tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54612289227302053652024-02-21T11:54:50.088-05:00The Gaskill RascalsMrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.comBlogger161125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-30508457703877823682013-03-10T14:54:00.001-04:002013-03-10T14:54:37.042-04:00Bananas, detox, and the discipline of fasting.Did you know that bananas are technically a berry? Weird, huh?(thank you @UberFacts) <br />
We eat a lot of bananas in my house, And bananas are tricky. Buy too many and they go bad before we eat them; buy too few and I start to get snippy with the kid that just grabbed the last one. The One I needed for baby's breakfast. I don't always notice these kinds of details, but food has been on my mind lately. My bible study has been doing a book together by Jen Hatmaker, called Seven. The main premise is how we live in major excess and how fasting in these areas opens up our hearts to joy and freedom in Christ. This first week was focused on food and the goal was to pick seven foods and eat only those for seven days. <br />
So, like most "homework" in my life, I have a tendency to do just enough to get by and make a lot of excuses for what I don't do. I am the queen of justifying my choices. I might have turned this into a list of nine foods rather than seven and somehow justified my daily cup(s) of black coffee. My fast wasn't exactly by the book. That was the point, though. You don't fast for the sake of fasting, but so that you create margin...space for God to work. I also learned that I eat I lot of little things that easily go unnoticed by everyone except my waistline. Bite of cheese here, a spoonful of peanut butter there. And isn't that the way it is with God? It isn't the big stuff keeping us from joy in Him, but the little distractions. This week of less sugar, less choices, less unhealthy stuff has led to more headaches, more complaining, and more selfish itsallaboutme behavior. Apparently, sugar is like crack to my system and taking it away sent me on a downward crashing spiral that ended in my screaming at my kids. But when the detox subsided and my body started to feel healthier, my soul started to experience the same cleansing. I have listened more, trusted Him in new ways, and seen how he speaks to us in our daily routines. When did food become more than just a blessing and a fuel for life? When did it become the answer for stress, pain, and boredom? What about the person that doesn't have the kind of excess I have or even goes days with out any food at all? Am I so selfish to think I deserve that sleeve of thin mints? <br />
Pete Bowell said something at Hope today that had me thinking. We have become too central in our own stories. Why do we do that? Why is it all about me sometimes? In Colossians 1:17 it says in Him all things hold together. I am newly aware that He is at work in even the little details. It isn't a coincidence that I have had so many opportunities this week to talk about what He is teaching me. When the junk is cleared away, we have space to fill...and when we are filled up, we have overflow to share. I don't want to be living the barely scraping by, empty bucket kind of life. Less of me, more of Him: keeping that sentence on repeat in my brain.<br />
This week, bananas were on my approved food list and I have enjoyed each and every one I ate. When you take away the junk and start to only eat a healthy list of foods, your body starts to savor the good stuff. Frozen bananas were like a dessert to me, maybe even better than dessert. Just like the good food that fills, I long for the good Word that fills(cheesy...I know. But true)<br />
I feel like life this week has been sweeter. <br />
And I didn't need high fructose corn syrup to get there. Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-92227382158938420932012-01-23T11:25:00.001-05:002012-01-23T11:25:08.996-05:00One of these things is not like the other....This holiday season, when we would go look at Christmas lights around Richmond, we had an ongoing joke about our arrival back home. Scott would say something like "Wow, look at this house! It is sooooo cool. These people must be really awesome." And then the rest of us would comment on how great the family that lived there must be and how we should park in their driveway and go meet them. In the midst of our comic routine, Josh would always remind us that it was just a joke and actually, we live in this house, not a strange family. Thanks, kid. I guess this is an important stage in child development...understanding real and make believe, right? <br />
The boys have decided to keep the storyline going through the winter and will often make up imaginary people that they will meet when we open the doors to our house. They talk about the ages of the kids and what rooms the kids sleep in and what toys they will play with when they meet them. Sometimes they even pretend to talk to the other kids. A little goofy, but all in good fun.<br />
<i>sidenote: I am also hoping this is a part of normal child development. You know, imaginary play and creative story telling? Right, that's exactly what it is. I don't really need to call any child psychologists over to our house, right? My kids are completely normal. Yes, we will go with normal. </i><br />
So, here is where it gets a little weird. The names for the imaginary kids often change. Sometimes we will meet another "Danny", or a "Josh", or a "Joseph", or (real) Danny's favorite "Roger". The names usually are connected to a story we read in the bible or a book. Sometimes it is names of (real) friends. Pretty typical names....<br />
Every kid has to have some imaginary friends, right?<br />
And every kid names their imaginary friends, right?<br />
Ok, so how many of your kids have an imaginary friend named <i>Hot Fire Car</i>?<br />
<br />
(silence) (awkward pause)<br />
<br />
Any one got the number of a good child psychologist? I have a 3 year old that he/she might need to meet.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-60396755107676893442012-01-11T15:24:00.002-05:002012-01-11T15:24:57.405-05:00I wish my dog could talk...I just finished watching UP with my kids on this rainy, stay inside kind of day. Before we began, I wondered if I was making a bad choice with the PG rating and intense moments throughout the movie. I was even more hesitant about my choice when I had tears streaming down my face in the first 10 minutes and I had to explain to my very sensitive 5 year old why mommy is crying. <br />Not that crying is unusual or abnormal for their mother. <br />
It's the pregnancy hormones. <br />
I swear.<br />
Except, what is my excuse for being quick to cry for the other 28 years of my life that have not involved me being with child? I am a little on the weepy side when it comes to matters of the heart. And I am especially sensitive to anything involving growing old, grown men showing pain, and heart wrenching musical interludes....ok, so UP is probably not the best movie choice for me. <br />
Fortunately, we survived the movie and the boys went on to play and leave their mascara stained mom to go play in the playroom. They are pretty resilient, unlike me. <br />
Then enters our dog in the room with his best "mommy, please play with me, love me, give me attention" expression. He probably just wanted to eat, but I like to think it was affection for his master.<br />
It got me thinking about what a cool invention it would be for dog's to have a voice box, just like Dug in UP. I get that it is just a movie and not a possible scenario, but think of the possibilities. All that affection and unconditional love able to be expressed through a voice? To know what is behind those longing and soulful eyes of my furry best friend? (feed me, feed me, feed me?)<br />
I feel bad that we often pretend to talk for our dog and it is in a voice that is not very flattering. We love our sweet Pollack, but we don't think he is the smartest puppy. <br />
He is faithful, loving, and wonderful with our kids, but he eats poo. <br />
Poo-eating seems to qualify him for a lower IQ than his non-poo eating peers. <br />
But I really would love to hear what he has to say. Not so much about the poo eating, but all the other general observations from his point of view.<br />
I also love that he has been more aware of me lately. He is following me around more often and more attentive to my needs. I often wonder if he can sense my increasing needs and is trying to care for his pack. He was such a good dog with the first two boys. I felt like he immediately looked at them as a new part of our clan and wanted to protect and care for them. Maybe it was just his love for the taste of baby spit-up, but he was always around, always protecting.(Seriously? Poo eating? Spit-up licking? Our dog has issues) But I am ever thankful for a dog that we completely trust around our kids.<br />
And I wonder what he thinks about all of us?<br />
If only we could get a doggy voice box....Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-59204588503636684732012-01-04T21:32:00.004-05:002012-01-04T21:33:07.918-05:00The view from our table<br />
<br />
My children discovered a new favorite football movie, <a href="http://www.facingthegiants.com/dvdresources.php" target="_blank">Facing the Giants</a>,
over the holiday break. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it is a
great family movie, despite the low budget and no-name actors. After the
fourth time of viewing it, my children had happily embraced the message and
truth. And after the fourth time, mommy was ready to hide the dvd.
