Yes, most siblings fight, but this time was different. She was so angry that she said hurtful things. Yes, most siblings do, but this time was different.<br />
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My daughter looked at her older brother and said, "I wish you were never adopted. I wish you were still in Russia and had never been brought into my family."<br />
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I was floored, shocked, and hurt. Since I am adopted, I tend to overreact when I hear comments like this... People don't always think about the words they use, I have experienced a lot of ignorant people over the years since I have one adopted son and two biological children.<br />
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So, I sat her down... I had planned to punish her, but off the cuff I changed my mind.<br />
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"Jess~ It is time that I was honest with you... See, we told Alex when he was five, and now you are five so it is time. You are adopted. When you say ugly things to your brother, you are inflicting pain on all adopted children. You hurt me and you hurt Alex, but now you need to know that you are hurting yourself. Yes, we flew on planes and took a train and a bus to get your brother - but we had to ride on a spaceship to get you. You were adopted from the planet Hogbath in the galaxy Ummmdidd. (I know that is ridiculous - it was off the cuff). You were a lizard princess, and we had to teach you English. We loved Alex before we ever knew him, and we loved you before we ever knew you. See, God knew that Alex would be our son. He prepared him for us and our hearts for him. Then, God knew that we needed a daughter, and He prepared you for us and our hearts for you."<br />
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she was floored - she looked at me trying to figure out if I was lying or what - the story seemed far-fetched, but I am completely convincing - she was not sure<br />
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I dropped it. Three months later, I was chatting with Leslie. As women do, we were talking about labor pains, deliveries, and comparing stories. I said something like "when I was pregnant with Jessie - " but before I could get another word out of my mouth, Jess ran into the room<br />
"I KNEW IT! I KNEW I WASN'T ADOPTED"...<br />
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We laughed until I cried.<br />
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That Christmas, Leslie and her family brought this ornament to my Jessica. On the belly of the bejeweled lizard it reads, To Jessica, our favorite lizard princess... We laugh every Christmas as we put it on our tree.<br />
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We have talked about it for 10 years now. It reminds me of so many life lessons... Be careful what you say because words can hurt. God did choose my children for me, one in my heart and two from my belly. Adopted children are planned, chosen, and wanted in this family. All three of my children are adopted by God and loved by me... I thank Him for entrusting me with three of His little wonders.</div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-72969715381158803132014-10-12T15:27:00.000-04:002014-10-12T15:27:14.015-04:00...Preschool Teacher....<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">I love my job</span></b></div>
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I could say that the money is amazing and the benefits are incredible...<br />
yet, that would be seriously stretching the truth.<br />
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I could say that I get paid to sit on my butt all day and do nothing...<br />
yet, that would be untrue.<br />
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However, I<i><b> can</b></i> say that I work with some great ladies. Most of my closest friends in Durham have come into my life through my job. They are hard working women who love their families, enjoy their job, and make me laugh almost daily. They make me smile. They let me vent about life. They challenge me and hold me accountable. They pray for me when I ask. We go to lunch, meet for suppers, hit thrift stores, and have even vacationed together.<br />
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I <b><i>can</i></b> also say that I love hearing the stories that my students bring me each day... "Daddy snores when he is on the couch", "Mommy, drinks and watches movies all day", "I have a pet elephant that sleeps with me", or "my dog pooped down the air vent this morning".... My kids crack me up. Their innocence and candor are invigorating. Their timing is perfect.... On a day that I am sad or tired, a student will remind me that they love me, or compliment my shirt (which is the exact same as every other teacher on staff) and bring a smile to my lips. On a silly day, my students will laugh at my crazy socks, Halloween costume, funny songs, or crazy way I dance during class. The reasons I walk into my job each morning are all between the ages of one and 5 years old...<br />
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I have a lot in my life to be thankful for - Today, I am choosing to remind myself that many will get up Monday morning dreading their work day... I will not have to do that.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I love my job</span></b></div>
Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2779017242447883477.post-51037464723338678362014-09-18T07:34:00.001-04:002014-09-18T17:32:10.812-04:00God thought differentlyIn the spring of 2005, I had a thought... I have always loved to argue. I always want to be right. I feel the need to fight my point... so, I wanted to go back to school to study law. I started making plans to go back to school... I saw dollar bills in my future.<br />
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but God thought differently<br />
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Early in the year, I traveled to Thailand for a wonderful mission trip. I felt like God was getting ready to change some major things in my life. I was sick on the trip, but some of the food we ate was scary looking. Several people got the tummy bug, so I knew that I had caught it as well.<br />
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but God thought differently<br />
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After years of infertility drugs, our adoption of our firstborn, and then our surprise birth of our second born, I had finally convinced my hubby that it was time for him to go get a vasectomy. Our family was good and complete. My kids were in school, so I could go back to work/school. We were done with diapers.<br />
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but God thought differently<br />
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Eleven days before the scheduled vasectomy, Scott found a pregnancy test under the sink. We joked about how we would never need it again. However, we said we shouldn't throw it away because that would be wasteful. So as a joke, the next morning I took the test knowing it would be one line, and then I could toss it.<br />
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but God thought differently<br />
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I was quite mad. My life had been perfect. I knew what I wanted and where I wanted our family to go. I had my future planned out, and this little surprise was not in the plan.<br />
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It is hard to think about these facts. As I look back over the past nine hilarious years with my professor, I can not believe that he was not planned... well, planned by me.<br />
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God had Caleb Walker Sublett in His plan. He knew that I needed a brilliant young 3yr old to explain to me at 6:15am one morning that platypus have electro-reception and can move around in murky waters similar to how bats fly at night. God knew that I would need a little one to compliment me daily and intently mean every word he spoke. He knew that Caleb would amaze and humor people every where he visits. God was aware of the teachers who would marvel at his vocabulary, yet be enamored by his charm. God knew that one day in third grade, Caleb would sit several of his friends down at recess so that he could explain to them that Jesus loved them so much that He had sent the Holy Spirit down as Living Water.<br />
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God thought differently<br />
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God knew that I needed Caleb. I had no idea.<br />
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I need to learn from this... I am so flippin' hard-headed. When things do not turn out the way I PLANNED, I need to step back and know that it has happened to me before... and God is sovereign. He knows what He is doing. It may take a few years, but I will be able to look back and see that even though He thought differently that HE WAS RIGHT.<br />
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My little one was born 5.5 weeks early. He was 5 pounds and so little. He was long and skinny. He was deaf from his birth to just before Christmas (that is an entirely different blog and a huge miracle story). He had to stay in the hospital a week in order to get strong enough to come home. He came into this world so tiny and frail... but God knew differently - Caleb is a strong kid with a tender heart. He is passionate and smart.<br />
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I needed a professor in my life.... <b>so God gave me Caleb.</b>Amanda Subletthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589387004288725180noreply@blogger.com0