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	<title>My Quiver Full</title>
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		<title>My Quiver Full</title>
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		<title>I am Trying to Help You!</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/i-am-trying-to-help-you/</link>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 25 Jan 2012 16:05:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[A few weeks ago, Phoebie was trying to change Eliyjah&#8217;s diaper in the living room.  I heard Eliyjah screaming, so I walked into the living room to see if I could offer a hand.  I watched for a moment as &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/i-am-trying-to-help-you/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=829&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#003366;">A few weeks ago, Phoebie was trying to change Eliyjah&#8217;s diaper in the living room.  I heard Eliyjah screaming, so I walked into the living room to see if I could offer a hand.  I watched for a moment as Eliyjah flailed his little body, trying to wiggle away from his big sister.  He was screaming and fussing, like she was hurting him.  After turning him onto his back (yet again), Phoebie yelled, &#8220;I AM TRYING TO HELP YOU!&#8221;  Of course, not understanding, Eliyjah wiggled and screamed some more.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003366;">I got to thinking about how often God must be thinking the same thing with me.  The moment I get a little uncomfortable, I start whining and complaining.  God is probably thinking, &#8220;Beckie!  I am trying to help you!&#8221;  Instead of just allowing Him to mold me, though, I fight against it.  Instead of allowing God to change me, I fuss and flail.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003366;">&#8220;Oh, Lord. Please help me to be moldable.&#8221;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003366;"><em>1 Corinthians 5:7 Therefore purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new lump, since you truly are unleavened. For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us.</em></span></p>
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		<title>My Very Best Day</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/14/my-very-best-day/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 14 Jan 2012 10:50:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[The other day, my kids asked me, &#8220;Momma, what was your very best day?  Was it your birthday?&#8221; After some thought, I knew the answer.  &#8221;My very best day was the day that I married your daddy and the day &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/14/my-very-best-day/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=804&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">The other day, my kids asked me, &#8220;Momma, what was your very best day?  Was it your birthday?&#8221;</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">After some thought, I knew the answer.  &#8221;My very best day was the day that I married your daddy and the day that each of you were born!  Yes, those were my very best days.&#8221;</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">I posted this as my status on facebook and was challenged by a comment.  &#8221;That is a lot of best days.  Now the question is, can you make a comment about each one of them?&#8221;  That got me to thinking&#8230;and remembering&#8230;  </span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">I married Adrian on November 9, 1996.  The day was chilly, as some lonely snowflakes fell from the sky.  After rushing to get to the church on time (if you know me, you know that it wouldn&#8217;t be &#8216;Beckie-like&#8217; if I wasn&#8217;t rushing), I waited for the church doors to open.  I was wearing a dress that had been lovingly stitched by my sister, carrying a bouquet that had been thoughtfully made by my sister-in-law, holding tightly to my daddy&#8217;s arm.  When the doors opened and the music began, I took a deep breath and gazed down the aisle toward the man that I would promise to love forever.  I remember looking at our friends and family, as my dad and I walked slowly to the front of the church&#8230; My grandmas and grandpa, such wonderful examples of true love; my aunts and uncles and cousins, who had watched me grow (and loved me through my not-so-lovable teenage years); my brothers, all grown up and starting their own lives; my sister, the one who had prayed for me before I was even conceived; my mom, my rock when I (often) felt like I was sinking; my friends, the ones who truly knew me and still chose to love me&#8230; Before I knew it, I was standing in front of our pastor with Adrian.  My dad, my wonderful example of who a man should be, had lovingly given me over to another man, trusting him to care for me and love me just as my daddy had done during my growing up years.  I don&#8217;t think that Adrian and I knew what we were getting into.  