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  1. One of my favorite books when my children were little.
  2. Do you know we've been online for 20 years now? We're in the process of upgrading the site to a modern forum & hosting. As we're upgrading the site, you'll see new features & ease of use for our ChristianMom's out there. Make sure to follow us on social media (Facebook, Twitter), as we'll also be upgrading those channels also... Stay tuned!
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  5. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0802403476?ie=UTF8&tag=christianmomcom&linkCode=xm2&camp=1789&creativeASIN=0802403476
  6. Moments for Mom September 2010 In five years, I will help my daughter pick things out at Target and Bed, Bath & Beyond, and we will pack up her room and pack up her car (assuming she has a car in five years), and we will drive her to college. Five years. Five years ago, she was 9. Five years ago, I was 35. Five years ago, she was going into third grade. Five years ago, I was working part-time, up to my ears in church work. Five years ago seems about five minutes ago. Five years. Five years will go like that {snap}. So all I have is right now. I have the moments when she asks me for braids when it’s an hour after I thought she went to bed, and we end up giggling or praying. I have the moments when we’re in the car alone and I ask, ‘how are you doing, baby?’ and she actually answers me without an eye-roll. I have the moments when she stands next to me in front of a mirror, about one inch from passing me by in the height department, and I realize that I’m looking at myself at thirteen and it terrifies me. I have the moments when I look at her, really look at her, and want to tell her everything that I’ve ever done wrong in the false hope that she can narrowly escape all future mistakes simply by listening to all of mine. I don’t have any more yesterdays. The past almost-fourteen years are behind us. And I don’t have five more years. Not really. We are given one simple, full, beautiful, hard day at a time to live through. So I’ve got today. I’ve got little moments. And there’s so much I want to soak in, to pour out, to pray for. One little moment at a time. Copyright Elisabeth K. Corcoran, 2010 Elisabeth is the author of He Is Just That Into You: Stories of a Faithful God who Pursues, Engages, and Has No Fear of Commitment (WinePress), In Search of Calm: Renewal for a Mother’s Heart (Xulon), and Calm in My Chaos: Encouragement for a Mom’s Weary Soul (Kregel). All of her books can be purchased on Amazon or through her website at http://www.elisabethcorcoran.com. Check out her book trailer for He Is Just That Into You at http://www.vimeo.com/7093233. Visit her blog at http://elisabethcorcoran.blogspot.com/. You can follow her on Twitter at ekcorcoran or friend her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/people/Elisabeth-Klein-Corcoran/1301703500. Watch Elisabeth and her friends spread hope through Africa with Samaritan’s Purse at http://www.vimeo.com/7919582. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- http://www.elisabethcorcoran.com http://elisabethcorcoran.blogspot.com/ He Is Just That Into You: http://www.vimeo.com/7093233 Spreading hope through Africa:
  7. MARATHON MOM Homebodies By Cheryl Gochnauer Cheryl@homebodies.org Copyright 2000 (The following is an excerpt from Cheryl’s latest book, “Stay-at-Home Handbook: Advice on Parenting, Finances, Career, Surviving Each Day & Much More”, InterVarsity Press 2002.) As I write this handbook, my daughters, at ages 8 and 12, are neither toddlers nor teens. I like to tell people that I’m in the relatively easy years, and it’s true. But don’t think I’ve forgotten what it was like when they were younger! For those who are still tackling 2-foot-tall tornadoes, I say, “Hold on, Marathon Mom. It gets better, I promise!” ******** When my husband, Terry, proposed, he didn’t use the classic “Will you marry me?” line. Instead, he asked me to be the mother of his children. Misty-eyed, I agreed. I didn’t realize I had just signed up for the race of my life. Now don’t misunderstand me. I would do anything for our 2 jaunty little redheads. But I’m learning motherhood has a lot more to do with running shoes than baby booties. The glorious days of hitting the snooze button are over. Each morning, the alarm beside my bed fires off like a pistol shot. My naïve images of Madonna and Child left in the dust, I’m off on a fast track unlike any I experienced in the working world. Relatives and friends cheer from the sidelines, shouting their favorite child rearing pointers and admonitions. There are no set rules for this tough course, however. I’m going to have to figure it out as I go, as the road ahead veers with twists and turns to challenge the most determined marathon mom. Flipping on overhead lights and whipping back bedspreads, I tickle little bottoms as my kids grope blindly for their covers. “Time for school! Let’s go!” This morning’s hurdles include dressing my preschooler, Carrie, who is yelling, “I can do it myself!” -- but can’t -- and beating my third-grader’s rumbling bus to the curb. With a hurried hug and a half-zipped coat, Karen is on her way. Her sister perches expectantly at the window, then waves a pudgy hand and oatmealy spoon, splattering the TV, our cat and herself as she belts out, “Bye-Bye! Bounding up the stairs with Carrie in tow, I dash back to their bedroom. On the floor are five or six discarded outfits that didn’t make the first string. Peeling off the soiled garment, I find myself back at the starting line. Howling “I CAN DO…umph!” Carrie’s demand is muffled as I do it myself, pulling