<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQGRn88fip7ImA9WhRaE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:45:27.176-08:00</updated><category term="Gossip" /><category term="Service" /><category term="Stories" /><category term="Technology" /><category term="Musings" /><category term="Meltdown of the week" /><category term="Family" /><category term="God" /><category term="Parenting" /><category term="lists" /><category term="Jobs" /><category term="Youth Ministry" /><category term="Memories" /><category term="games" /><category term="Exercise" /><category term="Apple" /><category term="Poop" /><category term="Focus" /><category term="Transitions" /><category term="Household" /><category term="iPhone" /><category term="Baseball" /><category term="Diet" /><category term="Sunday" /><category term="Apps" /><category term="Body of Christ" /><category term="For Fun" /><category term="Life Happenings" /><category term="Bad Toys" /><category term="Micah" /><category term="Husbandry" /><category term="Mentoring" /><category term="Cooper" /><category term="Video of the Week" /><title>Peter N Anderson</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>188</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/peternanderson/uyYg" /><feedburner:info uri="peternanderson/uyyg" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UEQ3k5cSp7ImA9WhdbEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-4886768573628385994</id><published>2011-10-10T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T07:00:02.729-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-10T07:00:02.729-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Body of Christ" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Youth Ministry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lists" /><title>Hard Relationships</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H88PjPJ2O9iHyEbfgxnRz7tPEPU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H88PjPJ2O9iHyEbfgxnRz7tPEPU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H88PjPJ2O9iHyEbfgxnRz7tPEPU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H88PjPJ2O9iHyEbfgxnRz7tPEPU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This is the type of person I want in my corner when things get hard and I need someone to carry me:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. They need to love Jesus&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. They need to love you&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. &amp;nbsp;They have to be brave enough to call you out&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. They have to be willing to get in trouble with you&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. They have to be committed&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What'd I miss?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-4886768573628385994?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/cgonmHV3l6o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/4886768573628385994/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=4886768573628385994" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4886768573628385994?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4886768573628385994?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/cgonmHV3l6o/hard-relationships.html" title="Hard Relationships" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/10/hard-relationships.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EERH8yeip7ImA9WhdUGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-6176729710985308842</id><published>2011-10-06T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T07:00:05.192-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-06T07:00:05.192-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Body of Christ" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stories" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Baseball" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="God" /><title>Baseball is Life</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ntLNji0BoACWgs94NvdXjp3Zli0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ntLNji0BoACWgs94NvdXjp3Zli0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ntLNji0BoACWgs94NvdXjp3Zli0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ntLNji0BoACWgs94NvdXjp3Zli0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I can remember when I was seven years old I went to a Giants and Dodgers game, I was as close to hell as I ever hope to get, Dodger Stadium. &amp;nbsp;In that game in 1992 a pitcher named Kevin Gross did the unthinkable to my Giants, he threw what is known in the biz as a no-no. &amp;nbsp;I was the only person in the stadium crying tears of anger and sadness as I walked out with my Dad who was wearing a Dodgers hat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That same year on my way home from visiting my aunt and uncle in San Mateo I cried as news broke that the Giants were going to be moved to Tampa Bay. &amp;nbsp;They ended up staying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A year later I was at Candlestick park sitting in terrible seats when chants began to ring out, first it was "BEAT LA" then an inning later it turned to, "DODGERS SUCK."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I was ten I went to a game for my neighbors birthday, I got to run the bases at 3COM park at Candlestick Point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In 2000 I went with my Dad sat 13 rows behind home plate and watched the fifth game ever played at AT&amp;amp;T Park as Barry Bonds faced off against Randy Johnson.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My Dad slipped into a coma that night he never woke from hours after Bonds broke the all time home run record of 755, he ended with 762.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took Sarah on our first date to watch the Giants get beat by the Twins.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took Cooper to his first game at four weeks, and Micah to his first at five weeks, it happened to be game three of the NLCS where Matt Cain shut down the Philadelphia Phillies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I watched the Giants win their first World Series in 56 year with four generations of fans, the youngest being less than two months old and the oldest being in their 70's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I watch baseball because I love the game. &amp;nbsp;I love situations, I love the grass, I love that the game that was invented over 150 years ago has remained largely unchanged, I love that no matter what happens in life, baseball will be there. &amp;nbsp;The history is rich, the stories have been written since the 1880's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is just enough time in baseball to see tragedy and triumph coming at you like a freight train.&lt;br /&gt;
There is enough time in life to have no clue what is going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Baseball, like any other hobby or sport that people love to revel in and waste time on, is great for enriching your life, but terrible for turning it into your life. &amp;nbsp;There was a successful t-shirt that said, "Baseball is life" I had one, I wore it with me blue and white striped denim shorts in the early 90's. &amp;nbsp;That shirt is not only wrong, it's sad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Life is bigger than that, it is more important than that. &amp;nbsp;We've been entrusted to pass on a message that is better than tracking a team. &amp;nbsp;What have you dedicated your life to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-6176729710985308842?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/lUBGOwWpvRk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/6176729710985308842/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=6176729710985308842" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6176729710985308842?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6176729710985308842?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/lUBGOwWpvRk/baseball-is-life.html" title="Baseball is Life" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/10/baseball-is-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUEQHg-fip7ImA9WhdUGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-6820690730974674929</id><published>2011-10-05T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T07:00:01.656-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-05T07:00:01.656-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Body of Christ" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Youth Ministry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Husbandry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mentoring" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><title>Confrontation Sucks</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wywEAVWsLRTFT5LdPh_IvstxZVQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wywEAVWsLRTFT5LdPh_IvstxZVQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wywEAVWsLRTFT5LdPh_IvstxZVQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wywEAVWsLRTFT5LdPh_IvstxZVQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I hate confrontation. &amp;nbsp;Not like the kind where Maximus kills Caesar in the final scene of Gladiator, that type of conflict is awesome. &amp;nbsp;I don't like real conflict. &amp;nbsp;Real conflict like you see a brother or sister in Christ that needs to be loved back to where God wants them and the only way to do that is by speaking truth into their life, real, nasty, hard to swallow, truth. &amp;nbsp;These conversations are terrible, no one looks forward to them, but in order to continue growing in faith you have to have hard conversations, you have to do hard things.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Growing up I didn't like to stir the pot, I was often referred to as the voice of reason because I never wanted to rock the boat I never wanted to do anything that was going to get me in trouble, no matter how big the explosion was or how many pieces it blew up into. &amp;nbsp;I like being safe, I liked being comfortable. &amp;nbsp;Throughout these least two years I have come to terms with the idea that if you want to be a good man, husband, disciple, and friend you have to have hard conversations. &amp;nbsp;You have to have conversations that make you uneasy because these conversations are what help people grow, they help us grow.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I am glad I have a group of friends that is more than willing to nail me to the wall if I am acting in a way that is unrepresentative of the body of Christ. &amp;nbsp;I am glad I have friends who will look me in the eye and tell me I am wrong. &amp;nbsp;I am glad I have friends that will walk next to me and at times carry me towards righteousness when I have no more strength and a loss of will.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Hard conversations suck.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Confrontation sucks.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