I think that we, at 19 and 20, thought that this was just the &#8220;next step&#8221;.  We dated, we fell in love, we got engaged&#8230;and we got married.  </span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">15 years later, I look back and I see how very young we were&#8230;how naive we were.  God had a plan that day, and when the Pastor pronounced us &#8220;man and wife&#8221;, He made it good. </span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;"><a href="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/wedding.jpg"><span style="color:#800080;"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-822" title="wedding" src="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/wedding.jpg?w=236&#038;h=300" alt="" width="236" height="300" /></span></a></span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">And so, on November 9, 1996, the story of our family began&#8230;</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our first baby, Iszak, was born on May 11, 1997.  After several uncomfortable weeks of bed rest and pre-eclampsia, it was a huge blessing to finally hold my wee boy.  He made me a mommy on my first Mother&#8217;s Day.  Adrian and I had no idea what we were doing, but we sure enjoyed learning to be parents.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our second baby, Gabryel, was born on February 11, 1999.  I had surgery just after Iszak had been born, and the doctor had told Adrian and me that we may not have more children.  So, when our Gabryel was born, we were thrilled with our miracle boy.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our first girl, Abbigayle, joined our family on October 18, 2000.  A princess from the moment we saw her, we loved our sweet girl.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our forth baby, Phoebie, came into the world on September 24, 2002.  After a miscarriage, it was such a relief to hold our healthy baby girl in our arms.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Two miscarriages after Phoebie left us devastated.  We felt broken.  Having four children, a lot of people didn&#8217;t understand why we were so upset.  It was a very lonely time for our family.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our fifth baby, Malakai, was born on November 19, 2004.  We were worried throughout the entire pregnancy, and his birthdate could not come soon enough.  When we held him, we felt like we could finally breathe.  At 6 days old, he got terribly sick, and we found ourselves filled with worry.  The pediatrician confirmed our worst fear : meningitis.  His first year of life was a rollercoaster of unknowns.  God had big plans for our Malakai.  He is now a healthy 7 year old.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our sixth baby, our third girl, Chloie, was born on May 28, 2006.  Many people thought we were selfish to have another baby when our Malakai was still struggling.  Chloie proved everyone wrong.  She was the motor that got Malakai moving.  When she reached a milestone, he was determined to reach it, too.  Chloie pulled him alongside of her all the way.  </span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our seventh baby, Ayden, joined our family on December 27, 2007.  The kids were so disappointed that he wasn&#8217;t born on Christmas Day, but I think that he wanted Jesus to have His day all to Himself&#8230;and they quickly forgot their disappointment when they *finally* held him in their arms.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our eighth baby, Benjamyn, was born on July 14, 2009.  On our first night in our new house, just as we were drifting to sleep, my water broke.  It was so exciting to bring our baby home to our new home just three short days later.</span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our ninth baby, Eliyjah, was born on October 15, 2010.  Everyone was rooting for a girl, so I worried a bit when the kids came to the hospital to meet their sixth brother.  Chloie, the most &#8220;mothering&#8221; of the littles, was the first to find out.  We let her &#8220;unwrap the baby&#8221;.  When she took off his diaper and saw that he was a boy, she quickly smiled and said, &#8220;That&#8217;s okay.  I still love you!&#8221;  With a sigh of relief, we knew that our Eliyjah would be just fine.  </span></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><span style="color:#800080;">Our tenth baby will be entering the world sometime in April.  We are all excited to meet this tiny one whom the Lord has blessed us with.  </span></em></p>
<p><em><a href="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/beckies-phone-1930.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-823" title="Beckies phone 1930" src="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/beckies-phone-1930.jpg?w=300&#038;h=223" alt="" width="300" height="223" /></a> </em></p>