a stubborn turtleneck over her carrot top. As the whipping whirlwind continues to swirl, my husband is caught up in the fun, too. Smoothing bedspreads and plopping breakfast dishes in the sink, Terry jogs along beside me for a while, then veers off to his own job. Running in place, I watch him leave, wondering at the ease with which he separates the track at home from the track at work. How do guys do that? Even when I worked full-time, my mommy track plotted a course right through the middle of my office. There is no time to think of that now, though. Gathering speed, I face into the headwind. Snatching various hats on and off throughout the day, I sprint through my various roles: accountant, chauffeur, cook, interior decorator, laundress, maid, physician, secretary and preschool teacher. That is just for today. Tomorrow, the course will change, and so will the hats. By the time Karen bursts in the front door with a backpack of homework and serious case of the munchies, I’m beginning to get winded. But there is still dinner to be prepared. Uh, oh. Mother Hubbard’s cupboard is bare. Ready or not, it is time for that most thrilling of all challenges: grocery shopping with the kids. An hour later, we are back home, with fast food. After streaking down aisles, rescuing teetering boxes and bottles in the wake of my two mini-tornadoes, I decide to let off the pace a bit. The local hamburger joint can do the dishes. “Daddy! Daddy!” Karen and Carrie race to open the door as Terry’s key turns in the lock. Together, we sit at the kitchen table, munching fries as I don my counselor’s hat. Workplace traumas, schoolyard adventures, and household mishaps shared, the course finally begins to wind down. After homework and splashed-to-the-ceiling baths, it is time for songs and books. With a kiss and snuggle-hug, I tuck in each of the girls and flip off the light. As I cross the finish line, the imaginary crowd fades into a peaceful contentment. I haven’t set a new world record or anything like that, but I have run a good race. Maybe I didn’t realize the implications of saying “Yes” to Terry when he asked me to be the mother of his children. But I wouldn’t trade my marathon for anything. Tomorrow, I get to hack out a fresh course. I’m looking forward to seeing what is around that next curve. ***** Cheryl loves to hear from readers. Write her at Cheryl@homebodies.org or visit http://www.homebodies.org, where you can interact with lots of other at-home parents in the active message forums. Also check out your Homebodies Columnists – there are now more than 20 talented writers who will encourage and equip you in your family-focused lifestyle choice! http://www.homebodies.org/columnists.html Books make great Christmas gifts. Your Homebuddies have several titles they'd like to recommend, including Cheryl's own "So You Want to Be a Stay-at-Home Mom" and the “Stay-at-Home Handbook” excerpted above. Check out this link at Homebodies: http://www.gospelcom.net/homebodies/recbooks.html To read a sample chapter of "So You Want to Be a Stay-at-Home Mom," click on this link: http://www.homebodies.org/sample.htm
  8. Moments for Mom a Wife February 2003 I’m going to take you on a little tangent this month, ladies. We’re going to talk about the men in our lives seeing as it is the month of love (according to Hallmark, at least). I don’t know about you – but laughter is hugely important to me. I love to laugh…and my husband, Kevin, in his unique way, makes me laugh harder than anyone else can. (Definitely one of the reasons I married him…) The other day, I told my husband, Kevin, that I wanted him to come up with a nickname for me. Something other than honey or Beth. Something that meant something to both of us. And something that was actually nice. I explained to him that two of our couple friends’ husbands have nicknames for their wives and I thought it was really sweet. He sighed, rolled his eyes, and said, ‘You’re kidding me, right?’ But he started throwing some out nevertheless. ‘Toots?’ Um, no. I’m looking for a tad more personal, please. ‘Slim?’ Why? ‘Because you’re slim.’ That’s sweet…but no. ‘Winnie?’ Winnie?! ‘You say, ‘I win’ a lot.’ No I don’t…so no. ‘Blackie?’ What? ‘You look good in black?’, he said with a bit of a question, his weariness showing, his creativity waning. Again, thank you, but no. ‘Peri?’ Why Peri? ‘Your favorite color is periwinkle.’ No…no it’s not. I actually dislike periwinkle. (By this time, I’m beginning to wane…) Til he tossed out his final offering, and quite confidently I must add, ‘7.’ 7? Are you kidding me? Why? ‘It’s your favorite number.’ No it’s not, I said with a sigh of resignation. ‘Well, what’s your favorite number then?’ 63. ’63?! Whose favorite number is 63?! And who calls anyone 63?!’ No one calls anyone by their favorite number! Sigh. So 7 it is. Just a peek into our goofy life. And there’s only one reason I gave you this glimpse…because I want to encourage you to laugh, to find the idiosyncrasies in your relationship that make it so unique, to remind you that your lives are so intertwined that the bond is unbreakable, to remind you that you have a history and a present and a future together…and to remind you that all of this is a gift from God. Happy Valentine’s Day, ladies! Copyright Elisabeth K. Corcoran, 2003 Elisabeth K. Corcoran is the author of Calm in My Chaos: Encouragement for a Mom’s Weary Soul (2001), which can be purchased directly through her publisher, Kregel Publications at #1-888-644-0500 or http://www.kregel.com, or at amazon.com, chrbook.com or familychristian.com, or through your local Christian bookstore. This column is original and not excerpted from her book.