You know why people hate lifting weights? &amp;nbsp;(Other than the fact that it is boring and repetitive (just so I don't offend any really strong people, I lift weights and is may main source of exercise, so back up or I will flex my tricep in your general direction)). &amp;nbsp;People hate lifting weights because you are literally tearing your muscles in order for them to repair themselves and make the bigger and stronger. &amp;nbsp;Last time I checked tearing my muscle wasn't on my short list of things that reminded my of puppies and clouds made of cotton candy.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It's the same thing with confrontation. &amp;nbsp;It sucks, it is literally you telling someone you deeply care about about blind spots in their life. I can't guarantee it will make them a better person, but I can guarantee you will become a stronger version of yourself if you have hard conversations.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-6820690730974674929?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/-CgiFQCTwKs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/6820690730974674929/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=6820690730974674929" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6820690730974674929?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6820690730974674929?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/-CgiFQCTwKs/confrontation-sucks.html" title="Confrontation Sucks" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/10/confrontation-sucks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8FQ3syeyp7ImA9WhdUF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-5855435631700353789</id><published>2011-10-04T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T07:00:12.593-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-04T07:00:12.593-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Apple" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="God" /><title>Waiting Expectantly</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dVyauKwnIu2WbfdwU-BxxxEZFLw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dVyauKwnIu2WbfdwU-BxxxEZFLw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dVyauKwnIu2WbfdwU-BxxxEZFLw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dVyauKwnIu2WbfdwU-BxxxEZFLw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have had a lot of things get my hopes up in the last few days, the first came on Sunday when I heard for the first time that one of my all time favorite shows 'Arrested Development' is coming back for a fourth season as a prequel to a movie that will be released in 2013.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today Sarah and I get to put an offer in on a house that we hope will be our home for a very long time. &amp;nbsp;Yesterday we went to our broker and got pre-qualified for what we are willing to pay for this home and now, we start the wonderfully terrifying journey of purchasing a home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today Apple will introduce their iPhone 5.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All of these things have me more excited than the Dodger players getting news that they would still get paid regardless of filing for bankruptcy. &amp;nbsp;Two of these things I know will go the way I want them to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Apple will deliver, they always do and I just checked for when I am due for an upgrade, (not&lt;br /&gt;
until April unfortunately). &amp;nbsp;I am pretty sure the new iPhone will do all my work for me, including working out. &amp;nbsp;Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Arrested Development will meet my expectations for the simple fact that it has been gone for five years, I have watched the series four times and at this point anything new from the Bluth family is welcome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The one I am not sure of is this whole house purchasing thing. &amp;nbsp;The most important financial decision Sarah and I will make in our entire lives is coming to a head in the coming weeks. &amp;nbsp;This is somethign Sarah and I have soaked in prayer to the best of our ability, God has closed doors on our faces over the past 8 months, we sold a house to buy a specific one only to find out an offer had been accepted the day before we could put an offer in. &amp;nbsp;We lived with my in-laws, my grandfather-in-law, and now we rent a house waiting and waiting and waiting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We want our home to be a place of refuge for people when they come over, we want our home to be a way to bless God with what he has given us, we want to make sure we are being good stewards of what we have been entrusted with.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This home could be the home our kids grow up in, get their license in, leave from when they go to college. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But our home is where we are. &amp;nbsp;It doesn't matter where we are, we are the Anderson's and where we lay our head at night doesn't change that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you have read this far do me a favor and pray for us today, if this isn't where we are supposed to be pray that God would slam the door (gently) and make it evident where he does indeed want us. &amp;nbsp;Have a good Tuesday waiting expectantly for what God has for you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-5855435631700353789?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/4WSOqlhxM78" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/5855435631700353789/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=5855435631700353789" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/5855435631700353789?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/5855435631700353789?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/4WSOqlhxM78/waiting-expectantly.html" title="Waiting Expectantly" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/10/waiting-expectantly.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMFQHc-fyp7ImA9WhdUFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-2502029964353475550</id><published>2011-10-03T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T07:00:11.957-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-03T07:00:11.957-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="games" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Youth Ministry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lists" /><title>Gaming (Not the Nerd Kind)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Fhwq_mlrv9M-jFWKFysmZHCd__4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Fhwq_mlrv9M-jFWKFysmZHCd__4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Fhwq_mlrv9M-jFWKFysmZHCd__4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Fhwq_mlrv9M-jFWKFysmZHCd__4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Here's the deal, I love games. &amp;nbsp;I play games at our youth ministry as a way of getting students involved, getting them more comfortable, and as a way for them to interact with other students and volunteer staff. &amp;nbsp;Last night at Youth we played a game that myself and Alex Harrington, a now graduated student made up one day. &amp;nbsp;It is called Ninja Assassin, and it is glorious.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I won't explain the whole game, but you have three ninja assassins, they "kill" others by sliding two fingers across their neck, when that happens the civilian dies. &amp;nbsp;Ninjas are killed by pulling off a ski mask they are wearing. &amp;nbsp;When/if a ski mask is taken by a civilian, they put it on and are now the ninja assassin. &amp;nbsp;Ninjas can kill other ninjas and the mask they take acts as an extra life. &amp;nbsp;There are no trials and the game doesn't stop until the time limit is reached or there is only one person remaining. &amp;nbsp;Also, and most importantly, the game is played in the dark in a three story church, incredible, I know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I play games I am kind of like a cat and an owl combined, not fast and smart, I sit on top of things and make loud noises. &amp;nbsp;I have noticed a few very distinct personalities that come out during these games that I thought you should know so next time you play Ninja Assassin, or any game of the kind, you can be prepared:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. The Closet Mountain Lion: &amp;nbsp;This is the girl you think is really sweet, innocent and quiet. &amp;nbsp;She probably hasn't said anything all night except how you look like a middle-aged Brad Pitt, don't be upset she said middle-aged though, Brad at any point is a compliment. &amp;nbsp;She probably drinks water and not soda and will give away the candy I threw to her in the audience because she got an answer right. &amp;nbsp;Don't be fooled, she is dangerous, she's ready to pounce and go for the jugular as soon as she is within striking distance. &amp;nbsp;Did you know the spacing of the mountain lions four canine teeth are exactly the width of a single vertebrae of a deer, hers most likely match up with your spine perfectly. &amp;nbsp;Don't be fooled, she will win in the end, and she will let you know about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &amp;nbsp;The Over-Aggressive: &amp;nbsp;You have told this kid to calm down 6 times, three guys have been socked in the nose, a sprained ankle, a concussion, and some cracked ribs are all the result of this player and I barely finished giving the rules. &amp;nbsp;I get it, you want to play and win, so do I, but don't push me over the railing trying to get the ski mask off my head, you can have it, I don't want to die.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. The James Statton: &amp;nbsp;I had a student whose motto was, "If you ain't cheatin' you ain't tryin'." &amp;nbsp;He has better grammar than that in real life, but his motto held true for the vast majority of the games we played. &amp;nbsp;Granted he was better at most games physically, but he could find a loop hole in my rules faster than I could explain in the game. &amp;nbsp;THinking back I think he had a gift that I probably should have encouraged more. &amp;nbsp;Either way, this student will indeed cheat at every possible juncture to win, playing to win isn't good enough winning to win is the only way to keep this player happy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. &amp;nbsp;The Honest Abe- &amp;nbsp;Lincoln was honest but he always gave it the old college try. &amp;nbsp;This student is the one who keeps in mind where they are and the point of what they are doing. &amp;nbsp;They are here to have fun and enjoy their friends. These are the students I wish I was more like in high school. &amp;nbsp;Truth be told I was probably a combo over-aggressive/James Statton. &amp;nbsp;This person will mock you for getting to into the game and laugh at you when you cheat to win, they will also try their hardest when it is their turn to step up to the plate. &amp;nbsp;All in all, they frustrate an over-aggressive because they don't seem to care enough about the game to hurt others to win, and frankly, I say, good for them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What personality are you when when you play games? &amp;nbsp;Which ones did I miss? &amp;nbsp;Let me know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-2502029964353475550?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/bb8GLycLzoA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/2502029964353475550/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=2502029964353475550" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2502029964353475550?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2502029964353475550?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/bb8GLycLzoA/gaming-not-nerd-kind.html" title="Gaming (Not the Nerd Kind)" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/10/gaming-not-nerd-kind.