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		<title>Raising Moles</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/12/raising-moles/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 12 Jan 2012 14:04:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[After putting the kids to bed last night, I realized that I am raising moles.   I&#8217;ve been to many arcades in my life and have always loved the Whac-a-Mole game&#8230; the game where you have a mallet and try &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/12/raising-moles/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=733&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#003300;">After putting the kids to bed last night, I realized that I am raising moles.  </span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#003300;">I&#8217;ve been to many arcades in my life and have always loved the Whac-a-Mole game&#8230; the game where you have a mallet and try to bang the moles in the head every time they pop out of their little holes.  Well, last night I realized that I am playing the mole game every night of my life.  I send the kids to their beds, tuck them in, say prayers, and&#8230;after an hour of &#8220;bedtime&#8221;&#8230;I finally go sit down on the couch for some quiet time.  That is when the moles come out.  One at a time, sometimes two at a time, the kids &#8220;pop up&#8221; in the living room &#8211; they need a drink, or they have to go potty, or they are scared of the shirt on their floor, or they need &#8220;just one more snuggle&#8221;.  It is always something.  Instead of using a mallet to bang them on the heads, I walk them back to their bedrooms and tuck them in all over again.  (After the second or third time of &#8220;popping up&#8221;, however, I sometimes wish I had a mallet!!)  </span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/url-82.jpeg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-799" title="url-8" src="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/url-82.jpeg?w=225&#038;h=300" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#003300;">We&#8217;ve all watched &#8216;Super Nanny&#8217; and KNOW how to get the kids to stop being moles.  You simply tell them it&#8217;s bedtime, then&#8230;after a night or two of walking them back to their bedrooms (sometimes carrying their screaming, flailing bodies back to their bedrooms) without saying a word to them, they turn into little bedtime angels.  Okay, Super Nanny&#8230;what happens when you&#8217;ve gone back to your real life for a few days. Those little bedtime angels surely find their voices again, their sweet little voices, and become moles asking for one last drink or just one more snuggle.  Then what??!!  </span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#003300;">Where are the moles when it&#8217;s time to do chores?  Nobody comes popping up at that time!  (I need a mallet to get them out of their little holes at chore time.)  It&#8217;s only at bedtime.  Perhaps this is because moles are afraid of loud noises??  I do have an awfully loud house!  Perhaps my cute, little moles want to spend time with me when it&#8217;s quiet in my house?  Yes!  That must be it!!</span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="color:#003300;">I am raising sweet moles who prefer to spend time with me in the tranquility of the night.  </span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/mole24.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-800" title="mole2" src="http://littleeblings.files.wordpress.com/2012/01/mole24.jpg?w=300&#038;h=236" alt="" width="300" height="236" /></a></p>
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		<title>Take Two of These&#8230;</title>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 11 Jan 2012 15:06:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[I finally broke down and went to the clinic after struggling with a migraine for three days.  I had tried to treat it at home, but my head just wouldn&#8217;t feel &#8220;right&#8221;.  The doctor gave me some medicine to try &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/11/take-two-of-these/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=731&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#800000;">I finally broke down and went to the clinic after struggling with a migraine for three days.  I had tried to treat it at home, but my head just wouldn&#8217;t feel &#8220;right&#8221;.  The doctor gave me some medicine to try to &#8220;sleep it off&#8221;.  He told me, &#8220;Take this when Adrian gets home, then go straight to bed and sleep through the night.&#8221;  (The doctor told me to go to sleep EARLY?  And stay asleep?!  YAY!!) </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">I went home and made all of the necessary preparations for an early escape to bed &#8211; Girl Scouts was canceled, dinner was in the oven, the house was somewhat picked up, I had Adrian&#8217;s work clothes set out for the morning&#8230; I explained to the kids that I was going to go to bed early, and that they were to be helpful and quiet.  