But I was happy that they were enjoying the positive message. At one
point in the film, the coach tells his team that "If we win, we praise
God. If we lose, we praise God." Good stuff.<br />
Skip ahead to a few days after Christmas and our usual trip to the Henrico
dump to dispose of our holiday trash and attic clean-out. In the process
of throwing out boxes, my engagement ring made its way into a truck sized
dumpster. As soon as we discovered that it was missing, we made plans
with the staff at the dump to arrive back the next day at 7:30am to dig through
the dumpster in search of my ring. That evening at the dinner table we
were prompted by our son to pray that we might find my jewelry the next
morning. During the prayer, I said something along the lines of "no
matter what happens, we trust You God." My 5 year old perked up and
quickly made the connection between what I prayed and his favorite part of the
movie. "Mommy, we could say...If we find the ring, we praise
God. If we don't find the ring, we praise God." I was deeply
moved by the moment and realized that my child had just spoken great truth to
me.<br />
That next day, while I stood at the top of the Henrico dump, freezing cold
with tears of frustration streaming down my face, I was given hope by those
words my son spoke. Despite hours of digging and searching, we never
found my ring, but I believe we have gained something worth more than all the
diamonds in the world. Even in the tough times, my family was
united. We didn't shelter our children from the frustration we were
experiencing, but we embraced it as a moment to grow together. And
thankfully we took time to listen to our children, because it was their words
that had us remembering all that we have to be thankful for, even in tough
times. We were given a gift of truth through our children and it was a <b>moment
at the table</b> that gave us the strength to persevere.<br />
I do not know what your New Year is like and what your family is dealing
with as we move into 2012. In the grand scheme, a lost ring is so minor
in comparison to some of the pain and suffering people are experiencing around
us. But I encourage you to go through it with your family. Invite
your kids into the good and the bad. Talk about what God is teaching you
and listen to what they have to say about His truth. This is what <i>keeping the end in mind</i> is about.
Faith isn’t about our current circumstances, no matter how painful they are,
but remembering that God will work through our lives in ways that we can't even
begin to imagine.<br />
In facing a time of trial in Daniel 3:16-18, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
said these words as they were about to be thrown in a fiery furnace.
"<sup>17</sup>If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve
is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand.
<sup>18</sup> But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that
we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set
up." Basically, this was the lesson we were learning at our dinner
table. Whether we survive our trials, win the game, find the ring....<b>or not</b>,<i> no matter what</i> <b>He
is worthy of praise</b>. I believe that God is doing something big
in our hearts, even through our suffering, and He can do the same for you.<br />
Today, let's begin embracing those moments of family time together.<br />
<br />
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<br />Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-56099624911829030322011-11-15T12:10:00.001-05:002011-11-15T12:11:02.858-05:00Who gets my best?I asked myself that question today. Is my family getting my best?<br />
Before
I lead you to assume that I am advocating perfection, I need to clear
that up. I am NOT talking about perfection. This is not a post about
being cookie-cutter little families who aren't honest about their
issues. My story I want to share is actually about a moment of
confession and humility from my child.<br />
I rarely have an
opportunity to stay and visit with my son's preschool class, but today I
was pressured by the longing eyes of my child to stay for a little bit
of circle time. Our 5 year old has an amazing teacher at Agape who
welcomes families to stick around and see how they spend 5 days a week,
from 9-noon. She began circle time with different types of prayer to
God; things they were thankful for, things they were sorry for,
opportunities to ask for God's help. As you can imagine, the
conversations were sweet and comical. "I am thankful for being able to
stretch my fingers like this"(demonstration included.) "I am sorry for
not listening to my sister and for telling her that I only have one
sweater"(huh?) Then my child raised his hand to share. As the mother, I
shifted uncomfortably as I wondered what he might share.<br />
My child
proceeded to tell an "I'm sorry" prayer about something that happened
in our home last night. I will spare you the details he shared in
class, but the basis was an event of him not obeying and how truly sorry
he was for being disobedient. We had a sweet mommy/son moment and the
teacher recognized that I was touched by his confession and the fact
that he seemed truly remorseful. She proceeded to pull me aside and
tell me how he often shares things he is sorry about and also asks daily
for his class to pray for his baby brother growing in my belly. She
started cry, I started to cry, and I leaned in for another hug from my
son.<br />
I realized in that moment that my child's teachers and
classmates got to see a side of my son that we do not always see. Even
though it was a moment of confession, it was a good moment. They see
daily what I sometimes miss: humility, kindness, a gentle nature. Not
the world's view of a perfect son, but his character through good and
bad. Why don't I always get to see that? Why do we argue instead of
apologize? How come teachers and classmates get to see the best?<br />
Then
I asked myself, do I always give my best? Or do I let my guard down
with my family, because I know they will love me no matter what? In
times when I sin and hurt them, am I quick to ask forgiveness and admit
my fault? The fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience,
kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We
can't deny that sin creeps into family situations, but how we trust God
in the midst of it is what matters. Do we continue to pull from the
emptiness of us or do we cling to the fullness of God and all He has to
offer us. His fruit is for us.<br />
I am proud of who my son is
becoming and the part of his character that is reflective of God's
fruit. And I am going to ask God to help me offer the best to him and