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YAQXY4eyp7ImA9WhdUE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-5153707747125326773</id><published>2011-09-30T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T08:05:40.833-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-30T08:05:40.833-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Diet" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Exercise" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><title>Foods I Love(d)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qGx0P6AeHHcFylQF1cIKS74Sj4U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qGx0P6AeHHcFylQF1cIKS74Sj4U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qGx0P6AeHHcFylQF1cIKS74Sj4U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qGx0P6AeHHcFylQF1cIKS74Sj4U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Yesterday our Junior Pastor Andrew came in to the office and offered me a free burger from Carls Jr. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't just any burger though, it was my life blood throughout high school, my mandatory stop when I was in Merced, this burger is the very reason I had to watch what I was eating starting my Senior Year of High School, it was the Western Bacon Cheese Burger. &amp;nbsp;It is terrible, and full of stuff that shouldn't be put into your body in the form that it comes, and I have done a great job at swearing off the WBCB (my pet name for it) but today I couldn't handle it anymore, I felt like Squints in the movie 'Sandlot' when his hormones finally get the best of him and he tricks Wendy Peffercorn into kissing him, except this was a burger not a lifeguard, and I ate it, I didn't make out with it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So what's the big deal? Its just a burger. &amp;nbsp;Until today I had done really well on my diet and exercising, a slipped up a few times but today after indulging in the barbecued goodness that is processed beef topped with fried everything and bacon, I felt like everything I had done until this point had been erased. &amp;nbsp;I know it hasn't, but it inspired me to make a list of things I won't be eating ever again, or as long as I don't eat them, whichever comes first:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Reese's Twister from Foster's Freeze: &amp;nbsp;It is so good, the perfect blend of peanut butter, chocolate, and vanilla ice cream sliding over your taste buds sends you into a sense of euphoria. &amp;nbsp;Maybe it's a food coma I am thinking of cause this little baby, the small, allots for half of your daily caloric intake, the small! &amp;nbsp;This is tough for me as I work literally 100 yards from Foster's, and I am pretty sure the don't have fro-yo and celery sticks as an alternative.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &amp;nbsp;Sal's Salsa- Technically this is a lie, I will eat Sal's salsa again, just not while I am in the restaurant, they trick you by putting the salsa next to the chips, before you know it you are on your fifth basket of corn tortilla chips and the waiter hasn't even taken your order yet. &amp;nbsp;Salsa = Good, as long as it is on toast with eggs whites, but they discontinued that at Sal's due to a low demand, something about not having enough lard in the ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. &amp;nbsp;Soda- I love soda, it tastes good, it's refreshing, they have cool logos on their cans, but a smart man once said, "Don't drink soda." I am no idiot, I listen to smart people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. &amp;nbsp;Cheese- Growing up my teacher's always told me about cheese being in the dairy category of the food pyramid. &amp;nbsp;If it made the pyramid, you were to eat it. &amp;nbsp;I grew up eating cheese faster than cows could produce it, or the Hilmar cheese factory, one of the two. &amp;nbsp;It was the perfect snack for a lazy teen, easy to prepare, if there was only a bit left you didn't even have to slice it, you just got a block of cheese to eat while watching the Simpsons at 5:00 and 6:00 every night on Fox. Somewhere along the line someone informed my that cheese is not something that should be consumed in large quantities, unfortunately for me it is the only way I consume cheese so I must banish it, forever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. &amp;nbsp;Jelly Donuts- &amp;nbsp;You would think one would satisfy your desire to have sweets in the morning but you'd be wrong, I am pretty confident these are 95% air, therefore forcing you to eat at least 7 to be completely full (someone check my math, I switched to a Communications Major for a reason).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank you for letting me tell you what I won't be eating for until forever, it really helped me realize how much I miss the incredible taste of processed fat. &amp;nbsp;What is your go to food when you want your caloric fill in 15 minutes? &amp;nbsp;These have all at one point or another been mine, thank God it wasn't all in the same meal, I probably would have exploded from joy or sugar poisoning, is that a thing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-5153707747125326773?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/pr8K5N20h4U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/5153707747125326773/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=5153707747125326773" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/5153707747125326773?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/5153707747125326773?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/pr8K5N20h4U/foods-i-loved.html" title="Foods I Love(d)" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/foods-i-loved.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMESXY6eip7ImA9WhdUEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-3844896539209083109</id><published>2011-09-28T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T07:00:08.812-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-28T07:00:08.812-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Body of Christ" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><title>This is Enough</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p-TSMzhC91PscHsD7SqFfvaNEdE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p-TSMzhC91PscHsD7SqFfvaNEdE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p-TSMzhC91PscHsD7SqFfvaNEdE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p-TSMzhC91PscHsD7SqFfvaNEdE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Yesterday, Sarah and I noticed a sizable leak coming from the toilet in our master bedroom, it proceeded in the wall and into a storage closet in our bedroom. &amp;nbsp;We we lifted things off the floor in the closest they were wet and moldy. &amp;nbsp;It was a disaster, and by was I mean is, we are sleeping in the guest bedroom until it gets fixed. &amp;nbsp;On the bright side it is kind of cute watching Cooper and Micah walk around in little toddler sized gas masks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We have been renting this house for the past few months waiting until we are qualified to buy another home to do just that. &amp;nbsp;The original intention was to buy the house we are renting, truth be told, between the leaking sewage incident and the fact that I don't think us and the owners are going to get to a price we are both happy with we have been looking elsewhere. &amp;nbsp;I mean, Sarah has been searching online, but when you are looking in a small town like Kingsburg for a home, you will probably drive by a new home for sale before you see it online. &amp;nbsp;Needless to say, we are on the hunt and have a beaut in our sights.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I won't tell you where it is because I don't want you to stalk me, actually you can stalk me, just don't put an offer in on the house we want. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It never seizes to amaze me how God reminds you that he is in control, and in ways that a lot of times frustrate teh heck out of me. &amp;nbsp;After seeing and drooling over the home we saw, Sarah came home and listened to a sermon by Brad Bell. &amp;nbsp;She felt convicted about giving something more attention than her relationship with God, I merely told her to stop listening to Brad. &amp;nbsp;She remained adamant though and has forced us to slow down and count the blessing God has given us already. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have been thinking about the phrase, "This is enough."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As in, "God, this is enough. &amp;nbsp;You have blessed me immensely and now you are just showing off. &amp;nbsp;I have two healthy kids, a job, a wife with a job, a car that runs smoothly (most days) and an incredible base of friends and family. &amp;nbsp;This is enough.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And every time I get anxious and worry about financials or try to tell other buyers that their are ghosts in the house, I remember that this is enough.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What blessing do you have that you forget about? &amp;nbsp;Maybe they are staring you in the face and you are looking right passed them. &amp;nbsp;How about the ability to have a kid? &amp;nbsp;What about having a job, even if you hate it? &amp;nbsp;What about having enough money to food on the table every night? &amp;nbsp;What blessings are you forgetting about?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As you recount them, remember, "This is enough."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-3844896539209083109?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/sNxVHp2H8VI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/3844896539209083109/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=3844896539209083109" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/3844896539209083109?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/3844896539209083109?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/sNxVHp2H8VI/this-is-enough.html" title="This is Enough" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/this-is-enough.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcESXs6eCp7ImA9WhdUEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-4308463234473609325</id><published>2011-09-27T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T07:00:08.510-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-27T07:00:08.510-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Apps" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="iPhone" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Apple" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>Dad Apps</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sFxJh82bTUmLn6D0LZVLMLgWhdY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sFxJh82bTUmLn6D0LZVLMLgWhdY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sFxJh82bTUmLn6D0LZVLMLgWhdY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sFxJh82bTUmLn6D0LZVLMLgWhdY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Last week I talked about the apps that sit around on my phone and I don't use, my &lt;a href="http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/crap-apps.html"&gt;crap apps&lt;/a&gt; if you will.  As you can probably figure I have an iPhone, we have a love hate relationship, I love it and I hate when it isn't with me.  It has essentially replaced every other piece of technology I use on a regular basis other than my computer that I use for word processing and blogging.  So instead of the terrible apps that have no point of being on my phone, lets talk about the apps I use on a daily basis as a dad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. Camera-&lt;/b&gt; I wish I had the money to get a camera I don't know how to operate, but I don't so instead of packing a camera and extra charger, I don't.  The camera on my phone takes relatively good pictures and the majority of the pictures we take come from it.  