I gave instructions &#8211; who had to clear the table after dinner, who had to load the dishes into the dishwasher and who had to hand wash, who had to pick up the living room before bed&#8230; Everything was ready for me to go to bed when Adrian walked in the door. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">After giving Adrian a quick kiss, I took the medicine.  I sat on the couch with Abbie, crocheting quietly, until I felt sleepy enough to sneak off to the coziness of my bed.  After I snuggled under the blankets, I slipped into a comfortable sleep.  Moments later, I heard music&#8230;very close to my head.  I struggled to open my eyes.  There, sitting right next to me, was Chloie playing on my iPad.  &#8221;Sweety, Mommy really needs to sleep, &#8221; I whispered.  Then, I drifted back to sleep.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">A little bit later, I again heard music next to my head.  This time, when I opened my eyes, Ayden was sitting next to me, playing on my phone.  (Technology isn&#8217;t always all that it&#8217;s cracked up to be.)  &#8221;Ayden, darlin&#8217;,&#8221; I tried to sound patient, &#8220;take Mommy&#8217;s phone into your room to play.&#8221;  (Did I just give him permission to play on my phone?!!)  With that, he left my room and I fell back to sleep.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">&#8220;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!&#8230;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!&#8221;  The screaming pulled me out of my sleep and shot me out of bed.  &#8221;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!!&#8221;  (Who would steal a tooth?!  I just couldn&#8217;t make sense of it.)  &#8221;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!&#8221;  The screaming continued.  As I walked out of my bedroom and down the hallway, I found the screaming child. Sitting on top of the kids&#8217; bathroom counter was Chloie, holding her tooth, screaming uncontrollably.  Adrian was standing in the doorway, staring at her blankly. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">&#8220;Sweety,&#8221; I whispered, hoping to quiet her screams. &#8220;What happened to your tooth?&#8221;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">&#8220;I was trying to open the Tums&#8221;&#8230;sob, sniffle&#8230;&#8221;and my tooth flipped off!&#8221;  Chloie has a &#8216;thing&#8217; with Tums right now.  Apparently, she found the new bottle that I bought and was trying to be independent, opening it herself.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">&#8220;Well, I guess your tooth was ready to come out to make room for your big tooth!&#8221;  I tried to find some enthusiasm through my sleep fog.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">Obviously, those were not comforting words to Chloie.  &#8221;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!&#8230;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!&#8221;  She started screaming again, inconsolably. </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">Adrian, thinking quick, took the tooth from her hands and offered to put it back.  (Really?!)  She quieted down and opened her mouth.  (Ooops.  I guess that wasn&#8217;t such a great idea.)  &#8221;Oh, honey&#8230;&#8221;  Adrian started giggling, uncontrollably.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">&#8220;I WANT MY TOOTH BACK!&#8221;  She was screaming again.  I just shook my head at the two of them and went back to my bedroom, shutting the door to drown out the screams.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">At last, the screaming turned to laughing &#8211; Way to go, Adrian! &#8211; and I was able to go back to sleep.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">A few hours later, from another bedroom, another scream broke the silence of our sleeping house.  &#8221;MONSTER GET ME!!  MOMMA, MONSTER GET ME!!&#8221;  Good grief!!  I opened my eyes, but didn&#8217;t move.  I waited.  Moments later another scream.  &#8221;MOOOOOOMMMMMAAAAA!  MONSTER GET ME!&#8221;  Sleepily, I pushed the blankets back and stumbled out of my bedroom.  The screams were coming from Benjamyn&#8217;s room this time.  I opened the door and he looked at me with huge eyes, throwing his arms up in the air for me to pick him up out of his crib.  I stripped his pajamas off, changed his diaper, then took him to bed with me.  As I laid him on the bed, I noticed how full my bed was.  Rubbing my eyes, to see more clearly, I saw Adrian, Ayden, Chloie, and now Benjamyn, all in my bed.  Where was I supposed to sleep?  And&#8230;when did Ayden and Chloie come into my room??  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">I </span><span style="color:#800000;">quietly lifted Ayden into my arms, and carried him to his bed.  Thankfully, he stayed asleep.  I peeked into the girls&#8217; room to see where I could put Chloie&#8230; It was no wonder she came to my bed.  The bigger two girls were sprawled across their entire bed.  Too tired to move any more kids, I just pushed Chloie a little closer to Adrian, then pushed Benjamyn closer to Chloie, and slipped back into bed&#8230;all 2 inches of bed that was left for me.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">One short hour later, it was time for Adrian to wake up for work&#8230;and time for our day to start.  Perhaps, again tonight, I will &#8220;take two of these&#8230;and (try to) sleep until morning&#8221;.   </span></p>
