tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38489457088305885452024-02-07T22:42:31.515-07:00A M o s s y B l o gKristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.comBlogger961125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-23320238577509470272017-06-11T21:21:00.002-06:002017-06-11T21:21:59.967-06:00Pathfinder Road - The Bridge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span id="goog_544195247"></span><span id="goog_544195248"></span><br />Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-42512954052837624662017-02-18T16:38:00.001-07:002017-02-18T16:38:17.149-07:00Scouts<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-36316342967355325642017-02-18T16:36:00.002-07:002017-02-18T16:36:26.400-07:00Hello, I am a crested penguin. Kemiry had an adorable project for school and she had to prepare a presentation. We as a family had to make a penguin. We chose to make a puppet out of felt. Kemiry learned two stitches, how to sew on a button and a whole slew of penguin facts.<br />
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What a fun project and a bonding experience for us girls. </div>
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-81792730209337758592017-02-18T16:34:00.001-07:002017-02-18T16:34:38.292-07:00Grandma's Funeral<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We had Grandma's funeral last week. It was peaceful. I think she was finally ready to go. There are a lot of people who were very sad. I am not sad that she is done with this life, I am sad that I didn't get to ask her more questions or that I didn't comfort her more in the end, but I am happy that she is done with her test here on earth. </div>
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My parents asked me to make the program for her funeral and give the eulogy. I cried all the way through, but I am happy I was able to do that. I think it gave me a lot of closure. </div>
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<u>Dolly Mae Lund Eulogy </u></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something
that I have learned through this experience of loosing grandma is that we all
grieve differently. Some of us drowned our sorrow with tears others drowned it
in Cake and potatoes. Some of us find solace in the company of loved ones,
while others prefer to be alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some people make themselves and others laugh as they try to find their
zen and others put their shoulder to the wheel and serve away the pain. Although
the definition of grief is ever changing and completely subject to its owners individual
needs and circumstances, I think all grief shares a common theme of loss and
regret. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We
may regret that grandma didn’t get to see the beach or Elvis one last time, we
may be sad that there was not one more touch of the hand or that we didn’t get
something off of our chest. Maybe someone didn’t get to forgive or be forgiven,
it maybe that we didn’t get to hear all the family history stories. We may
regret not being able to see her more often or take just one more picture. My
daughter expressed that she wishes she could have given great grandma just one
more hug. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
don’t mean to discount the grief that we ALL are feeling, however, might I
suggest that those regrets can be buried with her mortal body. We can instead,
remember, memorialize and learn from her life, the good and the bad, and become
better people because of the life she DID live and the associations we DID have
with her. We need to count the number of hugs that we did have not the ones
that we missed. We can remember the stories we did hear and learn from them. We
would be doing those beautiful times and memories that we do have a disservice
if we focus on the things that we did not get a chance to do. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We must take comfort knowing that
through Jesus Christ we can be together again and all regrets will be swept
away in that beautiful reunion. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Something
that has helped me in my grief is to remember. Remember as many details as I
can. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that she had a very strong connection to animals, especially her
puppies that she dearly loved. Her connection with animals including that
rattlesnake that wrapped itself around her daughter’s leg. She had no problem
connecting a shotgun shell with his head. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that she loved beautiful things. She always had a flower garden,
beautiful jewelry and more Avon then any person should ever own. Eve remembers
her mother teaching her the names of all the plants as she taught her
daughters, by example, to create beauty all around you. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that she was stubborn and fiercely independent. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was so kind to pass that gene onto
me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fun fact, her birth name was
Dolly but she was christened Dorothy. Her father hated the name Dorothy. She
later legally changed her name to Dorothy and insisted that her name was not
Dolly. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that she had a sarcastic sense of humor. I didn’t appreciate her
negative witty comments until I was an adult when I realized that she was
actually pretty funny. She passed this gene onto Lori who remembers that she
had an “innocent sense of humor that came along with a laugh to wake and
stimulate any listening ear.”</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that grandma always had dark curly hair. I think when I get older and
I start to go grey I am going to blame her for tricking me into believing that
all old people have brown hair. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
feel like I missed out because I don’t remember her baking, but Jan told me
that she remembers that she was not a very good cook, but boy could she bake.