If I want to edit my pictures I have the ability to, if I want to be trendy I can instagram it up.  I can instantly upload pictures of my ridiculously cute kids to Facebook.  We have more pictures of our kids this year because of this app than my mom has of me, ever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cnlm0OvujiE/ToGBMTg3BWI/AAAAAAAABFI/M4HfR43aUPI/s1600/photo+1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cnlm0OvujiE/ToGBMTg3BWI/AAAAAAAABFI/M4HfR43aUPI/s320/photo+1.PNG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. White Noise-&lt;/b&gt; This has been a lifesaver on numerous occasions.  We use this app to drown out the other sounds while our kids are sleeping.  This app has come to our rescue when we forget the kids sound machine and has also been incredible to not have to pack the bulky CD player or sound machine when we go on trips, again, it is in my pocket and good to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0pB5itqDgzg/ToGBNEwcaKI/AAAAAAAABFM/V4aLD6BRwYA/s1600/photo+2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0pB5itqDgzg/ToGBNEwcaKI/AAAAAAAABFM/V4aLD6BRwYA/s320/photo+2.PNG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.  Peekaboo Wild-&lt;/b&gt; Kids meltdown, it is inevitable and only a matter of time.  Cooper has outgrown this app and gets bored pretty easy but Micah has just discovered how incredible this is.  It makes a 15 minute car ride bearable when it could have been a stressful crazy disaster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OkZA_P4Xyvs/ToGBNpC4rNI/AAAAAAAABFQ/klzXFQMLy10/s1600/photo+3.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OkZA_P4Xyvs/ToGBNpC4rNI/AAAAAAAABFQ/klzXFQMLy10/s320/photo+3.PNG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Again, I love my phone, and for different reasons but it makes parenting easier and I am  able to catch more memories because of it.  There are always those times that your phone can be a distraction, so be wary of overusing technology and overusing your phone.  Be present when your kids are but if used correctly, can be a great addition to your parenting arsenal.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here's some fun Coop had on my phone the other day. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PMERjHhVbNU/ToGKV9Cyk4I/AAAAAAAABFU/tw1nC5dywmE/s640/blogger-image--340226669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PMERjHhVbNU/ToGKV9Cyk4I/AAAAAAAABFU/tw1nC5dywmE/s640/blogger-image--340226669.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wNgynV-5KCw/ToGKWDFH35I/AAAAAAAABFY/ztmAC7E_-SU/s640/blogger-image--325817808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wNgynV-5KCw/ToGKWDFH35I/AAAAAAAABFY/ztmAC7E_-SU/s640/blogger-image--325817808.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wn_GC9-HnnA/ToGKWKDvDQI/AAAAAAAABFc/jjqCCHNioeg/s640/blogger-image--990810121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-wn_GC9-HnnA/ToGKWKDvDQI/AAAAAAAABFc/jjqCCHNioeg/s640/blogger-image--990810121.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4kQ6VZBVCQ0/ToGKWdzIN5I/AAAAAAAABFg/hxgApcWzElc/s640/blogger-image-818728607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4kQ6VZBVCQ0/ToGKWdzIN5I/AAAAAAAABFg/hxgApcWzElc/s640/blogger-image-818728607.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-4308463234473609325?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/MsrzLWE0Uho" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/4308463234473609325/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=4308463234473609325" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4308463234473609325?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4308463234473609325?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/MsrzLWE0Uho/dad-apps.html" title="Dad Apps" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Cnlm0OvujiE/ToGBMTg3BWI/AAAAAAAABFI/M4HfR43aUPI/s72-c/photo+1.PNG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/dad-apps.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EESHs5cCp7ImA9WhdUEEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-864441873598346009</id><published>2011-09-26T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T07:00:09.528-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-26T07:00:09.528-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>What'd I Just Say?</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jn33Dixy8uZ3-istmhbLuGdzP0E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jn33Dixy8uZ3-istmhbLuGdzP0E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jn33Dixy8uZ3-istmhbLuGdzP0E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Jn33Dixy8uZ3-istmhbLuGdzP0E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;As I was walking into church this morning with my wife and two kids we ran into our good friends the Silvas. &amp;nbsp;They have been parents now for about 5 months and are very much into the swing of parenthood. &amp;nbsp;I know this because as we approached the church Denver asked his wife if she remembered the 'Horsey.' &amp;nbsp;He was referencing the unicornesque stuffed animal that is one of their kid's favorite toys, but hearing a man as rugged as Denver watering down a word to make it more kid friendly made me laugh a bit and simultaneously lose respect for him as a man. &amp;nbsp;I started thinking about all of the hits my manhood has taken by the change in language that occurred when a kid popped out of my wife. &amp;nbsp;Here are a few words that I never would have said as bachelor but now are in my everyday vocabulary:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. Cute-&lt;/b&gt; Sounds innocent enough right? &amp;nbsp;Wrong. &amp;nbsp;I can feel the testosterone leaving my body any time I say, "Sarah, Micah looks so cute in that sweater vest and button up shirt outfit today." &amp;nbsp;It is like that word is the thorn and manliness is the inflatable raft you bought this summer at Walgreens for 7.99, if they ever touch, it is gone forever. &amp;nbsp; Sounds innocent, and that is the problem, it sounds innocent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;2. &amp;nbsp;Y, EY, IE, S-&lt;/b&gt; These are suffixes that have the power to emasculate any word within a five mile radius. &amp;nbsp; Even gross words are disarmed by these suffixes, poopy, toots, tinkles, etc. &amp;nbsp;If you utter words with these suffixes it is quite possible your facial hair will fall out and you will start smelling better immediately. &amp;nbsp;At first it sounds like a good trade off, all you have to do is add a Y to the end of a word and you don't have to shave anymore, sweet. &amp;nbsp;You are wrong though, who is the last man you respected without any facial hair that isn't me? &amp;nbsp;Thats what I thought, none men, and my grammar is incorrect because it made me feel more good about I as a manly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;3. &amp;nbsp;Potty-&lt;/b&gt; Being in the midst of potty training with Cooper I say this word hundreds of times a day, in fact the most commonly heard phrase in our house right now is, "Cooper, do you have to go tinkles on the potty?" &amp;nbsp;Really!? A twenty year old version of myself would have beat me up for saying anything even remotely close to that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;4. &amp;nbsp;Paci &amp;nbsp;(Pass-ee)- &lt;/b&gt;Is in Pacifier shortened. &amp;nbsp;This is a word that I thought was a good compromise at first because I wasn't going to be caught dead saying "binky." &amp;nbsp;It doesn't matter if it is binky, paci, or meemer, they all sound like sound effects for a terrible action movie.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You know how Chuck Norris is going to die? I do. &amp;nbsp;He is going to say the word 'paci' and roundhouse kick himself in the mouth for saying it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;5. &amp;nbsp;Bah-bah-&lt;/b&gt; As in bottle. &amp;nbsp;Bah-bah isn't bad, for a one year old they can say it and they know what you are referring to so it isn't so much baby talk for the sake of baby talk but rather for the sake of communication, it is his evil twin brother with a creepstache that stays home online talking to hot chicks that I have an issues with, bah-bahs. &amp;nbsp;It is an abbreviation of the actual word combined with the emasculating suffix of 'S' that causes this word to be so disarming to manhood that if uttered you are forced to buy an American-Girl doll and take it with you everywhere. &amp;nbsp;It is a terrible occurrence but I have seen it happen, twice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In reality I don't have beef with any of these words as I use them on a regular basis but still enjoy watching baseball even if I don't understand the rules or chatting over a warm cup of coffee cuddled in a soft blanket with my BFF. Crap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Moms and Dads, what are some words that entered into your home when a baby did? &amp;nbsp;I really am interested to hear these, please leave your comments below. &amp;nbsp;Happy Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-864441873598346009?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/sJvsRG2POBM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/864441873598346009/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=864441873598346009" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/864441873598346009?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/864441873598346009?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/sJvsRG2POBM/whatd-i-just-say.html" title="What'd I Just Say?" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/whatd-i-just-say.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMER3w9eip7ImA9WhdVF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-6488997163757120966</id><published>2011-09-23T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T07:00:06.262-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-23T07:00:06.262-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Baseball" /><title>Musings on the Week</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TvCiKIQVQfDaPHA_ExngeuNuXeA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TvCiKIQVQfDaPHA_ExngeuNuXeA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TvCiKIQVQfDaPHA_ExngeuNuXeA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TvCiKIQVQfDaPHA_ExngeuNuXeA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Since I am at home a lot now I don't get a chance to talk with adults as much as I used to, because of that I have a lot of thoughts run through my head that I don't get to talk about to people over three feet tall. &amp;nbsp;That being said, here are my thoughts throughout the week:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
1. &amp;nbsp;I drank more coffee than I should have this week, I believe it is related to getting less sleep than I should have but I am not confident in that assessment, I will let you know when my children wake me up at 5:30 tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
2. &amp;nbsp;Complaining about Facebook on Facebook is like complaining about animal rights while cooking a &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; t-bone. &amp;nbsp;Don't like it? Switch to Tofu. &amp;nbsp;Don't like tofu? &amp;nbsp;Good, Ron Swanson would be proud of you. &amp;nbsp;Don't know who Ron Swanson is? &amp;nbsp;That means you spend too much time watching Meredith Grey sulk and not enough time laughing your head off. &amp;nbsp;Don't know who Meredith Grey is? Congrats on being the .5% of our population who is living their own adventure rather than watching someone else's.&lt;br /&gt;