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		<title>Proverbs 31 Woman &#8211; Week 1</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/07/proverbs-31-woman-week-1/</link>
		<comments>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/07/proverbs-31-woman-week-1/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 07 Jan 2012 16:12:28 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I have decided to try to adopt the character traits of the Proverbs 31 woman, by working on one character trait each week.  According to Answers.com, it takes 21 days to condition a new habit.  I am hoping that by &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/07/proverbs-31-woman-week-1/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=523&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#333333;">I have decided to try to adopt the character traits of the Proverbs 31 woman, by working on one character trait each week.  According to Answers.com, it takes 21 days to condition a new habit.  I am hoping that by the end of 2012, I will be much more like the Proverbs 31 woman than I am today.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">And so begins my journey&#8230;</span></p>
<p><em><span style="color:#333333;">Proverbs 31:10 Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies. </span></em></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">Webster defines &#8220;virtuous&#8221; as &#8216;morally excellent&#8217;.  What is &#8216;moral excellence&#8217;?  &#8221;Moral&#8221;, according to Webster, means &#8216;relating to principles of right and wrong in behavior&#8217;.  &#8221;Excellence&#8221;, according to Webster, means &#8216;an excellent or valuable quality&#8217;.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">To be a virtuous wife, I should display behaviors of valuable quality.  I should be aware of my behavior, and strive to always be on my very best behavior.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">A virtuous wife&#8217;s value is far above rubies.  Why not diamonds??  It seems that rubies and sapphires are mentioned more in the Bible than diamonds.  In some cultures, the ruby is called &#8220;the king of the gems&#8221;.  Rubies (and sapphires) are actually more rare and more valuable than diamonds.  (More valuable than diamonds?!!)</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">The ruby is mentioned in the Bible, at least, six times.  Job 28:18<em> &#8221;No mention shall be made of coral or quartz, For the price of wisdom is above rubies.</em>&#8221;  Proverbs 3:15 <em>&#8220;She</em> (&#8220;she&#8221;, in this verse, is &#8220;wisdom&#8221;) <em> is more precious than rubies, And all the things you may desire cannot compare to her.&#8221;</em>  Proverbs 8:11 <em>&#8220;For wisdom is better than rubies, And all the things one may desire cannot be compared with her.&#8221;</em>  Proverbs 20:15 &#8220;<em>There is gold and a multitude of rubies, But the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel.&#8221;</em>  Proverbs 31:10 <em>&#8220;Who can find a virtuous wife?  For her worth is far above rubies.&#8221;</em>  Lamentations 4:7 <em>&#8220;Her Nazirites were brighter than snow And whiter than milk; They were more rubby in body than rubies, Like sapphire in appearance.&#8221;</em>  The Biblical meaning of the ruby is preciousness, of great value, costly glories, wisdom, and apprised treasure.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">According to Proverbs 31:10, a virtuous wife is precious, of great value, wise, and an apprised treasure.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#333333;">This week, I am going to condition myself to become a virtuous wife.  I am going to condition my behavior to be morally excellent and of great treasure.  Yes, I want my worth to be above rubies&#8230;</span></p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
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		<title>New Year&#8217;s Day Photo</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/05/new-years-day-photo/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 05 Jan 2012 14:07:54 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[It was New Year&#8217;s Eve night, we had just finished watching the ball drop&#8230; I asked the kids to sit for &#8220;just one more second&#8221;.  I wanted a picture of this very moment.  Ayden, sleeping on Ike&#8217;s lap, the other &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2012/01/05/new-years-day-photo/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=518&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#003300;"><em>It was New Year&#8217;s Eve night, we had just finished watching the ball drop&#8230; I asked the kids to sit for &#8220;just one more second&#8221;.  