to all of my family. Our children are going to learn so much more from
our humility than from our attempt at a perfect picture. <br />
Let's offer
our families HIS best today.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-25736929259576663292011-11-15T08:06:00.001-05:002011-11-15T08:22:29.007-05:00tap. tap. Is this thing on?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Who are those cute little pumpkin heads? That would be my big boys, who are growing up too fast. I like to tell D and J to stop growing, which brings laughter and a rolling of the eyes from a 5 and 3 year old. "C'mon mom, we can't stop growing. It just happens." You are right, son, but I wish I could bottle up this cuteness to be brought out at a later date. Say, maybe those teenage years when you aren't quite so cuddly?<br />
I am anticipating a re-entry to the world of personal blogging in the next few months. (yes, mom...you and the other 3 people that read this will be thrilled!) I will attempt to give comical updates to the world of the Gaskillrascals as we work our way down the path of parenthood.<br />
One reason for my long break was a job that seems to take much of my time. I love what I get to do at Hope. It seemed like the perfect job for someone with my skills. I get to work with families, yet my scenery is constantly changing. I advocate in my church for a family ministry perspective, while working with some terrific women. I have a schedule that is flexible and I am able to be home more often than not. But life is ever-changing and this next stage is going to bring more challenges than this mom can handle. I am taking the wise advice of my friend/co-worker and <a href="http://www.nicoleunice.com/" target="_blank">blogger</a> Nicole once said to me....when you start something new, sometimes something else has to be dropped. And for us, the entry of another rascal to our family qualifies as a reason to drop things. When we have our third boy in February, I imagine lots of things will be dropped. But those of you out there with a minor case of adult add can relate to my need to be doing lots of things. I like having many balls in the air. So, blogging will be one of those balls. Maybe we could say an outlet for my energy? <br />
Looking forward to sharing some funny stories...better go fix breakfast, so that one of those stories is not about me being late to drop off my kids at school. <br />
<br />Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-71916271081871691952010-09-13T15:53:00.000-04:002010-09-13T15:53:51.757-04:00My kids are old enough for school?Really, are they that old? <br />
They were such big boys today. No tears for them. Kisses for Mommy and off to play.<br />
Then Mommy drove off with the tears.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOICnWbELP_O9_PVsYcybM-N9waCDko0vmKDPJ_81A_Auo6ntRx9BLNLdZxFVXCxN8Knd7X1sUqldwv13XnLV8z-xgyLdGeCxLE9QTCBzRZe4ZyAL2VvEhkaTLqAhFr5PgbvEa_53Wspcu/s1600/IMG_5092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOICnWbELP_O9_PVsYcybM-N9waCDko0vmKDPJ_81A_Auo6ntRx9BLNLdZxFVXCxN8Knd7X1sUqldwv13XnLV8z-xgyLdGeCxLE9QTCBzRZe4ZyAL2VvEhkaTLqAhFr5PgbvEa_53Wspcu/s320/IMG_5092.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-4835792845247443182010-08-27T08:30:00.003-04:002010-08-28T08:23:21.015-04:00Guest Blogger: Nicole Unice<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdNTRR7ghue0mEIlUclnGc6hw55Ns5aOyLwFlG8LOXklcTM1mrFdGGotpJWljIMIGXl4-OdmQB3w0Dhskvf8aeM05NZMYKeHIoNoA_fYNfbGkNZ6rHa4xWj3dYX1vW06YiVC58M4H5oTr/s1600/DivinePursuitCover+sm.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510066750730732098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDdNTRR7ghue0mEIlUclnGc6hw55Ns5aOyLwFlG8LOXklcTM1mrFdGGotpJWljIMIGXl4-OdmQB3w0Dhskvf8aeM05NZMYKeHIoNoA_fYNfbGkNZ6rHa4xWj3dYX1vW06YiVC58M4H5oTr/s200/DivinePursuitCover+sm.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 129px;" /></a>So, remember when I got to be <a href="http://www.thestubbornservant.com/2010/07/13/guest-post-photographer-anne-gaskill-on-mothering/">guest post</a> on a friend's blog? crazy, right? Well, the Gaskill Rascals are excited to welcome that friend, Nicole Unice, to be our guest post for today.<br />
We feel honored to be a part of her blog tour!<br />
If you have not had the chance to meet Nicole, then you are missing out. I introduced her a few weeks ago <a href="http://gaskillrascals.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-have-friend-you-should-know.html">here</a>. She has recently published a Study of Jonah called The Divine Pursuit. You need to check it out. Like right now. (btw: 100% of the proceeds from the study support <a href="http://www.ijm.org/">International Justice Mission</a>. very cool)<br />
<br />
So, here comes the good stuff......<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Becoming a counselor is a weird sort of schooling. What other graduate program teaches you how to listen, ask good questions, and read interpersonal dynamics? Who but future counselors study nonverbal cues, birth order, and “solution-focused questions?” Counseling techniques easily transform into entertaining party tricks: “Let me guess,” I imagine saying to my unsuspecting acquaintance while swirling my drink, “your deepest fear is turning into your mother, whom you find yourself resembling more each day?”</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>There’s another side to studying therapist techniques. Developing questions that pry back even the hardest shell takes practice. And there’s only one person that accompanies me to sleep, to the bathroom, to work—other than my toddler. It’s me. I am the unwilling recipient of my own therapy.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>So I paid attention when I got all emotional about the story of Jonah. Do you know him? The bible Jonah, the telling-God-N-O Jonah, the swallowed-by-a-fish Jonah? Think way back to Vacation Bible School. You probably sang a song about him or maybe smoothed him up on a feltboard next to a smiling whale.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Jonah disobeys and isn’t loving, or at least, that’s the point when we tell the VBS version. But when I prepared a teaching series for a women’s group on the book of Jonah, I found myself stirred up, almost resentful, of what Jonah had become in those children’s stories. Like Jonah is a flat caricature painted by a heavenly hand to make us feel good about ourselves. Hey, at least I didn’t have to be swallowed by a big fish to listen to God. At least I wouldn’t defy God like that.