(Note: I am not part of that .5%)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. &amp;nbsp;Mark Zuckerberg is every bit as awkward as me my Sophomore year. (I was a late bloomer, you want to fight?)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. &amp;nbsp;Don't fret if your kid isn't reaching benchmarks before all of their punk friends, with their dry underwear and their ability to remember the number 15 when counting to 20, God made them perfect and they will hit their benchmarks when they are ready and God has planned.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. &amp;nbsp;When potty training sometimes you just have to throw underwear away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. &amp;nbsp;When &lt;i&gt;your kid&lt;/i&gt; is potty training sometimes you just have to throw underwear away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. &amp;nbsp;A well timed poop joke is the best fodder for comedy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
8. &amp;nbsp;Audiobooks are great as long as you want to listen to the same person talk for five hours straight without remembering a word of what they said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What are some of your random thoughts throughout the week? &amp;nbsp;What about Facebook's announcements or the Dodger fans that finally have something to cheer about (the inevitable collapse of my favorite team, the Giants)? &amp;nbsp;Have a good Friday, I hope as you read this I am asleep or drinking my third cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-6488997163757120966?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/RUxT3074AaQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/6488997163757120966/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=6488997163757120966" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6488997163757120966?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6488997163757120966?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/RUxT3074AaQ/musings-on-week.html" title="Musings on the Week" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/musings-on-week.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcFQXk8fSp7ImA9WhdVF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-7573631871125997172</id><published>2011-09-22T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T07:00:10.775-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-22T07:00:10.775-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>The Couch</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bUkEAW-TUXMHRlMUPbL94LubfgE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bUkEAW-TUXMHRlMUPbL94LubfgE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bUkEAW-TUXMHRlMUPbL94LubfgE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/bUkEAW-TUXMHRlMUPbL94LubfgE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;When we got a new couch two years ago we paid an extra fifty bucks to get it insured. &amp;nbsp;Not insured like the Lord&amp;nbsp;&lt;span id="goog_232323912"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_232323913"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;of the Dance's legs, but insured like if my youngest son vomits all over it and me at the same time people would come to our house and clean it, for free (or for fifty bucks, I'm not really sure how it works). &amp;nbsp;I'm not sure how it works because we have never used it. &amp;nbsp;The thought of calling some dude to drive 30 minutes to my house to shampoo my couch and clean off boogers doesn't appeal to me. &amp;nbsp;By the time I clean up my entire house so it's presentable for the tatted up college-aged shampoo guy I could have scratched to snot off the sofa myself, plus I wouldn't have to clean my house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You are asking yourself two things right now:&lt;br /&gt;
1. Why would you clean your house for a guy to come clean your house?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Good question, ask my mom the same thing about our house cleaner who came every Wednesday when I was 10.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &amp;nbsp;Why did you pay fifty bucks and not take advantage of what you payed for?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Again, good question, but this time don't ask my mom, she will be embarrassed that I wasted my money, also, don't judge me.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fF6jJI7jGwQ/TnphEiclEYI/AAAAAAAABFA/0tO5r4lazAg/s1600/e56a845eec8146c689a6e21aef2b679e_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fF6jJI7jGwQ/TnphEiclEYI/AAAAAAAABFA/0tO5r4lazAg/s320/e56a845eec8146c689a6e21aef2b679e_7.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In a fairytale the 50 dollars for a cleaning any time you want sounds great, but in reality, with two boys, spilled milk, snot, blood (at times), and poop, lots of poop, things get dirty everyday, new spots get a home everyday. &amp;nbsp;And everyday, or every other, they get cleaned up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Right now we are renting a home in Kingsburg, CA, we like it, but I never noticed how much damage two kids and two active dogs could do. &amp;nbsp;I hope my landlord isn't reading this, but the week we moved in, the old cat door to the garage was snapped in half, not by my dogs, by Micah. &amp;nbsp;Who doesn't want to play with broken plastic and at the same time make a hole into the garage?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the Fourth of July our dogs flipped out and tore off two screen doors, one of which I am pretty sure survived the great depression without being turned into firewood, but couldn't stand up to our loveably hyper animals.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our couches double as jungle gyms, our beds as trampolines, and our lawn as bathrooms (for the dogs, mostly).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Rarely is there a day when there is more sitting on our couch than there is jumping. &amp;nbsp;And for us, that is okay for now. &amp;nbsp;When Cooper and Micah start to weigh in at 50-60 lbs, our couch won't be able to handle the stress of body slams and tackling drills anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
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Our house doubles as a jungle gym, what does yours double as? &amp;nbsp;Office? Gym? Media Center? Church? After school hangout?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-7573631871125997172?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/POgOHQ3kosY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/7573631871125997172/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=7573631871125997172" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/7573631871125997172?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/7573631871125997172?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/POgOHQ3kosY/couch.html" title="The Couch" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fF6jJI7jGwQ/TnphEiclEYI/AAAAAAAABFA/0tO5r4lazAg/s72-c/e56a845eec8146c689a6e21aef2b679e_7.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/couch.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4EQXo6fyp7ImA9WhdVFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-6869674373700854733</id><published>2011-09-21T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T07:05:00.417-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-21T07:05:00.417-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Husbandry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><title>Boxes</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VghXpbYo7am1-F5eFYjGQH8-Blc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VghXpbYo7am1-F5eFYjGQH8-Blc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VghXpbYo7am1-F5eFYjGQH8-Blc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VghXpbYo7am1-F5eFYjGQH8-Blc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;
When I was about 12 or 13 I remember watching TV with my Dad and he turned on a show that featured some dude pulling a string out of his stomach and twenty minutes later he was gravitating in the middle of the street and all the boys on the stoop were blown away. &amp;nbsp;It was David Blaine before he started doing things like trying to set world records for publicity. &amp;nbsp;At one point I remember one of my Junior High Friends asking me is I thought Blaine was the Anti-Christ, I was concerned at the time, then I realized the Anti-Christ would probably have better things to do than impress girl scouts with his ability to find their card.&lt;/div&gt;
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One of the dumbest things Blaine every did was try to live in a box suspended over England's River Thames for 44 days surviving on merely 4.5 liters of water per day. &amp;nbsp;Incredible? Yes. &amp;nbsp;Stupid? Yes.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;
Since Sarah and I switched to a single income we sold my truck since we weren't going to be able to afford to have two cars. &amp;nbsp;It was an easy decision for us, and truthfully it hasn't been too difficult, we just have to plan our day better.&lt;/div&gt;
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But because we have one car, Sarah takes the car to work during the week which leaves me and the boys at home. &amp;nbsp;At times it makes me feel like I am suspended in a box over England. &amp;nbsp;The furthest I can go is immediately related to the maximum distance the boys can travel without melting down or about 300 feet.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;
Obviously I love our house and where we live but not having the ability to do something as simple as run errands wears on the psychy. &amp;nbsp;So here we sit on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays playing in the back yard, cooking food all day, coloring at the table, and trying to get my oldest son to stay in bed during nap time.&lt;/div&gt;
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Is it the same as living in a box? &amp;nbsp;No, it is smarter. &amp;nbsp;But there are times it absolutely feels isolating, especially when our roles feel like they have been flip flopped. Sarah was made to be a mom, to love and nurture and care for those that used to live inside of her. &amp;nbsp;I feel like I was meant to make money for our family and support us in that capacity.&lt;/div&gt;
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Needless to say we are still trying to figure out how this year is going to work. &amp;nbsp;We will do it to the best of our capacity and eventually I am sure we will get back to where we are most comfortable but until then it is walks to the corner and back for the boys and me.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;