Coffee cake, chocolate-chocolate chip cake and divinity. Donna remembers the
delicious divinity as she told me, Mom would “let me stir in the egg white and
beat it. Then I got to clean the bowl.” Donna also remembers her porcupine
meatballs, which is not a baked good, so she couldn’t have been that bad in the
kitchen. Eve Remembers that she even baked when the family lived in a cabin
with no stove or oven. Ill let her try to remember how that was done and tell
everyone later, maybe she’ll teach a class. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that there was always a garden with peas and zucchini and tomatoes.
I’m pretty sure that grandma never sowed that garden; it was grandpa’s
garden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I remember the feeling
that he did it for her. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that he loved her. I can see it in my mind, him in his suspenders and
blue sweatshirt, putting his big grandpa arm around her and pulling her in
close. Grandma told me stories, and I am now, as an adult, aware that they did
not have the perfect relationship. I know that grandpa was not always a perfect
man or husband. That is not what I remember though, I remember as a child
knowing that they loved each other. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that she loved music. She told me one time about how much she loved
going to church to sing in the choir and play the organ. Grandpa’s church
didn’t use a piano and the congregation sang accapella, she expressed that this
is how she decided that his was not the true church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The three hymns that are part of today’s program were her
favorite, which tells a lot about her. She loved music because it was her way
of expressing her love for the Savior, Jesus Christ </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I
remember that she had a testimony of Jesus Christ and in learning all we can
about dolly’s mother, she too believed in the savior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a memory that I will hold dear and am forever
grateful for, for the passing down of faith and hope and courage. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
we each deal with our individual grief, and hopefully burry our regrets and
sorrow, may we all find comfort in the knowledge that Dorothy loved her
children and grandchildren and that she is, as aunt Lori put it, “surely part
of the heavenly choir.”</div>
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<br />Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-23983548043203180072017-02-18T16:18:00.001-07:002017-02-18T16:35:52.654-07:00Rainbow hikeOn our hike this weekend we got sprinkled on, but it was worth it to see this awesome rainbow spread across the river.<br />
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I love where we live. It rained here last year 70% more than the national average! That is crazy.<br />
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Without the rain there would be an absence of all the green trees, puffy clouds and of course, rainbows. </div>
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-40368886369935900812017-02-02T16:22:00.000-07:002017-02-18T16:34:26.528-07:00Dolly May Lund<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My grandmother passed away tonight. We weren't terribly close. All my childhood I thought she was grumpy and depressed. I do remember how cute her and my grandpa were and I remember thinking that they were in love. I remember the garden. I remember lots of floral prints and more Avon products than a person could use in a lifetime. She loved animals, I remember that. She played piano and sang and she loved Jesus.<br />
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In more recent years, until we moved away, my grandma and I became closer. I learned that she had an interesting sense of humor and was quite sarcastic. She was grumpy and depressed, but kind of funny. She loved beautiful things (hence the Avon and floral prints) She had a rough life which I learned about as I showed her pictures and asked her questions about her mom.</div>