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>I got emotional because I thought Jonah could have had some reasons for running. That maybe following God’s orders and going to Nineveh was something excruciatingly hard for Jonah, something that felt impossible to do.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>And then the therapist in me listened closely and asked a piercing question: “Hmmm….interesting. What are your Ninevehs?”</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Hmmm is right.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>I pondered my own Ninevehs and the Ninevehs of those I’ve counseled. I thought about the pattern of fleeing, obeying and resisting God found in Jonah—and found in me. I considered the things in life that would make me want to lob a fat N-O in God’s face, modern-Day Ninevehs like:</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Living joyfully in difficult relationships.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Struggling through a hard marriage (or waiting on a good one).</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Fighting with addictions.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Battling fear.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Making peace with the past. Wrestling with unforgiveness. Learning to wait. Embracing uncertainity. Raising difficult children. Choosing to care for aging parents. Going back to work when you want to stay home. Having children. Not having children. And the list goes on….</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Holy Spirit calling: Jonah is me.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Jonah is you, too, if you’ve ever wanted space from God. If you’ve ever escaped from Him in heart or in action. Jonah is you if you’ve ever wondered how or why God would talk to you—and if you would obey. I know one thing: Jonah’s not a platitude to mount on a cross-stitch and hang in the bathroom. It’s raw, real life. It’s one of the many things I love about God--the way He enters our disheveled reality. The way He knows our crazy souls. And the way He shows us His soul for us, and for all his creation.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>If you can relate, take heart, and take another look at Jonah. You might just find a friend.</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Nicole Unice is a counselor and blogger working in family ministry at Hope Church in Richmond, VA. Her six-week guided study of <a href="http://www.thestubbornservant.com/the-divine-pursuit/">Jonah, The Divine Pursuit</a>, is available as a printed version on her website. An online community using The Divine Pursuit begins 9/15.</b></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_El5Z_gHsAR7eRqiVQSB4KPFwRydiUt0CMQw2lduzNdy4A3oNC8hqpQJzC6InA28glzUR7RikJz_yuRLNFpgBjNVthFhL6B7YvSDzwSWf6qah6zPSzSnyvbJElZknDj-2VLh2cEAFc5x/s1600/nic+web.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510066586673183378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir_El5Z_gHsAR7eRqiVQSB4KPFwRydiUt0CMQw2lduzNdy4A3oNC8hqpQJzC6InA28glzUR7RikJz_yuRLNFpgBjNVthFhL6B7YvSDzwSWf6qah6zPSzSnyvbJElZknDj-2VLh2cEAFc5x/s320/nic+web.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 214px;" /></a><br />
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</a></div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-40577096241154781742010-08-25T06:26:00.000-04:002010-08-25T06:26:13.722-04:00My new digitsI got a new phone number a few weeks ago. Finally I am committing to Virginia as my home and said good bye to my 404 friend. We had a good run, that number and me. We were never as close as that amazing college number. Seriously, you won't believe what is was, but I will give you a few hints. <br />
I had a number that was the same 6 numbers plus one other number. As in, ###-##&#. <br />
I often think I was invited to do fun stuff only because my friends remembered my digits. <br />
Who should we call?<br />
Well, there's always Anne, because I DO remember her number.<br />
<br />
The reason I am sharing this bit of information is to tell you how surprised I am at the short break my Atlanta cell phone number took. Someone has already been assigned my exact number. And would you believe that his name is Daniel. What are the chances? Poor guy. I wonder if he has gotten any interesting calls from long lost friends who are very confused at the time line of my child's birth when they hear a manly voice on the message saying, "you've reached Daniel. leave a message" No, folks. My child does not have a phone and I will keep it that way until sport's practices and driving require the safety of a cell phone.<br />
He's not even in Kindergarten yet, so we have some time.<br />
(wiping tear away as I think about my baby growing up)<br />
<br />
At least this Daniel fellow won't get calls from bill collectors like we did with our VA home number. After about 50 of those, I was tempted to start asking random women if they were named Erin Blevens, and if so, would you please go pay your bill. Debt free is a good life goal, Erin. Don't let your slip-up be our dinnertime interruption. <br />
<br />
And friends, if you happen to chat with this new Daniel, please be kind!<br />
We chatted a few days ago and he seems like a nice guy.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-67749627485630486402010-08-14T07:51:00.002-04:002010-08-14T20:45:51.507-04:00updated with evidence: Covered, Diced, and CappedDanny asked for me to make breakfast for dinner the other day. I decided I could do better than breakfast at our house. Time for the boys to try lunch at the waffle house!<br />
We had my favorite cheese eggs with grits(and raisin toast, of course) plus a waffle and an order of hash browns. Danny was pretty impressed at how fast our food came out. And they both were wishing I had ordered more food than that. Both boys seemed surprised that their mommy had once worked at this kind of restaurant.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ddngvXq0YqiUkwRPPaOx65NKlWEy8D7Frv2dUi1PajUkqvbC1L0VpsCgjXpI5k5uTPJ2ptBEs5aOGsGhAROKcXgOp6gwgruxDfS6sMPblNbzZPns_ObhTeXEv91GnfqCYkUv9F4NvZbp/s1600/Anne+Working+at+Waffle+House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ddngvXq0YqiUkwRPPaOx65NKlWEy8D7Frv2dUi1PajUkqvbC1L0VpsCgjXpI5k5uTPJ2ptBEs5aOGsGhAROKcXgOp6gwgruxDfS6sMPblNbzZPns_ObhTeXEv91GnfqCYkUv9F4NvZbp/s320/Anne+Working+at+Waffle+House.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>(Here's a photo if you didn't believe me! My summer trip with Campus Outreach. I have some stories to tell.)<br />
The best part was when I stuck a quarter in the jukebox and found a Hank Williams Jr song called Family Traditions. Our waitress started humming the tune and Danny yelled out for the whole store to hear "Mommy, we love this song!"<br />