Is there anything about your daily life that makes you feel like you are an illusionist trying to stay in the spotlight a bit longer by being locked in a box?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-6869674373700854733?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/5FYO1fYms08" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/6869674373700854733/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=6869674373700854733" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6869674373700854733?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6869674373700854733?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/5FYO1fYms08/boxes.html" title="Boxes" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/boxes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUFQXkzeSp7ImA9WhdVFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-8528934777965515575</id><published>2011-09-20T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T07:00:10.781-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-20T07:00:10.781-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Apps" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Technology" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="iPhone" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Apple" /><title>Crap Apps</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3oPWeDgQPQKk97OJIjq3qaloSfQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3oPWeDgQPQKk97OJIjq3qaloSfQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3oPWeDgQPQKk97OJIjq3qaloSfQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3oPWeDgQPQKk97OJIjq3qaloSfQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I am a big fan of all things i.  I got an iPhone as soon as I could afford one and a Mac before I needed to replace my old computer.  I wasn't originally an Apple person, I thought Steve Jobs was creepy in a college guy going to a high school party kind of way.  I thought he was trying to show me how to be awesome without in fact being awesome.  I don't trust anyone whose neck I can't see, it is just my standard rule.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All that being said, I always have my phone on me, always. Today I wanted to let you in on some of my least favorite apps.  I get sick of the apps that people hock all over the internet telling people how awesome Evernote is and how Facebook is now more accessible than ever so today, just the Crap Apps that for some reason are still on my phone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-R1aV8PW060g/Tngc3TjdKtI/AAAAAAAABE0/nSEu9s5Eh7U/s640/blogger-image-1280238963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-R1aV8PW060g/Tngc3TjdKtI/AAAAAAAABE0/nSEu9s5Eh7U/s200/blogger-image-1280238963.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Compass: &lt;/b&gt;I believe this was rolled out in the release of the 3Gs, I was excited to see it and play with it and obviously go exploring with it to find buried treasure.  This is the biggest waste of space on my phone, I have literally never used it and Steve refuses to let me delete it off my phone.  Good call turtleneck, force me to keep apps that I will never open, Voice Notes falls into the same, I will never ever use you, category.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CO24pSLkaJY/Tngdm7MbliI/AAAAAAAABE8/Dr1-qj6gLl4/s1600/blogger-image-1430456365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CO24pSLkaJY/Tngdm7MbliI/AAAAAAAABE8/Dr1-qj6gLl4/s1600/blogger-image-1430456365.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Magic Piano:&lt;/b&gt;  As much as I enjoy playing 'The House of the Rising Sun' on my phone over and over again because it is one of the only free songs on this App, it stays in my Entertainment folder and gets opened once every 3 months.  It is another incredible app put out by Smule that I never use.  It allows me to pretend to play piano without actually pressing any keys but merely tapping my screen over and over and over.  I get bored faster than Tim Lincecum pitching to the Dodgers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-U9ZNTMIT_2k/Tngc3hYD83I/AAAAAAAABE4/v4c0C1WP0tY/s640/blogger-image-2030610918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-U9ZNTMIT_2k/Tngc3hYD83I/AAAAAAAABE4/v4c0C1WP0tY/s200/blogger-image-2030610918.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dragon Dictation:&lt;/b&gt; I love the concept of this app, speak into it, it writes down what you say, awesome right? Yeah, as awesome as he Dodgers winning a World Series.  Here's the problem, it takes longer to speak into the phone, correct the mistakes, and then send your message than it would to just text the message in the first place.  It's a great idea, but until it gets a bit further down the developmental freeway, it will sit in my Productivity folder feeding me empty promises about how great it is .&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a ton of apps that I use and love on a regular basis, Twitter, MLB At Bat '11, Blogger, Zombie Freeway, ZOMBIE FREEWAY.  You have an iPhone or Droid?  Awesome, whats your Crap App on it?  Don't have a smart phone? Congrats, what technology do you have that is a total waste of it existing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-8528934777965515575?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/xQSYpaKj4jU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/8528934777965515575/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=8528934777965515575" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/8528934777965515575?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/8528934777965515575?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/xQSYpaKj4jU/crap-apps.html" title="Crap Apps" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-R1aV8PW060g/Tngc3TjdKtI/AAAAAAAABE0/nSEu9s5Eh7U/s72-c/blogger-image-1280238963.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/crap-apps.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cHQng4eSp7ImA9WhdVFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-2058662456272071089</id><published>2011-09-19T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T09:17:13.631-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-19T09:17:13.631-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Husbandry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>I'm a Student of My Work</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gu1MzC0stjey-BUcx8k964VY9fM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gu1MzC0stjey-BUcx8k964VY9fM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gu1MzC0stjey-BUcx8k964VY9fM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gu1MzC0stjey-BUcx8k964VY9fM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have been a part time stay at home dad now for about a month and I decided that it is time to let you all know about some of the best things I have learned since staying at home. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. My wife is way better at staying home than me&lt;/b&gt;- I needed to get that out of the way because since being at home I can finally appreciate the work she has put in with our boys by staying at home. &amp;nbsp;I am more tired at the end of a stay at home day than I am after work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;2. You have to feed your kids 3 meals a day&lt;/b&gt;- Granted I knew that, but I am pretty sure I am cooking for 16 hours a day right now. &amp;nbsp;And it isn't just cooking one meal that the boys and I can sit down and eat together, it is differentiating meals for my 1 year old, 2 year old, and myself and frankly... I'm a picky eater.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;3. Tangled is the best thing on Netflix&lt;/b&gt;- I am pretty sure I have seen different parts of this movie about 100 times, my kids still aren't tired of it, nor am I. &amp;nbsp;Flynn Rider is my hero, mostly because his facial hair&amp;nbsp;mimics my own, a patch on the chin and nothing else. &amp;nbsp;It is about time we get rid of this idea that manliness comes with a full beard, I am starting to equate manhood with a smallish patch of hair on the bottom of people's faces, right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;4. &amp;nbsp;Cooper loves his brother to the point of pain&lt;/b&gt;- 99% of the crying that happens in this house is due to Cooper trying to hug his brother, or move his brother, or tackle his brother. &amp;nbsp;Trying to explain to a two year old that he can dominate his little brother and he needs to be careful is like explaining to a horse that I am terrified to get on his back. &amp;nbsp;It doesn't register, and now matter how much I talk someone is still going to get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;5. &amp;nbsp;White floors are not conducive to raising children- &lt;/b&gt;Really? Who installs white laminate anywhere? Thanks landlords for making me clean my floors hourly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;6. Deadbolts are non-negotiable&lt;/b&gt;-&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;Coop has a desire to sneak outside any chance he gets, he is like David Copperfield without the terrible wardrobe, bad hair, and womanizing ways. &amp;nbsp;He can reach the knobs now but the deadbolt is still out of reach, gotta keep 'em locked, always.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yup, six things I have learned since staying at home, mostly common sense, but to a man who has to live it to appreciate it, some of these have blown my mind.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stay at home moms and dads, what is the funniest thing you have learned since being at home?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-2058662456272071089?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/hHBL4IrQ3b4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/2058662456272071089/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=2058662456272071089" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2058662456272071089?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2058662456272071089?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/hHBL4IrQ3b4/im-student-of-my-work.html" title="I'm a Student of My Work" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/im-student-of-my-work.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMER38_fyp7ImA9WhdVE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-5504257791214503773</id><published>2011-09-18T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-18T07:00:06.147-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-18T07:00:06.147-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sunday" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Video of the Week" /><title>Sunday Video of the Week</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ru53xI2kWFM-lB-a_-yMc11hGoY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ru53xI2kWFM-lB-a_-yMc11hGoY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ru53xI2kWFM-lB-a_-yMc11hGoY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ru53xI2kWFM-lB-a_-yMc11hGoY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This is from Tripp and Tyler over at &lt;a href="http://trippandtyler.tv/"&gt;TrippandTyler.tv&lt;/a&gt; All of their videos are incredible but I was a big fan of this little guy. &amp;nbsp;Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="235" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FBGmhPlJxWg" width="380"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-5504257791214503773?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/XQPvunx_gsw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/5504257791214503773/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=5504257791214503773" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/5504257791214503773?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/5504257791214503773?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/XQPvunx_gsw/sunday-video-of-week.html" title="Sunday Video of the Week" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/FBGmhPlJxWg/default.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/sunday-video-of-week.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8CQn4zfCp7ImA9WhdVEkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-7524490985323523160</id><published>2011-09-17T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T11:07:43.084-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-17T11:07:43.084-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Focus" /><title>Focus IV and My Waistline</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2H1WVbqLT4DRAGo-tq7KWGWkgCw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2H1WVbqLT4DRAGo-tq7KWGWkgCw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2H1WVbqLT4DRAGo-tq7KWGWkgCw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2H1WVbqLT4DRAGo-tq7KWGWkgCw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