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Like I said, grandma and I were not super close, but this is still tough and confusing. I will miss her here on this earth and the association that we did have, but I am so happy that she is able to be with Everett and see her mother again. She gets to see her daughter Rosie and her son who have also left the earth. She gets to be with the savior and learn more about the gospel. I love thinking about the reunion and the orientation to paradise on the first day home. She didn't want to die, she gave specific instructions to keep her on life support, but I feel strongly that she got over it while in the hospital and that it was easy to let go and move on. I think she is happy now.<br />
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I told the kids about her passing and they had lots of questions. "Why did she die now?" "How is she in heaven already if her body isn't in the tomb yet?" "Why did they turn off the tank?" (Life support) "why didn't I get to see her one more time?" "How old is she in heaven?" "Was she good or bad on earth?" And many more. Kem cried more then I thought she would. Kroten said he is happy for her. </div>
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These experiences are good for us. We need to feel sorrow and we need to ask Heavenly Father for comfort. My hope is that she is happy and that I can hug her again one day when we are both perfect. </div>
Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-66720995371717865192017-01-11T22:40:00.004-07:002017-01-11T22:43:59.431-07:00Santy<img alt="" id="id_9bb3_7118_c9e7_c2ec" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-b7KAlGVnRQs/WHaNR_Xh4sI/AAAAAAAAmEY/z_3rrCUQ_ME/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
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This year Kemiry was super into Santa. She was so excited to go see him. Anytime we saw Santa she would say, super excitedly, "Santa looked at me" or "Santa waived at me" I hope her magic lasts a few more years. </div>
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Kroten doesn't really believe in Santa, but I think he knows if he officially declares that, then he won't get as good of gifts or Atleast some of the magic will be gone. He goes back and forth on his opinion. The conversation of the reality of Santa always includes a little tooth fairy convo too. </div>
Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-37958380832635946452017-01-11T22:40:00.000-07:002017-01-11T22:40:22.128-07:00Christmas came earlyChristmas came early to our house since we were going to visit family on the actual Christmas. It was very quiet and fun. We all love getting gifts. Who doesn't.<br />
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-71389888833916788632017-01-10T18:32:00.002-07:002017-01-10T18:32:32.348-07:00 FaceI sent jared a text today with this emoticon 😬 refering to the face that Kroten was making as he waited quite impatiently for the bathroom. Kemiry read the text over my shoulder and said with a puzzled tone"he is making this face?" How I caught her making this face is a mystery and I swear I burnt a cheeseburgers worth of calories laughing at the conversation afterwards.<br />
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-36552394080712786722017-01-10T18:31:00.002-07:002017-01-10T18:31:53.388-07:00Happy New YearIt was pretty uneventful and laid back. We had nachos and cider. We all went to bed around 10 pm. We're not partiers, but we're happy together. That's all that matters.<br />
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-42604694003035310422017-01-04T23:09:00.002-07:002017-01-04T23:31:31.140-07:00Sleep walkerKroten is a sleep walker. He is a sleep talker. He is a sleep comedian.<br />