I wanted a picture of this very moment.  Ayden, sleeping on Ike&#8217;s lap, the other kids all piled sleepily against each other.  With a few moans, the kids sat up a little bit and waited as I found the camera.  I finally snapped the first photo at 12:06.  How do I know that it was 12:06?  Each minute that passed was welcomed by another grumbled, &#8220;Have you found the camera YET!?&#8221; </em></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003300;"><em>I took several photos, each time asking another Little to please smile or stop picking his nose.  Finally, I settled on the 8th photo&#8230;not because it was a super great picture, but because all of the big kids left the room to get ready for bed.  </em></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003300;"><em>Not sure that I&#8217;d have a photo worthy enough to document this special moment in time, I begged Benjamyn (who is always ready to have his picture taken) to stand in front of the calendar for &#8220;just one picture, buddy&#8221;.  He happily stood in front of our crisp new 2012 calendar and smiled&#8230;then blinked&#8230;.just as I snapped the photo.  Three more quick photos and Benjamyn, too, walked away.  I was left with a camera, and 12 photos on my SD card, that made my children look more like naughty hooligans than like the littles angels I saw, sitting on the couch, when I had decided to take the photo 9 minutes before.  </em></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003300;"><em>This morning, as I was getting ready to share my &#8220;2012 Ebling New Year&#8217;s Day Photo&#8221;, I discovered that my camera is missing&#8230;again.  Perhaps I should just hold the memory in my mind&#8230;perhaps the picture is better left there &#8211; my sweet Littles, snuggled in on the couch, watching the ball drop&#8230;sending out 2011 and bringing in 2012.  </em></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#003300;"><em>Happy 2012!!  Wishing us all blessings&#8230;and photo-worthy moments!!</em></span></p>
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		<title>Titus 2 Woman</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/12/29/titus-2-woman/</link>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 29 Dec 2011 19:03:59 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Oh, how I long to be a Titus 2 woman.  Titus 2:3-5 &#8220;The older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things— that they admonish the young women to love &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/12/29/titus-2-woman/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=411&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#800000;">Oh, how I long to be a Titus 2 woman.  Titus 2:3-5 &#8220;<em>The older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things— that they admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed.</em>&#8220;</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">I think about the women that I looked to as mentors when I was younger, and the women who still hold that place in my life.  I am so thankful that I have had women to teach me to be the wife and mother that the Lord is calling me to be.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">I have become very aware that there are now younger women watching me&#8230;(when did I become an <em>older woman</em>?)&#8230;listening to the way that I talk about, and to, my husband&#8230;watching how I interact with my children&#8230; Women who see the way I choose to dress, how I carry myself in a crowd, the words I speak&#8230; Just as I imitated the women who I saw as mentors, I need to remember that there are women imitating me.  Do I want those women to say ugly words that hurt their families?  Do I want them to wear a blouse that might be seen as provocative ?  Do I want them to see me behaving in a way that is inappropriate and, in turn, behave inappropriately themselves?  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">I want to keep my house neat and tidy, a home that my husband and children can be proud of.  I want to do my daily chores with a smile, knowing that I am blessing my family.  I want to dress modestly and feminine.  I want to have Jesus&#8217; heart for people, loving the unlovable and caring for those who have no one to care for them.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">When I speak of Adrian, I want only to speak in love.  When I tear him down, even to others, I tear down my marriage.  When I speak of my children, I want only to speak positively.  When I speak negatively of them, I speak life into bad behavior and disobedience.  When I speak at all, I want my words to please the Lord.  I want to refrain from gossip and malicious talk.  I want to speak life into all situations.  I want to have a willing heart to pray for people when I feel the Lord laying it on my heart.  I want to see people as Jesus sees them.</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">Yes, I long to be a Titus 2 woman&#8230;to be the woman that the Lord has called me to be&#8230;to be an example to the younger women&#8230;and to do my Father&#8217;s work.</span></p>