Maybe I need to think more about my music choices in the car?<br />
nah...he has good tastes.<br />
And he fits right in at the waffle house!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9BF2TIvwAkUodIy7-H1ltT96fXaw8JylMrMUW7ih-qr6cf0hP_kqF_dMc02fl3fGU7ptWsx89_xkqgj_QNxrF0NnY6FufVoARELJu_ktfj3aWg53-4PcIBg8URj4MB97WNipTbO7xG0D/s1600/155046_jukebox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9BF2TIvwAkUodIy7-H1ltT96fXaw8JylMrMUW7ih-qr6cf0hP_kqF_dMc02fl3fGU7ptWsx89_xkqgj_QNxrF0NnY6FufVoARELJu_ktfj3aWg53-4PcIBg8URj4MB97WNipTbO7xG0D/s1600/155046_jukebox.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ddngvXq0YqiUkwRPPaOx65NKlWEy8D7Frv2dUi1PajUkqvbC1L0VpsCgjXpI5k5uTPJ2ptBEs5aOGsGhAROKcXgOp6gwgruxDfS6sMPblNbzZPns_ObhTeXEv91GnfqCYkUv9F4NvZbp/s1600/Anne+Working+at+Waffle+House.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
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</a></div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-8359954439726119352010-08-04T07:17:00.000-04:002010-08-04T07:17:11.153-04:00Like nana, like grandsonEven though I was the photographer for both incidents, we didn't discover this until we got home. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdNt4XuQH-Mczluzz4N8wG8wick5JhUEIEFySG6vjkpQHfOakB3qdHOqRgxVeFvYINSr0RlvCuDuyMdVz4kvku8oWlOeaw9niJsONTRiwH-i0njJC695loK1gLVXk1Ky_rHeEcFQ2WCPY/s1600/IMG_4361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHdNt4XuQH-Mczluzz4N8wG8wick5JhUEIEFySG6vjkpQHfOakB3qdHOqRgxVeFvYINSr0RlvCuDuyMdVz4kvku8oWlOeaw9niJsONTRiwH-i0njJC695loK1gLVXk1Ky_rHeEcFQ2WCPY/s320/IMG_4361.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4L81l3qceU8gKWaS9gVPH4dQSZS4HXt8MkHUxzgYJtCF0g0jCfT4Pk6ZgykTsObglCVO3avc-ea8ct8Wtqp1-yyurVROyVS1tvkJCIt-aAIgDv0fjw1WVm2SE8AJpPIlKlUwKNgPMAkZQ/s1600/IMG_4429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4L81l3qceU8gKWaS9gVPH4dQSZS4HXt8MkHUxzgYJtCF0g0jCfT4Pk6ZgykTsObglCVO3avc-ea8ct8Wtqp1-yyurVROyVS1tvkJCIt-aAIgDv0fjw1WVm2SE8AJpPIlKlUwKNgPMAkZQ/s320/IMG_4429.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Apparently, both Danny and his Nana have a thing for sticking their heads into the lion's mouth. Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-40019320159938457132010-08-02T22:15:00.000-04:002010-08-02T22:15:04.025-04:00Great party, Danny, thanks for turning 4!More to come later on the birthday party, but first up is a photo of Danny's birthday cake. Thanks to our sweet friend Marci and the help of her cake assistant family we had an awesome awesome cake. <br />
Might be the best kid birthday party cake ever. <br />
And that is not an exaggeration.<br />
Danny's putt-putt party was made even more special by the fully interactive cake. Seriously....it had a hole where you could drop the ball in and it would come out at the bottom. Bet you haven't seen that lately?<br />
And most of all, it is special when someone who you love has a big part in your special day. It is just like our wedding cake done by Scott's childhood "second" mom Gail. When a cake is more than just a food at the party, but also a labor of love and a huge centerpiece for your special day....well, that just makes it complete. <br />
<br />
Not trying to compare wedding cake to 4 year old birthday cake, but both tasted delicious and were made by special friends. <br />
Here is a photo(even better in person!) <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOutQyP9616_Gxv1gmbuW3cYDZO4DKv8YznvmPBga6nDymds6T_mRJyEEf5OxY2VHiGg8zXtGEMo0qAOYWoYd9Tvxp4KCqlW3pyRpfa0mxUq-r8qvMpe9qtWxobOnx4RKL_XwZu6MXz8M/s1600/IMG_4355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOutQyP9616_Gxv1gmbuW3cYDZO4DKv8YznvmPBga6nDymds6T_mRJyEEf5OxY2VHiGg8zXtGEMo0qAOYWoYd9Tvxp4KCqlW3pyRpfa0mxUq-r8qvMpe9qtWxobOnx4RKL_XwZu6MXz8M/s320/IMG_4355.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
I mean, really, have you ever seen anything like it?Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-11103507233727505992010-07-29T14:48:00.002-04:002010-07-29T20:41:59.253-04:00Why is my kid smarter than me?We have a new Kroger down the street from us. It's shiny and new and full of free goodies today for the grand opening. They gave us cake and a cart for my boys to push around the store. It was a wonderful experience.<br />
Until the end.<br />
When they broke our van.<br />
<br />
You see, we have this new-to-us van that has changed my life. Automatic doors and endless space. I love it.<br />
<br />
They didn't mean to break it. I guess I should have told the kind gentleman and lady carrying out my ton of groceries that I WILL CLOSE THE TRUNK. No, you do not need slam all your body weight on my trunk door in an effort to close it for me. There is a button for that. I got it.<br />
<br />
I also have got the bill coming my way.<br />
Rumor has it that it will cost us about $400+ to fix it broken doors that will not stay down. Now, ironically, I have to slam all my body weight against it to keep it down.<br />
<br />
I went back to the store with a sleeping child in my arms and another sleepy child carrying a bowl of cherries. I explained my situation to a manager.<br />
Apparently, she thinks it is my fault for not telling the bag carrier.<br />
Seriously? My fault?<br />
<br />
Through my tears I tried to explain to Danny that we are not going to be shopping there again. It is too painful to shop there and remember this. All I wanted was a little sympathy. I get that you can't be liable for it and you can't pay for it. I guess that makes sense.<br />
But then my little man starts to get sad about the thought of not going to this shiny new store again.<br />
What about those kid size carts? What about the cake mommy?<br />
<br />
Then he says something profound.<br />
"Mommy, we need to get someone to apologize to you, so that you can say 'it's ok!'"<br />
<br />
Son, mommy isn't ready to say that yet. I am still grieving the pain to our budget as we have to pay to fix something SOMEONE ELSE broke.<br />
I need to forgive.<br />
At least that's what Danny thinks.<br />
And he is right.<br />
<br />
<br />