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It took us a long time to figure out that he was not awake for our late night interactions. I started to understand the oddities when he was about 3 or 4 years old. One night he was screaming and crying in bed. He was acting like he was being tortured or murdered. I assumed he had just woke from a bad dream. I tried and tried to console him and nothing worked. A few minutes later, like a light switch, he stopped crying, looked me straight in the eye and said as happy as could be "Hi Mommy. " it was one of the creepiest things ever, something straight out of a horror movie. It was at that point that I realized, he wasn't awake for the crying portion of that interaction and he didn't even remember being upset.<br />
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He is 8 now and still had these episodes or night terrors about twice a month on average. I can tell now by his breathing, his mannerisms and even the gloss in his eyes if he is awake or not.<br />
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A few weeks ago he came out of his room and while squating and standing alternately he said "I don't know where to sit."<br />
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One night he ran from his room to the front door, like he was going to leave. That was scary.<br />
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Occasional he will wake up crying or panting like he just ran a mile. He will sometimes say things like, "help me" or " make it stop" the scary night terrors break my mommy heart. And he doesn't remember anything after or the next day, so he can't even tell us about his crazy adventures.<br />
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Tonight was probably the best one I have seen so far. I was laughing out loud. I heard commotion in his room and his normal heavy, I'm not awake, breathing. When I came into the room, he had no pants on and he was trying to wrap his quilt around his waist. He said, "I need help, I can't get it to stay on." I helped him back in bed and asked him if he wanted pants on, he said "I tried." As I helped him put them on he said "why are those off?" Meaning he had woken up in the process of getting back in bed.<br />
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The doctor advised us to interact with him as little as possible, put him back in bed and let the dream play out. We are not supposed to wake him up and we're not supposed to talk about it the next day. All of those things are super hard, especially when he does funny things or is acting really scared.<br />
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I sure hope he grows out of it. I hope he never goes outside or pees in my kitchen pots. If I am ever murdered in the middle of the night, tell the cops that he wasn't awake.Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-16051185663461815412016-12-11T10:55:00.001-07:002016-12-11T10:56:30.942-07:00hope your christmas is mossy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-82646446023182630542016-12-10T08:58:00.002-07:002016-12-10T08:58:41.391-07:00Tiny dancer<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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Kemiry has been dying to do dance for years. We have done little dance classes here and there. It thisnis her first official dance class with recitals and all. </div>
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Anyone who knows the kemernator (oh, we can't call her that anymore.) knows that she is a little on the... socially inept side (she is shy.) if you remember dance class from two years ago, she would sit with me and cry just during practice. </div>
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But she is a growing beauty. She performed absolutely beautifully. And she had so much expression. She even blew kisses as she was leaving the stage.<br />