I turned 25 and my metabolism broke, at least that is what I have told myself as an excuse as well as a reassurance of the possibility that it may indeed fix itself. In this whole idea of focus I haven't talked much about my focus, but I did tell you briefly that my declining health had reached critical mass as had my waistline.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy7R_IJmVe8/Tm-zXkxusoI/AAAAAAAABBc/g-YezwwWUnQ/s1600/photo.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy7R_IJmVe8/Tm-zXkxusoI/AAAAAAAABBc/g-YezwwWUnQ/s320/photo.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I know some of you are thinking, "Peter, don't be ridiculous you are the very definition of man," and for that I thank you, but I have also begun to realize that I am not 17 anymore and I don't burn 1,000 calories a day swimming in a speedo (you're welcome for that mental image).   I have also realized that there is this crazy thing called metabolism that God created to keep us honest about the foods we ingest and about the same time we are forced to pay taxes he slows this thing down, way down.  I don't listen to country music much anymore, but it reminds me of the line in Trace Adkins song "Hot Mama" that says, "you want that body back you had at 17."  So in case you were wondering, yes, I want to be a hot mama.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In my study about focus this little diddy came up in &lt;i&gt;1 Corinthians 9:27, "but I discipline my body and make it my slave, so that, after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dangit.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This idea of remaining healthy and staying fit has always been something that was in the back of my mind even when I could wear a size 30 speedo and my man thighs didn't rip the bottom seam of my suit.  I knew my whole life I was going to have to be aware of my weight when I got older because my Dad struggled with his weight as he aged.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
About 5 weeks ago I hit a weight that I never wanted to be and beyond that a waist size I can barely count to.  I decided something needed to change, I needed to focus.  I needed to make my body a slave to the discipline that not only are we called to as Christians but also to my commitment to be on this earth as long as I can for the furthering of the message of Christ and for the well-being of my family (yes, they are better off with me here, at least at this point in our lives).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This focus hasn't been easy and as I write this we are having some friends and family come over to eat pizza and hang out with babies.  A perfect night as long as I don't give in to the temptation of blurring my focus.  The fact is that it is easier to blur your eyes when they are in focus than to try and focus them when you need glasses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Focus needs to remain at the forefront of my thoughts,  the verse that has torn my to shreds is 1 Corinthians 3:13-14 (&lt;a href="http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/focus.html"&gt;which I talk about in my first post&lt;/a&gt;) and in that passage the term "strain forward" shows up.  In order to focus I have to strain forward, and that word strain conjures up feelings of pain and constancy, which is what we have to endure  in order to focus.  At times we need to endure pain and we always must remain constant lest we fall back into our old habits.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So my weight is not yet under control but I have remained focused in my pursuit to get it there.  In other words I have 5 weeks down and about my whole life to go.  Focus, it isn't always easy, but my straining forward will allow me to reach my desired goal.  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What goals do you have that you need to strain for?  What areas of your life do you need to discipline?  How big is your waist line? (Just kidding).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Have a good weekend all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-7524490985323523160?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/URMXVqjedcI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/7524490985323523160/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=7524490985323523160" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/7524490985323523160?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/7524490985323523160?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/URMXVqjedcI/focus-iv-and-my-waistline.html" title="Focus IV and My Waistline" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy7R_IJmVe8/Tm-zXkxusoI/AAAAAAAABBc/g-YezwwWUnQ/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/focus-iv-and-my-waistline.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAERXY7cSp7ImA9WhdVEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-1037063237934743245</id><published>2011-09-16T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T08:25:04.809-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-16T08:25:04.809-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poop" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Transitions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Focus" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><title>Focus III on Poop</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EXL-_TNE-WS_r6D1Vmy4uSx7QG4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EXL-_TNE-WS_r6D1Vmy4uSx7QG4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EXL-_TNE-WS_r6D1Vmy4uSx7QG4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EXL-_TNE-WS_r6D1Vmy4uSx7QG4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;When I was being potty trained it was really easy for me, so easy that I don't even remember it, which means it couldn't have been that insurmountable of an obstacle. &amp;nbsp;I must have been drawn to the porcelain naturally, consequently, I still am, hmm. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjCTIXqhGoM/TnNp63Qts7I/AAAAAAAABEs/ELDJXAPxkf4/s1600/toilet-lego.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjCTIXqhGoM/TnNp63Qts7I/AAAAAAAABEs/ELDJXAPxkf4/s320/toilet-lego.jpg" width="318" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Cooper has been in the midst of potty training for the last twoish weeks and he has been a champ when it comes to onesies (the act peeing in the toilet, not the popular baby clothing). &amp;nbsp;He even sleeps through his naps and the night without wetting the bed, pretty awesome. &amp;nbsp;Twosies thus far have been an issue though. &amp;nbsp;By issue I mean he went numero dos in his underwear and as I was cleaning that up he squatted again and pooped on the floor, while 4 of my best friends were chatting with me on Google+, awesome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;I started thinking about the change that Cooper is trying to make. &amp;nbsp;For two and a half years this kid has done his business in what he was wearing and continued on his way as if nothing were wrong, because in his mind, there wasn't. &amp;nbsp;Now he is at a point where he has to change his entire way of thinking. &amp;nbsp;It isn't just the act of going to the bathroom in the toilet, it is the act of recognizing that what he is doing is no longer acceptable and he needs to change that habit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I read this verse this morning and the thought of focusing has ripped me to pieces lately:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Romans 8:5&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;For those who are according to the flesh set their minds on&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;sup class="xref" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-NASB-28122A&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference A&amp;quot;&amp;gt;A&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the things of the flesh, but those who are according to the Spirit,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;sup class="xref" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;" value="(&amp;lt;a href=&amp;quot;#cen-NASB-28122B&amp;quot; title=&amp;quot;See cross-reference B&amp;quot;&amp;gt;B&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;)"&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;the things of the Spirit."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;When we focus it isn't just that we need to know what we are doing and the direction we are headed, but we need to make sure our thinking is changing from the flesh to the Spirit. &amp;nbsp;We need to make sure our focus is on the Spirit and what He has for us, not what we wish we had ourselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;That's when I thought about the change Cooper is making into self-sufficiency, and obviously we have a ways to go before we can wash our hands of helping him in the bathroom or even dressing him for that matter, but he is on his way to &amp;nbsp;life change because he is recognizing that the old way of doing things is no longer okay, their is a new better way to do his business.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;We need to focus on the new, better way of doing our business, focusing our minds and our sights on the Spirit, not on the flesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;What is something you have had trouble focusing on because it was difficult to attain?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;Mine is staying in decent shape. &amp;nbsp;We will talk about that tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-1037063237934743245?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/ughQL-8zv9o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/1037063237934743245/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=1037063237934743245" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/1037063237934743245?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/1037063237934743245?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/ughQL-8zv9o/focus-iii-on-poop.html" title="Focus III on Poop" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZjCTIXqhGoM/TnNp63Qts7I/AAAAAAAABEs/ELDJXAPxkf4/s72-c/toilet-lego.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/focus-iii-on-poop.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEAQXo5fCp7ImA9WhdVEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-6244488101508133531</id><published>2011-09-15T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T16:17:20.424-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-15T16:17:20.424-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Baseball" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>Micah Turned One</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PDzHbe0seNj4JXAM9mXwVcskrW4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PDzHbe0seNj4JXAM9mXwVcskrW4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PDzHbe0seNj4JXAM9mXwVcskrW4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PDzHbe0seNj4JXAM9mXwVcskrW4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We had Micah boy's first birthday party here about a month ago and Sarah was a champ and did just about everything herself. &amp;nbsp;With some great last minute help from my Mom, her husband Loyd and Sarah's parents the party was great. &amp;nbsp;I thought I would share a few pictures from the festivities which was an All-American Baseball theme.