update: as of 8pm this evening, the van is fixed. thank you to all who prayed. And the best part.....it was free. Scott just reset all the locks and it started working again!Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-908221335675610712010-07-25T15:47:00.001-04:002010-07-25T15:48:06.319-04:00Your biggest fan........can be your child.<br /><br />I am sure there will be a time in our kid's lives when we no longer fill the top spot in their world, but for now we are as cool as a polar bear toenails.<br /><br />Isn't that the way it's supposed to be? Why do we look at sports icons, actors, celebrities that are famous for who-knows-what as the people we follow? Those aren't really my heroes. My heroes are the moms that I spend time with who show me how to be a better one and juggle all their other life desires. My heroes are the dads that work hard to support their families while living up to all the expectations of a great dad. I want to start a fan club for the person who does the same things everyday as me and who loves the Lord in the process. In other words show me someone who is living my kind of life well, so that I can follow them. I want to be president of their fan club.<br /><br />It is right that we are our kid's heroes. We are the people they look up too. My biggest prayer is that I can always be someone they can trust, someone they can follow, someone that they think is thebomb.com.<br /><br />I made hash browns for breakfast this weekend and Danny exclaimed upon eating the first bite that I make the best hash browns in the world. They were pretty tasty. Yeah, kid, I am that cool.<br /><br />But the best example I have seen lately of a "parent fan club" was at a friend's house for a recent cookout and play time. The boys were playing together inside when our friend decided it was time to take the meat out to the grill. One of his boys turned to our son and exclaimed "HEY, want to go outside and watch my dad grill. He is the best griller EVER!"<br /><br />Do you have a fan club for your everyday activities? Who are your heroes?Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-35335421778375253372010-07-20T08:52:00.000-04:002010-07-20T08:52:03.283-04:00Something new in our life....I really like doing titles that will make some of my readers think we are announcing a little bundle of joy. <br />
It cracks me up how my generation goes there so quickly. While we would love to have another rascal, now is definitely not the time. <br />
An example of how quickly we go there? <br />
So, at church this week I talked to more people than average due to the fact that my new part time job was announced in both services. I got to stand up front while our pastor said some kind words about myself and the sweet friend sharing this job with me. We are thrilled to be starting our jobs as children's ministry coordinators. My friend will handle the Sunday morning routine and all that happens in our terrific 2nd- 5th grade program. My part is more about communication and furthering of the "family ministry" perspective. It is all about equipping parents to reach their children with the truth and for them to know how much God loves them. I am so excited to take on this new role as Coordinator of Family Ministry and I was really touched with the encouragement I received from people after they heard the news.<br />
I was standing with a friend when another lady come up and said congratulations to me. She turned and said "For what?" I knew she already knew about the job, so this was old news for her and it didn't click right away what we were talking about. After I responded with something about my new role, she said "Oh, I thought maybe you were expecting or something."<br />
Seriously, why do we always go there?<br />
I know that having a child would be the most wonderful news and worthy of many many congrats, but why do we always think that first?<br />
Is it because we have had two kids so close together in age that it seems like we are due for another? <br />
Yes, we know how they get there and yes, we are attempting to keep from another one coming so close to the first two. We need a little break. A break from diapers and sippee cups and car seats with 3 things to click and bottom wiping and cutting up food so tiny that you wonder what it was originally. We need to introduce school and booster seats and buckling yourself in the seat and being able to swim without floaties.<br />
<br />
We love being parents and we are pretty content with two. For now.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-77423243377255988152010-07-16T19:37:00.000-04:002010-07-16T19:37:27.473-04:00conversations with a former me...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">Have you ever thought about having a conversation with yourself in another time?<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">Here’s my question.<span> </span>Am I going to look back at my “now” self and say “that girl knew nothing?”<span> </span>Sometimes I look back at myself 5, 10, 15 years ago and I think about what I didn’t know, what I still had to learn about life.<span> </span>I am thankful for growth and change and all the things that go with maturity.<span> </span>I know that we are supposed to be ever changing in our choices and that life presents different challenges at each age.<span> </span>I didn’t have kids 4 years ago, I didn’t have a husband 8 years ago, and I was still in high school a mere 12 years ago.<span> </span>All those life steps have taken me in new directions.<span> </span>And these new directions have brought tremendous growth.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">But what about so many things that I used to think about life?<span> </span><span class="GramE">Silly stuff.</span><span> </span>And the things I believed about truth and who God is? Seriously, I was often full of judgment and ignorance.<span> </span>Oh, and there is that little thing about thinking the rest of the world never felt depressed, doubtful, and without hope the same as me.<span> </span>That was ridiculous.<span> </span>What a turning point in faith when I realized that the rest of you get insecure.<span> </span>You doubt your faith.<span> </span>You sometimes wonder what life is all about.<span> </span>And through it, God is faithful and He is unchanging.<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">This thought process leads me to wonder about looking back 10 years from now.<span> </span>Will I continue to change as much?<span> </span>Will I look at myself, the “now” me, but in 10 years and wonder “what was up with her?”<span> </span>Did she seriously tell people that?<span> </span>Did she really think that was the way it works?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">Ok, this is the point where my husband says that I think too much.<span> </span>I often wonder about weird things like this so much that the only way to get it out of my head is to write it down, talk about it, chew on it for days.<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">Does this mean I am crazy?<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;"><span class="GramE">Of course.</span><span> </span>Was there any doubt?<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">That is another thing, like God's faithfulness, that hasn’t changed in the past 30 years.<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in;">At least there are some things we can hold true and consistent.</div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-47178929127135924382010-07-14T07:48:00.000-04:002010-07-14T07:48:29.419-04:00I'm not boredA quick reminder to head over an read my guest post from yesterday on <a href="http://www.thestubbornservant.com/">thestubbornservant</a> blog. Looks like a comment on one of the mothering posts from the week might bring you a chance to win a book? I never pass up a chance for free stuff!<br />