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The only slight mishap, and I say slight with a tone of sarcasm, was when she threw up before her final performance. I don't think she was sick or nervous, she had a very fast outfit change and I think it stressed her out to the max. We're going to have to do some exersize she in quick transition. I truely think she had no idea what to expect and it got the best of her.<br />
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I am so incredibly proud of her. She has come a long way in the past few years. She has grown into a beautiful blossoming PRE TEEN!!! Yikes. </div>
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One recital down, probably a mission more to go. Good job beautiful girl. </div>
Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-28736732357974856322016-11-28T20:17:00.001-07:002016-12-10T08:43:49.098-07:00Tree 2017Jared hates getting/having/setting up/everything about a real Christmas tree. <div><br></div><div>But he does it every year, with minimal complaining. And that makes him a good husband. </div><div><br></div><div>I like a certain type of tree. I like Charlie Brown trees that you can see through. I love the tree we go this year. Plus it rained on us. That's a good omen, I think. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLYcGxKAjysqPBT4qH2J3a-nk0HkX2zneVmvlintZK1rkJVIvRzt_zRmo31Vq4Q6Ufi34MF9QfccPkZy6mIh0QIcSS5MeDPW0cu2PjYPYzCrO_szk-0o5Z2GnuX2nLPlXJC2jvX9Fz3Lk/s640/blogger-image-1028647573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcLYcGxKAjysqPBT4qH2J3a-nk0HkX2zneVmvlintZK1rkJVIvRzt_zRmo31Vq4Q6Ufi34MF9QfccPkZy6mIh0QIcSS5MeDPW0cu2PjYPYzCrO_szk-0o5Z2GnuX2nLPlXJC2jvX9Fz3Lk/s640/blogger-image-1028647573.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9rQmImHbfxVLAXf6_iO_5E8G4MF2bUjtXNlDL0MHzoo4vHTbWuyUsx2aBygt3QrL4ULSSPlW4bYMPD8RLqgQYVqTc1PmbVy63o8m6DB6LKjnaGnGToeskHDkjSE7AGlg1QyQk_qSJtXT/s640/blogger-image-764559595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz9rQmImHbfxVLAXf6_iO_5E8G4MF2bUjtXNlDL0MHzoo4vHTbWuyUsx2aBygt3QrL4ULSSPlW4bYMPD8RLqgQYVqTc1PmbVy63o8m6DB6LKjnaGnGToeskHDkjSE7AGlg1QyQk_qSJtXT/s640/blogger-image-764559595.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbstfWU0GUx9AX1VgdYE49bFeA-4txTNINfwRs3U1VsDLOmrsRUMiab8as7-HTW111rmcIGIMiu2e3wiLpRsadCtG-Rwg_Pq5VpyMDkhSiiZBH2l8_Eb2T-xmLynOgM3sspRANvIrTpwSt/s640/blogger-image-1882057905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbstfWU0GUx9AX1VgdYE49bFeA-4txTNINfwRs3U1VsDLOmrsRUMiab8as7-HTW111rmcIGIMiu2e3wiLpRsadCtG-Rwg_Pq5VpyMDkhSiiZBH2l8_Eb2T-xmLynOgM3sspRANvIrTpwSt/s640/blogger-image-1882057905.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVX9wnTnqyUfmTWPpTt1X67qiIUCZihIigkyZE_8d0hmY1NWs-nLGYK9hVJSdKIvYAJTmr35O8hl1daMXxm6aYauzCSsCERVQQ-BuFnu_mpMNp8L8OA3EmgBCiqEc8vrwadKZ49x7WSuzL/s640/blogger-image--520693918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVX9wnTnqyUfmTWPpTt1X67qiIUCZihIigkyZE_8d0hmY1NWs-nLGYK9hVJSdKIvYAJTmr35O8hl1daMXxm6aYauzCSsCERVQQ-BuFnu_mpMNp8L8OA3EmgBCiqEc8vrwadKZ49x7WSuzL/s640/blogger-image--520693918.jpg"></a></div></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-9543864372520372002016-11-28T20:13:00.001-07:002016-11-28T20:16:14.085-07:00Hike<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmI2areRztMuM6x5-yFdkYQNfzfc1CWysYGR96QxRufXpczeKzpCKsNDXE8Ttxt4K0HLMd837chPcsYLTOSQYAfmmY-uKHC4wR9T993F56TKali5FReJD57i31svMIBZ7i1Mjs8HZETdB/s640/blogger-image-2077463216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmI2areRztMuM6x5-yFdkYQNfzfc1CWysYGR96QxRufXpczeKzpCKsNDXE8Ttxt4K0HLMd837chPcsYLTOSQYAfmmY-uKHC4wR9T993F56TKali5FReJD57i31svMIBZ7i1Mjs8HZETdB/s640/blogger-image-2077463216.