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		<title>Is This Your Last??</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/12/27/is-this-your-last/</link>
		<comments>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/12/27/is-this-your-last/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 27 Dec 2011 18:49:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[It started when I was pregnant with my third baby.  The question: &#8220;Is this your last baby?&#8221;  When our third baby turned out to be a girl, people asked if we were finally done now that we finally got a &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/12/27/is-this-your-last/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=407&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<address><span style="color:#333399;">It started when I was pregnant with my third baby.  The question: &#8220;Is this your last baby?&#8221;  When our third baby turned out to be a girl, people asked if we were finally done now that we finally got a daughter.  (Our first two babies were boys.)  As if we only had babies to end up with a boy and a girl, and our second baby was just a mishap.  When we got pregnant with our fourth baby, people became downright rude!  The unsolicited advice about birth control and family planning was overwhelming.  &#8221;Don&#8217;t you know HOW that happens?!&#8221;&#8230;&#8221;How many children are you going to HAVE?!&#8221;&#8230;&#8221;You have three healthy kids.  Why would you want to test fate?!&#8221;&#8230; &#8220;Aren&#8217;t you concerned about the Earth&#8217;s resources?!&#8221;&#8230;and on and on it went.  With our fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth pregnancies we heard more of the same.  Now that I am pregnant with our tenth baby, people have become even more liberal with their opinions and comments.  Some of the questions come from true curiosity: &#8220;How do you cook for all of those kids?&#8221;&#8230;&#8221;How many loads of laundry do you wash per day?&#8221;&#8230;&#8221;How do you spread your time?&#8221;&#8230; Other questions come from pure ugliness: &#8220;How can you possibly love them all??&#8221;&#8230;&#8221;You ARE getting older.  What would you do if your baby has downs syndrome?&#8221; (I&#8217;m only 35 and some of my friends haven&#8217;t even begun having babies yet.) &#8230;and, from a dear family friend, &#8220;Can&#8217;t you keep your legs closed?!&#8221; (Are you kidding me?? I am married, after all!)  </span></address>
<address> </address>
<address><span style="color:#333399;">It seems that having a large family makes me part of an exclusive club.  I am often compared to other large families: &#8220;What do you think of Jon and Kate Plus 8?&#8221; (Well, since they are divorced, I am sure hoping I have a better outcome for my family.)&#8230;&#8221;Do you secretly want to be &#8216;Octomom&#8217;?&#8221; (Umm&#8230; No, thanks!)&#8230;&#8221;Are you trying to keep up with that lady from &#8216;Nineteen Kids and Counting&#8217;?&#8221; (Again, no.  I&#8217;d love to have nineteen kids, but I am not trying to keep up with anyone.)  My sister has eight children, so people even compare me to her: &#8220;You already beat your sister, why are you having MORE babies?!&#8221;  </span></address>
<address> </address>
<address><span style="color:#333399;">I am often surprised when my family and close friends make rude comments.  For as long as I can remember, I have wanted a large family.  &#8217;Twelve babies&#8217; was my dream.  Hearing that I am pregnant with number ten should not be a shock to anyone who has known me since childhood.  </span></address>
<address> </address>
<address><span style="color:#333399;">Often, it is people who have never met my children, who have the most to say: &#8220;Gosh! That must be overwhelming!&#8221; (Some days.)&#8230;&#8221;Aren&#8217;t you afraid you are going to lose one of them somewhere?&#8221; (They know that they better stay with me. I have nine children. I am certainly not leaving eight of them to find one disobedient child.)&#8230;&#8221;My taxes are paying for your children!&#8221; (Only if your taxes pay my husband&#8217;s salary.)&#8230;&#8221;You obviously can&#8217;t take your kids anywhere!&#8221; (Actually, our children are quite well behaved. They have been taught manners.)&#8230;&#8221;I feel bad for your kids, they must not have anything new!&#8221; (My children have been taught to appreciate what they have &#8211; hand me downs or new.)&#8230;&#8221;You are so selfish! Don&#8217;t you think about the kids you already have?!&#8221; (All of my kids love each other. They always have someone to play with and someone to argue with.)&#8230;</span></address>
<address> </address>