  9. OPENING YOUR HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS Homebodies, By Cheryl Gochnauer Cheryl@homebodies.org Copyright 2001 TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE VISITORS, and all through the house, the hostess was obsessing, drafting children and spouse. Do you really need to dust the top of the refrigerator? "The more I do, the more I feel I have to do," sighs Sally. "I'm like one of those hamsters on the wheel." Relax. Your home should be comfortable, not spotless. Most people feel less pressured when family's on the way than they do entertaining first-time guests. Either way, people are coming to see you, not conduct a white-glove test. HARK! THE HERALD DOORBELL RINGS. One source which, understandably, wished to remain anonymous, says, "With my family, there's no notice. They just come and run you over." Avoid having to just say "Go" by scheduling the visit's end before guests arrive. Give new visitors a tour. Present simple ground rules positively. If you'd rather guests not smoke inside, provide an alternative. Demonstrate how to operate remotes and microwaves. If they have free access to the refrigerator, tell them. WHAT "CHILD" IS THIS? When guests surprise you with Fido, remain calm. If you don't allow indoor pets, offer your garage, suggest a nearby kennel, or ask that the animal be confined to its carrier. On the flip side, forewarn visitors about your own pets. "I make it known that I have a dog, and the dog lives in the house," says Teresa. "If they can't handle that, they need to find somewhere else to stay." DANCE OF THE SUGAR-FREE PLUM FAIRIES. "My husband, Bob, and I talk with guests ahead of time to see if they have any unusual food preferences or dietary needs," says Charlotte. Sidestep the disappointment of a "no, thanks" response to your seven-course meal by determining crowd-pleasing menus ahead of time. Why slave alone in the kitchen while friends reminisce in the den? Prepare several meals in advance. Make double portions and throw the extra in the freezer. Stock up on foods that won't spoil if everyone decides to eat out - or if guests don't show at all. Make breakfast easy for everyone, whether they be early-risers or sleep-ins, by setting out cereal the night before. SLEEP IN HEAVENLY PEACE. Make guestrooms as dreamy as possible. Test the bed's comfort, imagining yourself as an outsider. Furnish a nightlight, alarm clock, extra blankets and storage space for belongings. Please night owls with a television with an earphone jack, or magazines to browse in the wee hours. Plan for pallets, in case parents want their small children to sleep in their room. IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHAOS: If everybody's enjoying themselves, there's no reason to rush friends and family to the door. But if they're there for several days, you should definitely look to them for help. Don't be shy about inviting guests into the kitchen to help chop vegetables or set the table. Playfully toss them a dishtowel after dinner. If they're getting low on clean clothes, show them how to operate your washer and dryer. Point out extra toilet tissue and cleaning supplies under the guest bathroom sink. OH HOLY NIGHTLIFE. Explore the local holiday sites together. Have a tentative entertainment schedule set before guests arrive so you can coordinate your plans with theirs. Tug-of-wars over checks are avoided, too, by discussing finances in advance. Will you split expenses, or treat each other? Presenting options in a forthright, cordial manner sets everyone at ease. Be sure to carve out some downtime so your guests can spend some time to themselves, too. AWAY IN A MINIVAN. As the visit winds down, do a room-by-room check to make sure no one's forgotten anything. Help take luggage to the car, then gather everyone together for one last photo, surprising children with a small gift to entertain them on their way home. Hugs. Kisses. Waves. Close the door. Reclaim your recliner. Enjoy the silent night. (Comments? Write cheryl@homebodies.org and be sure to visit her website at http://www.homebodies.org where you can read 25 columnists devoted to encouraging at-home parents. All rights reserved, Homebodies.Org, LLC.)

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