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Oh I hope this little girl knows how. Eaitiful she is. I love being with her and hope we can be friends forever. She is so curious and smart. She doesn't love hiking. It she stuck it out for her mama who loves a good hike. </div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-76241984024004971102016-11-28T20:12:00.001-07:002016-11-28T20:12:55.940-07:00Stormy<div><br></div>Apparently you can have hurricanes and typhoons on the west coast. <div><br></div><div>We haven't been hit by a tree yet nor blown away, but the storm is just getting started... So they say. </div><div><br></div><div>This is just when the winds were ramping up. And he Power went out almost immediately. </div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-BqEmz7sRN86ewGpavH9bleAamavhivnocjRyvdKWWjF_ZT5uddRrJUuxN-h0feA0ogqlk-hNX5xagJEuC_nru_QBJQ4PbygaoirxoJpP8B3s0YVNyRcnLd9xIhCcX0KKT7ZQejDysbc/s640/blogger-image--844420537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-BqEmz7sRN86ewGpavH9bleAamavhivnocjRyvdKWWjF_ZT5uddRrJUuxN-h0feA0ogqlk-hNX5xagJEuC_nru_QBJQ4PbygaoirxoJpP8B3s0YVNyRcnLd9xIhCcX0KKT7ZQejDysbc/s640/blogger-image--844420537.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0F-7s_wapFuNvHX28aizsjSiDLmem-cfH3ACc9DaFpvhuMTQ2yNiq6_pJ5NEPDAxl8yB-IJiITwzFn4Ljh0a2XYHeAewKwqB8Zls_mYv6hDFlOKCN-l5sv1aafDZ9hxacNE9TozMzV1ym/s640/blogger-image--446724266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0F-7s_wapFuNvHX28aizsjSiDLmem-cfH3ACc9DaFpvhuMTQ2yNiq6_pJ5NEPDAxl8yB-IJiITwzFn4Ljh0a2XYHeAewKwqB8Zls_mYv6hDFlOKCN-l5sv1aafDZ9hxacNE9TozMzV1ym/s640/blogger-image--446724266.jpg"></a></div></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-64424206605713718032016-10-15T08:07:00.001-06:002016-10-15T08:07:36.789-06:00I did it here is proof<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmHCXYoCoZ6sNlDbYT_EIDbEubtqeHM4jHI5DLkzsNCtNP__5uI1gFOxihLLTJr_tnC81MWlydd8WVies9YFxDPQOQkvtyLXPCdjLg4aX9G2yidev3uT6Zuk7tw0uYNAAFiMNekpyzB54u/s640/blogger-image-2010320456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmHCXYoCoZ6sNlDbYT_EIDbEubtqeHM4jHI5DLkzsNCtNP__5uI1gFOxihLLTJr_tnC81MWlydd8WVies9YFxDPQOQkvtyLXPCdjLg4aX9G2yidev3uT6Zuk7tw0uYNAAFiMNekpyzB54u/s640/blogger-image-2010320456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>I am the worst visiting teacher on the planet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Visit teaching is an assignment we are given in our church. We are assigned people to look after, to teach, to visit, to mourn with, to take care of. I have always seen it as an assigned friend and something on my to do list. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I am a terrible visit teacher and it is something I struggle with. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">But this month I did it. Here is proof. It helps that I have an awesome lady to visit and that she is super down to earth... Which is proof that I am bad at visiting because I even have a hard time visiting her. Lol </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwRl-HYbkicbtnIStU5GCtwzaNbxJvKt_ONNzRRAfnwN11i0KbFLK367M-uAaaOqE-q65YPMmoasQnoH7FvpLi2-gr-o-4lx6C0kuKLkfiXGqfEjdSWFQeoSbdOg0CtHVT5UzzzSq5BgkW/s640/blogger-image-1673003355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwRl-HYbkicbtnIStU5GCtwzaNbxJvKt_ONNzRRAfnwN11i0KbFLK367M-uAaaOqE-q65YPMmoasQnoH7FvpLi2-gr-o-4lx6C0kuKLkfiXGqfEjdSWFQeoSbdOg0CtHVT5UzzzSq5BgkW/s640/blogger-image-1673003355.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmHCXYoCoZ6sNlDbYT_EIDbEubtqeHM4jHI5DLkzsNCtNP__5uI1gFOxihLLTJr_tnC81MWlydd8WVies9YFxDPQOQkvtyLXPCdjLg4aX9G2yidev3uT6Zuk7tw0uYNAAFiMNekpyzB54u/s640/blogger-image-2010320456.jpg"></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-7194565796110625532016-10-02T14:35:00.001-06:002016-10-02T14:35:22.875-06:00You were right... The popcicle wanted to do it.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This big girl lost her first tooth today.