<br />
So, we are in the car yesterday and Danny is telling me about all the drivers and passengers he sees in the cars around us. He is a big fan of the word passenger and likes to use it on any occasion possible. He was telling me that the man he saw must be going to pick up his kids from soccer practice or art camp or something so that he could have a passenger. I told him that it was possible, but it also could be true that this man was not a daddy.<br />
It's a shocker, I know.<br />
Not all men are daddies.<br />
Then Danny proceeds to tell me that "They must be bored."<br />
That's about right, kid. <br />
Before you, my life was boring sometimes.<br />
Now? Not boring.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjRMEufIF65dH90yQFZwGVpLfXuk4doeoeaxeE2eZNyhsRL33HcgUhq5L3g3I6-TDgMLCMb0a2yNUMyMzeHUU60cprraLnTetDeSI1M9mUq2-A-OGw5qqiZZPdMFEdLduNPvvWCPueKgq/s1600/IMG_3032edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigjRMEufIF65dH90yQFZwGVpLfXuk4doeoeaxeE2eZNyhsRL33HcgUhq5L3g3I6-TDgMLCMb0a2yNUMyMzeHUU60cprraLnTetDeSI1M9mUq2-A-OGw5qqiZZPdMFEdLduNPvvWCPueKgq/s320/IMG_3032edit.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is a "not boring" moment inspecting a frog in our yard. </div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-34589852422308028462010-07-13T07:09:00.000-04:002010-07-13T07:09:28.458-04:00I have a friend you should know.......named Nicole Unice. She is the director of women's ministry at my church, a published author, counselor, leader and friend to many, a mommy to three adorable children, and definitely a model to me on how to balance a career and a family with great skill. She has a terrific blog <a href="http://www.thestubbornservant.com/">http://www.thestubbornservant.com/</a> where she tackles some deep issues and also presents some really great questions about what it means to be a believer. You know when it is refreshing to meet people who seem to really understand that being a Christian doesn't mean having all the answers and living a model life. I want to be the kind of person that is honest about the struggles and issues I wrestle with daily. And through my friendship with Nicole, I am learning more about what that means. <br />
SOOOO, when she asked me to be a guest blogger this summer for a series she was doing,<br />
I was thrilled.<br />
I was seriously flattered.<br />
And since she had visited my site before, I realized that maybe I have more than one reader for this gaskillrascal blog(thanks mom for being faithful!) <br />
<br />
I would love it if you would head over and read what <a href="http://www.thestubbornservant.com/2010/07/13/guest-post-photographer-anne-gaskill-on-mothering/">I wrote</a>. Maybe even comment?<br />
And then add thestubbornservant to your list of daily reads.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-71499662817884384472010-07-12T13:13:00.001-04:002010-07-12T13:14:32.057-04:00His favorite songRecently, a friend of mine posted a video of her little girl singing Take Me Out to the Ball Game.<br /><br />Since that is Danny's favorite song, we had to share our rendition. I have had to sing this as our bed time song many times. I am guessing we have a future love of sports in the works for our boys.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pzYIZzqV7Jo&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pzYIZzqV7Jo&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />He is such a cutie!Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-88375175646987487322010-07-11T14:55:00.001-04:002010-07-11T14:55:59.294-04:00Please let me out.I need to get out of here. I NEED a slushy.<br /><br />Today is 7-11, so all 7-11 stores are offering free slushies.<br /> In my best Homer Simpson voice: mmmmmm. slussshhhhiess. freeeee.<br /><br />The boys and I dressed up as cows for free food this week. I love free stuff.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHlMSRtQkLZXUkMaC5GrSGg_yk0CihGHTpL386fluCtaYnro_hkWXHsCAJqKIkT-GX9saSFCYxOuEJNeB-aL31S6c_SDaWbdFoSAYV5WWSSGunPViOBiHizqBChBrMhDQoysLhTsZ49Xx/s1600/IMG_1007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHlMSRtQkLZXUkMaC5GrSGg_yk0CihGHTpL386fluCtaYnro_hkWXHsCAJqKIkT-GX9saSFCYxOuEJNeB-aL31S6c_SDaWbdFoSAYV5WWSSGunPViOBiHizqBChBrMhDQoysLhTsZ49Xx/s320/IMG_1007.JPG" width="213" border="0" height="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RpW-vxrUQqDPBC7C0KdHDnqaYwVdbRBRnKGknkeecwWaownyQluZ8d7xL5k-WiwqyU8sn3KpQeHnaD83pJKfHiTeQXmaK19LnWf_-EU9JAts34RlIujlEaBhrieHt0EWvXJ90-9cOu2O/s1600/IMG_1006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6RpW-vxrUQqDPBC7C0KdHDnqaYwVdbRBRnKGknkeecwWaownyQluZ8d7xL5k-WiwqyU8sn3KpQeHnaD83pJKfHiTeQXmaK19LnWf_-EU9JAts34RlIujlEaBhrieHt0EWvXJ90-9cOu2O/s320/IMG_1006.JPG" width="213" border="0" height="320" /></a></div>So does Sam(<a href="http://gaskillrascals.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-new-brother.html">my brother, the dog</a>). Here he is grabbing a few "free" licks of Joshie's ice cream drips. That dog knows where it's at....that kid can make a mess. And he is happy to share with the dogs. He might even think he is one, the way he plays with our sweet Pollack. I am certain I will have to clear that up at a later time. No Josh, we do not lick water out of a doggie bowl. Humans use cups.<br />And we get to drink slushies from 7-11.<br />Maybe I should take them with me and introduce them to this terrific tasty treat?<br /><br />Go get yours before this day ends.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-90486788638674275832010-07-09T15:14:00.002-04:002010-07-09T20:50:39.014-04:00Missing Mr. Gaskill Rascal?I really want that hubby of mine to start blog on here again. <br />
<a href="http://gaskillrascals.blogspot.com/2009/07/monday-musings-independence-day.html">Here</a> and <a href="http://gaskillrascals.blogspot.com/2008/12/guest-post-2008-year-in-review.html">here</a> are some examples of his funny posts. And you can't forget his one about <a href="http://gaskillrascals.blogspot.com/2009/06/monday-musings-literally.html">literally</a>. It might "literally" make you fall off your seat in laughter.<br />