<address><span style="color:#333399;">Then, there are the comments about me, personally: &#8220;Wow! You look good (insert pause) for being pregnant with your tenth baby!&#8221; (Should I say &#8216;thank you&#8217; or be offended??  Would I look bad if I was pregnant with my first baby?)&#8230;</span></address>
<address> </address>
<address><span style="color:#333399;">I believe that I was born to be a mom.  From the moment I could pretend, I carried around baby dolls.  My family is my God-given ministry, a blessing.  </span></address>
<address> </address>
<address><span style="color:#333399;">Next time, instead of judging a mom with many children, just smile at her.  Perhaps you will be the only person who will smile at her all day.  When you see a mom, shopping with her children, don&#8217;t grumble about them walking in front of you as you look at cereal&#8230;instead, give her kids a wink.  Perhaps her children have already been to three other stores, and are doing their best to behave.  When you see a family getting out of a van, don&#8217;t count the giggling kids and gasp disgustedly.  (We already feel like clowns stepping out of a clown car.)  Give them all a smile and continue on your way.  Perhaps they are finally stretching their legs after a five hour drive.  When you see a mom with nine children (soon to be ten), walking slowly through the zoo, it might just be me.</span></address>
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		<title>Misplaced Anger?</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/11/15/misplaced-anger/</link>
		<comments>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/11/15/misplaced-anger/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Nov 2011 15:16:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/?p=404</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This morning I find myself very angry at Adam and Eve.  Perhaps my anger is misplaced.   As I look at the piles and piles of dirty laundry in the basement, I wonder what life would have been like had &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/11/15/misplaced-anger/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=404&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#000080;">This morning I find myself very angry at Adam and Eve.  Perhaps my anger is misplaced.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000080;">As I look at the piles and piles of dirty laundry in the basement, I wonder what life would have been like had they not sinned.  One thing I know is that the Bible says, in Genesis 2:25, &#8220;And they were both (Adam and Eve) naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.&#8221;  Then, just a few short verses later, in Genesis 3:7, the Bible says, &#8220;And the eyes of them both (Adam and Eve) were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons.&#8221;  Before they sinned, there would have been no laundry in my basement&#8230;after they sinned, the piles are are ceiling-high.  </span></p>
<p><span style="color:#000080;">So, my question is: Who do I blame?!!  I&#8217;m just sayin&#8217;&#8230;</span></p>
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		<title>Thankful Thursday</title>
		<link>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/10/06/thankful-thursday/</link>
		<comments>http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/10/06/thankful-thursday/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Oct 2011 12:42:43 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>My Quiver Full</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Today is Thankful Thursday! Thirteen things I am thankful for&#8230; Indian summer days infant Tylenol to soothe teething babies my grandma&#8217;s coffee mug flip flops Sirius satellite radio  my ipad kids playing quietly my giant wall calendar to keep track &#8230; <a href="http://littleeblings.wordpress.com/2011/10/06/thankful-thursday/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=littleeblings.wordpress.com&amp;blog=5914990&amp;post=402&amp;subd=littleeblings&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#800000;">Today is Thankful Thursday!</span></p>
<p><span style="color:#800000;">Thirteen things I am thankful for&#8230;</span></p>
<p><em><span style="color:#800000;">Indian summer days</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color:#800000;">infant Tylenol to soothe teething babies</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color:#800000;">my grandma&#8217;s coffee mug </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color:#800000;">flip flops</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color:#800000;">Sirius satellite radio </span></em><br />
<em><span style="color:#800000;">my ipad<br />
</span></em><em><span style="color:#800000;">kids playing quietly<br />
my giant wall calendar to keep track of the craziness<br />
bubbles in the kids&#8217; bathtub<br />
sheer window curtains<br />
colorful leaves in Autumn<br />
crunchy grass under my feet<br />
Bounty paper towels<br />
</span></em></p>
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