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXsxmwWc80a7z5cE7vgXGYvIrCNhHDkF5P9g2ocAD1e26ie9k-B6sfWpCGZDoZ28KvPtchFFjAPsOWA7juwvyPXKYm8cHRPNirHCrJBeSD-cVuy2MAjITLijjEDTTD28yoXidGSdC-ZqC/s640/blogger-image-359759255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXsxmwWc80a7z5cE7vgXGYvIrCNhHDkF5P9g2ocAD1e26ie9k-B6sfWpCGZDoZ28KvPtchFFjAPsOWA7juwvyPXKYm8cHRPNirHCrJBeSD-cVuy2MAjITLijjEDTTD28yoXidGSdC-ZqC/s640/blogger-image-359759255.jpg"></a></div>She wiggles it until there was nothing else holding it in and it had to fall out. She miraculously made it through lunch, but the tooth was no match for a popcicle. <div><br></div><div>She is so big. I can't even believe it. </div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-13768226304581036742016-09-17T15:13:00.001-06:002016-09-17T15:13:06.016-06:00Cheese<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsBkD6-OlrSy1GgwanBeXI6xg3A1AonqiL6W53ypOGaH6zfhQJWy4OcVE3mM9UewMFWNYB0N8PFNfVc6Bm-kW137XHPEy_2kRqVbQqLTawZiWayvNhX7IEnX1d-o4UcCk2u-MKofCymvH4/s640/blogger-image--917496531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsBkD6-OlrSy1GgwanBeXI6xg3A1AonqiL6W53ypOGaH6zfhQJWy4OcVE3mM9UewMFWNYB0N8PFNfVc6Bm-kW137XHPEy_2kRqVbQqLTawZiWayvNhX7IEnX1d-o4UcCk2u-MKofCymvH4/s640/blogger-image--917496531.jpg"></a></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-12203110424223153412016-09-17T15:09:00.003-06:002016-09-17T15:09:52.972-06:00Lunch hike<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6wWw18HHcEAzoD1Bkl2I5ZeyLOdfsxT8LQ4CnDnrOiWHjhqrRjaG_JB9ZCh3WJPjMsk1-oN9QlWLt-aS23mAzfJWbd8sVrKz-CluEXHIGnSyuWokQe5QmWT0JG6MkjjuhmuEPqqqUwWS/s640/blogger-image-1039475956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Jared occasionally visits me for lunch and when he does we go for a hike. This is a fairly hard hike and give me a good workout every time. I love Jared and I love living in Oregon!!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6wWw18HHcEAzoD1Bkl2I5ZeyLOdfsxT8LQ4CnDnrOiWHjhqrRjaG_JB9ZCh3WJPjMsk1-oN9QlWLt-aS23mAzfJWbd8sVrKz-CluEXHIGnSyuWokQe5QmWT0JG6MkjjuhmuEPqqqUwWS/s640/blogger-image-1039475956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRK_No11heciqmiiyJIM9kcDUp1deqzB84IGiA1Q-QGzA1Reu53ilhwCGTh6jwMWegRo0zl6cGLrhj9D2O_hGc9RERi-XvuYtvtD3OAKYK6aCeuOhjV8hqNL0Vr8Vur7vw-IJT_VjXk89J/s640/blogger-image--1910972134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRK_No11heciqmiiyJIM9kcDUp1deqzB84IGiA1Q-QGzA1Reu53ilhwCGTh6jwMWegRo0zl6cGLrhj9D2O_hGc9RERi-XvuYtvtD3OAKYK6aCeuOhjV8hqNL0Vr8Vur7vw-IJT_VjXk89J/s640/blogger-image--1910972134.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ6wWw18HHcEAzoD1Bkl2I5ZeyLOdfsxT8LQ4CnDnrOiWHjhqrRjaG_JB9ZCh3WJPjMsk1-oN9QlWLt-aS23mAzfJWbd8sVrKz-CluEXHIGnSyuWokQe5QmWT0JG6MkjjuhmuEPqqqUwWS/s640/blogger-image-1039475956.jpg"></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-56989251837942519002016-09-16T21:42:00.001-06:002016-09-16T21:42:47.589-06:00Day 3 fit free<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUyRjP5AQGldsoIMkQ8CNvdY6k-96KzCCMML-D-ZgJjxJjDhdaLXJ96_umjA6u-ZoJGp13BH14itTlh9o1wdHq61unhszdm5vgEkVwU32qN0WS3qKKfCsAmdlMTBWBjeNqzxDpfqNfNIC/s640/blogger-image-2102582195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUyRjP5AQGldsoIMkQ8CNvdY6k-96KzCCMML-D-ZgJjxJjDhdaLXJ96_umjA6u-ZoJGp13BH14itTlh9o1wdHq61unhszdm5vgEkVwU32qN0WS3qKKfCsAmdlMTBWBjeNqzxDpfqNfNIC/s640/blogger-image-2102582195.jpg"></a></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-44743169542462896972016-09-15T23:48:00.001-06:002016-09-16T21:35:02.898-06:00Growth spurt slash emotional mess<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Kroten has been a butt head the past few weeks. A total butt head. </div>
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I am not sure if it is because he is tired because school started, if he is going through a growth spurt or he hit puberty. Maybe the devil knows he turned 8, because he is acting like a little demon. </div>
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Someone suggested that he might be in a growth spurt. They informed me that you can tell a child is going through a growth spurt if they cannot wrap their fingers around their wrist.</div>
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Well, batten down the hatches, because apparently both my children and
my husband are going through a growth spurt. I am prepping myself for an