If you think Mr. Gaskill Rascal is funny and would like to see him post again, please leave a message for him in the comments.<br />
<br />
Thanks for your help!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnn9XW-rX2S3FLIuTMNFzwRmd3WHKs_Jmq_fCznrgVU1n8_LPpK3Vi80aEBDyAD5JiyBhQgVA0FwAQ0RBcFT7vjzJRnM6dCpCpWb37_me2n4d5670xNsVSbQqiRXNkDb0KbKkbZLfEm7yJ/s1600/IMG_4168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnn9XW-rX2S3FLIuTMNFzwRmd3WHKs_Jmq_fCznrgVU1n8_LPpK3Vi80aEBDyAD5JiyBhQgVA0FwAQ0RBcFT7vjzJRnM6dCpCpWb37_me2n4d5670xNsVSbQqiRXNkDb0KbKkbZLfEm7yJ/s320/IMG_4168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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This picture is clearly unrelated, but I think 5 sleepy children in a bed watching movies is totally cute.Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-78292982093010999202010-07-08T07:16:00.001-04:002010-07-08T07:17:09.385-04:00I can't believe what just happened<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of the world may not be as impressed as I am, but something amazing just happened. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thanks to my sister-in-law's great idea, my oldest son .....dressed....himself....this morning. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like all his clothes on with out even coming in my room. I seriously just slept for a few more minutes past normal wake up time, while he put on his clothes for the day and went to the potty. All by himself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ok, so here is the great idea. For 9.99 at BB& B, I found the under the bed shoe storage things that you see on TV. It has 12 spots, which is perfect for each day of the week minus Sunday, because I get to pick church clothes. I filled one side with Danny's clothes and the other side with Joshie's clothes for the rest of the week. This morning Danny slid out the container from under his bed and pulled out his outfit. I heard Josh calling for me, so I went into their room and was shocked to find him all ready for the day. Since this was the first time, he accidentally picked from the wrong side, but who cares. We switched shirts, but my "solid" 2 year old can easily wear Danny's shorts, so all was well. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am so proud of my D-man!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Check out these two little stinkers in one of the fish tanks at the GA Aquarium. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfplF1HfSrQWvBjW0HX8uNgLdjttidMja3URrJdGIFARYhG8eQpqT1HGfs7Qs8U9k8gOsAgTSlcRji5SgFIO8PE-OewvJXrBd0qWxrxuRnGwE7lT1ZVa_StoFYlzK8em-zN8kwJpOIgYho/s1600/IMG_4122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfplF1HfSrQWvBjW0HX8uNgLdjttidMja3URrJdGIFARYhG8eQpqT1HGfs7Qs8U9k8gOsAgTSlcRji5SgFIO8PE-OewvJXrBd0qWxrxuRnGwE7lT1ZVa_StoFYlzK8em-zN8kwJpOIgYho/s320/IMG_4122.JPG" width="213" border="0" height="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-88260143134940394842010-07-07T13:41:00.000-04:002010-07-07T13:41:45.502-04:00Our latest summer plans........include laying in bed until 8am(that's late here), riding bikes to the pool, then lunch poolside, home for quick nap, and back to the pool until Daddy calls us asking why we are not home. We have gone from 2 weeks ago crying when we went in the big pool and strangling our mommy out fear of being let go....to now we BEG to go in the big pool and we get angry when mommy grabs us by our float ring. <br />
I like this way much better. <br />
Except I am not a fan of the screaming that happens every time we leave. <br />
They are turning into little fish!<br />
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Photos from our trip to come soon....Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-10305604466522324342010-07-01T09:30:00.000-04:002010-07-01T09:30:03.425-04:00This is children at their best.sleeping. <br />
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seriously, parents and teachers and all people who have or work with children. <br />
<br />
you know it's true.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHbMvRAgeSrgfUo36u_SRTKidUcjmVIPie2_JoXLUkTvmXndGGt4TFLYlOo9ruPJhIy52xvZU1Jps9V6OmTpwIrvl1Goxue_VqWitiDmuJpaUWcA7PT3f66LKwF2eCcnRK-ftpgWDHmOA/s1600/IMG_3903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHbMvRAgeSrgfUo36u_SRTKidUcjmVIPie2_JoXLUkTvmXndGGt4TFLYlOo9ruPJhIy52xvZU1Jps9V6OmTpwIrvl1Goxue_VqWitiDmuJpaUWcA7PT3f66LKwF2eCcnRK-ftpgWDHmOA/s320/IMG_3903.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CDA1ddmbiKQbbHZ5wkdZXm69ObNpNKMzAtcYhHeM8OjtTvTaDx7n4akORaJWRSUAdWMgDMhf6w5Rf2dRgixPHd-LEm52fzyXH-FWtFwMdPboPpThnNQVXxWx0htinHdAC2CoM1LL0fS1/s1600/IMG_3905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7CDA1ddmbiKQbbHZ5wkdZXm69ObNpNKMzAtcYhHeM8OjtTvTaDx7n4akORaJWRSUAdWMgDMhf6w5Rf2dRgixPHd-LEm52fzyXH-FWtFwMdPboPpThnNQVXxWx0htinHdAC2CoM1LL0fS1/s320/IMG_3905.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5461228922730205365.post-6454518526184103832010-06-26T21:02:00.000-04:002010-06-26T21:02:55.153-04:00We are so blessed........to have grandparents located close enough and willing/able enough to take our two kiddos for ...are you ready for this?....ONE WHOLE WEEK! I had backyard bible camp and a job interview and it was nice to just spend time doing projects and being quiet in our home. Seriously, just quiet. Want to hop in the car and run to the store for something? well, ok. Want to go see a movie? let's do it. Why were we not more thankful for this when we had zero kids in our home? <br />
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Main Point: Our grandparents rock!<br />
<br />
Please don't resent us if you do not have this favorable situation. We will pray for some adopted grandparents to land on your doorstep tonight.<br />
<br />
Here is a picture of the boys at bible camp with their grandpa. er, uh .... I mean Wrangler Rob and his two pals, Cowboy Dan and Cowboy Josh.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiR5KJiyEr-K51eoR1QpLXsCqMdSkDp5HlYC9_GQ2JP_zwY0gBzyzdSoaScb9WTX1TjcizWU4ZJ3vPDBjYtgiziCWxl3CN78ocCeu6GJqjuxrOUrEbiwm8ZgTU2WrTiQ0T4FaNS0kNIxN/s1600/DSCN3305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiR5KJiyEr-K51eoR1QpLXsCqMdSkDp5HlYC9_GQ2JP_zwY0gBzyzdSoaScb9WTX1TjcizWU4ZJ3vPDBjYtgiziCWxl3CN78ocCeu6GJqjuxrOUrEbiwm8ZgTU2WrTiQ0T4FaNS0kNIxN/s320/DSCN3305.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Mrs. Gaskill Rascalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08217234936925732377noreply@blogger.com1