interesting week. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HyIIgTFaJ3HYUolvewfVDDZzIg4dw2PWVwS3yXqqMhvbq27lumVMz13lUl3AVsckQTow9ltdWF5Yc8DBkJ7Y2A3tefJWFxDEkeg7mPIgVCzKF1hCTirAiZkEOk5L5e245VX30TC7McrC/s640/blogger-image-1933151058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HyIIgTFaJ3HYUolvewfVDDZzIg4dw2PWVwS3yXqqMhvbq27lumVMz13lUl3AVsckQTow9ltdWF5Yc8DBkJ7Y2A3tefJWFxDEkeg7mPIgVCzKF1hCTirAiZkEOk5L5e245VX30TC7McrC/s640/blogger-image-1933151058.jpg" /></a></div>
Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-61111655591790994092016-09-15T23:43:00.001-06:002016-09-16T21:37:06.823-06:00Global Econ is going to be the death of me... Or Atleast the death ofmy masters degree.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Health care management. </div>
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That's my major. </div>
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Why do I need to understand how China effects the automobile market in the world?</div>
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WHY??</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEwxvq_jbYJ1jabIO8xxaqHVi2l0tmHPulVjjCTKI9Ky8Y6xlagnYoY3-olL66OIDhjSgcp1B3G5k-wZgAuotiMcxt7Mr7DLMqu6zpc1cG9dSDTFVivTwImlmvGgOXMjYNBprFfZggQdg/s640/blogger-image--258765115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEwxvq_jbYJ1jabIO8xxaqHVi2l0tmHPulVjjCTKI9Ky8Y6xlagnYoY3-olL66OIDhjSgcp1B3G5k-wZgAuotiMcxt7Mr7DLMqu6zpc1cG9dSDTFVivTwImlmvGgOXMjYNBprFfZggQdg/s640/blogger-image--258765115.jpg" /></a></div>
Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-58388279166120406382016-09-05T21:52:00.001-06:002016-09-16T21:33:30.940-06:00Last hoorahSchool starts tomorrow. I'm not gunna lie, we had a kind of lame summer. Both Jared and I worked super hard this summer and the kids had to go to camp all summer. Camp sounds fun, until you go for 9 weeks straight.<br />
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Summer wasn't a total bust, but it wasn't our best. </div>
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We decided to spend the holiday and the last day before school hiking. We love hiking. Well, I love hiking. The kids did a good job of humoring me. </div>
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We hiked cape falcon just south of cannon beach. This is one of the less known hikes along the coast. It was beautiful, so green, and almost desserted. We only ran into two other hikers along the trail and its a holiday at the end of summer. The view from the top was beautiful. It was a tad difficult,if I had known how long and strenuous it was, I might have choosen a different hike for he kids sake. </div>
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It was a great day and they are so tuckered they are already asleep, even with the excitement of school starting tomorrow. </div>
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This view is one of the few things that I recognize that I will miss when she grows up. </div>
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The view was awesome, but hearing the waves crash from the high up was awesome. No justice to the view is made from this pic. It was beautiful. </div>
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Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3848945708830588545.post-65596140313552629172016-09-05T21:40:00.001-06:002016-09-05T21:40:43.811-06:00Remember that time Kemiry wore a helmet while doing chores.She is so stinking cute... Sometimes. <br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QR2AUw8BKBicRFGoRiomlVPPbE0wd7km-j6qbZPMQo03T0X1bOJ-rHlP_ZPBJIEtJ-EVIMajEslgD0CqeKRpTQQfW_Hk_rYprrYhID2Fb_Zd4HqXPQAirKsjsX0RYBe69Jm2Siw-g6pf/s640/blogger-image--1293854265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3QR2AUw8BKBicRFGoRiomlVPPbE0wd7km-j6qbZPMQo03T0X1bOJ-rHlP_ZPBJIEtJ-EVIMajEslgD0CqeKRpTQQfW_Hk_rYprrYhID2Fb_Zd4HqXPQAirKsjsX0RYBe69Jm2Siw-g6pf/s640/blogger-image--1293854265.jpg"></a></div>Kristen Mosshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01517396028234128056noreply@blogger.com0