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Papa Loyd&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Juniper, Cooper, and my cousin Becky&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sarah's Mom Susan&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My favorite moment when Sarah's grandpa Dick tried to give Micah some of his Dr. Pepper&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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Ryan (Sarah's Brother) Brad (Sarah's Dad) and Bergie (Sarah's Grandpa)&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;It was a great party overall and Sarah was a champ completing this party after her first week back to school in a new grade. &amp;nbsp;We love our Micah boy and feel so blessed by those who are a part of his life both near and far away.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-6244488101508133531?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/aHgXjKbDkZ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/6244488101508133531/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=6244488101508133531" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6244488101508133531?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/6244488101508133531?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/aHgXjKbDkZ4/micah-turned-one.html" title="Micah Turned One" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I7H9Ft5RaZA/TnER0ZEwK3I/AAAAAAAABDs/xS_hC4RCYbs/s72-c/IMG_2232.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/micah-turned-one.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYMQn47eSp7ImA9WhdVEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-4965545484470065525</id><published>2011-09-14T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T10:09:43.001-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-14T10:09:43.001-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Youth Ministry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Focus" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Jobs" /><title>Focus II</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ3WUMlsFtNssQWzfo8n_hF7kiM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ3WUMlsFtNssQWzfo8n_hF7kiM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ3WUMlsFtNssQWzfo8n_hF7kiM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rQ3WUMlsFtNssQWzfo8n_hF7kiM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have been trying to lose weight recently, I am not doing P90X, or drinking green tea, mostly because I can't afford either, I am merely eating better and exercising. &amp;nbsp;About a week into this whole weight loss thing I went on a run and I got a sharp pain on the inside of my left leg, slightly above my ankle. &amp;nbsp;I ignored it and kept running, I figured it would go away like spider bites and feathered hair. &amp;nbsp;The next day I went out to run again and the same thing happened except the pain was more severe and started to hurt with each step I took. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I went to my doctor, Doctor Internet, and she told me (Yes, the internet is a girl) I had a stress fracture in my leg, usually brought on by excessive running after long periods of fat. &amp;nbsp;I didn't want to give up on my diet but running is the way I have always slimmed down when I wasn't feeling comfortable and this stress fracture was knocking me out of running for 6-8 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;
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I had to figure something out, because with the holiday season coming up I needed to lose weight so I could put it back on and continue the vicious cycle. &amp;nbsp;I decided I had to eat waaaaay better, that cheese was &amp;nbsp;not a food group, and that the weight set in my garage was going to be put to good use. &amp;nbsp;So I'm three weeks in and have been pretty successful thus far, but I had to focus on my goal in order to achieve success.&lt;br /&gt;
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The idea of focus has been plaguing me (I am always scared I am going to misspell plaguing and make it plaquing and then the whole world will think I have bad teeth). Focus is a funny thing because you don't realize you are out of whack until you are squinting to see the score of the game, or asking your wife to read the back of the cereal box to you. &lt;br /&gt;
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Focus, like a lot of things is something you don't miss until it is gone. &amp;nbsp;It begs the question, "how, then, do I get focused?" &amp;nbsp;For me, I am a "type A" personality when it comes to my expectations of others and a "type B" when it comes to others expectations of me, that may just mean I am a jerk, but I do indeed expect a lot out of myself. &lt;br /&gt;
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I can't accomplish much, however, unless I feel like my private life is in order, this can be anything from, I forgot to do the dishes that I told Sarah I would take care of to lingering sin issues in my life. &amp;nbsp;Unless I clear up the junk that is hindering me from straining forward, then I become distracted.&lt;br /&gt;
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So, how do I focus? I clear out the junk and strain forward, with my eye on the prize. &amp;nbsp;That and have a strong cup of coffee before, during, and after work.&lt;br /&gt;
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How do you focus?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-4965545484470065525?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/T8Pv38yQF44" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/4965545484470065525/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=4965545484470065525" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4965545484470065525?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4965545484470065525?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/T8Pv38yQF44/focus-ii.html" title="Focus II" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/focus-ii.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQGRnszfCp7ImA9WhdWGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-97371715142765470</id><published>2011-09-13T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T12:48:47.584-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-13T12:48:47.584-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Body of Christ" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Youth Ministry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Service" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Jobs" /><title>Focus</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d7n9fYBkS4PGZU8TCtEKgnR_nt4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/d7n9fYBkS4PGZU8TCtEKgnR_nt4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
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I spoke at Immanuel High School's Chapel today. &amp;nbsp;It got me thinking about the message that i deliver on a regular basis and whether or not what I say on stage changes depending on the way I want to be perceived. &amp;nbsp;When I got to IHS and speak I am at a venue of about 300 people where 99 percent of the students profess a love of Christ. &amp;nbsp;Awesome, that being said, I want to make sure that I am both challenging and light hearted, which should probably be my goal for every talk, however, when I go to speak at special venues I try to put my best foot forward, there is something about a strange place with hundreds of people that stirs me to try and be better than I am. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
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I work harder on my talk I cross reference more, I practice before I deliver it, etc. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
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My question is this, why not put forth that effort all the time?&lt;/div&gt;
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How much better could I represent the gospel by developing the abilities that God has given me and honing them to a place of&amp;nbsp;excellence? &amp;nbsp;On Sunday Nights am I pouring over scripture to see the&amp;nbsp;entirety of the meaning God has for us? &amp;nbsp;Am I practicing my delivery before I get on stage? Or am I letting myself be stagnant and settling for mediocre?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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The pursuit of excellence starts with movement in one direction, towards a goal, a fixed point. &amp;nbsp;We need to start that pursuit.&lt;/div&gt;
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We have all been there, realizing our potential is sitting with us on the coach watching "The Wizard" and dreaming about owning the Nintendo 'PowerGlove' because, "It is bad!"&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;
Lets move our potential off the coach and start to channel it into the things we want to do, the things God has gifted us with the ability to do. &amp;nbsp;Let's (Wo)Man up.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-97371715142765470?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/WVKv5OS4YZc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/97371715142765470/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=97371715142765470" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/97371715142765470?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/97371715142765470?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/WVKv5OS4YZc/focus.html" title="Focus" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xy7R_IJmVe8/Tm-zXkxusoI/AAAAAAAABBc/g-YezwwWUnQ/s72-c/photo.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/focus.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYBQH8zfSp7ImA9WhdWGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-3539289730373487971</id><published>2011-09-12T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T10:05:51.185-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-12T10:05:51.185-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Husbandry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Transitions" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>Slowin'</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zThxWH_tQEfizUDhL8NSx_7Oy2Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zThxWH_tQEfizUDhL8NSx_7Oy2Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zThxWH_tQEfizUDhL8NSx_7Oy2Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zThxWH_tQEfizUDhL8NSx_7Oy2Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7_63ICqOn_I/Tm45bdjePAI/AAAAAAAAA_8/9SdSdKMtZ1c/s1600/photo-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7_63ICqOn_I/Tm45bdjePAI/AAAAAAAAA_8/9SdSdKMtZ1c/s320/photo-1.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Monday, Wednesday, and Friday&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Life change is crazy. &amp;nbsp;Since Sarah and I have been married there hasn't been a single year where we have had the same combination of jobs or the same number of occupants twice in a row. &amp;nbsp;Since we got married one thing has remained the same, I have always been employed full-time. &amp;nbsp;Cooper was born, I still got eight hours to myself during the day, Micah was born, same thing, we moved, I got eight hours of freedom from the madness of unpacking. &amp;nbsp;I always had an outlet at work to be able to sideline my thoughts and just do the work that I felt called to do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then last November happened, I came to a point in my life where I had to make a decision, I need to continue my education and it was going to be in either Seminary or in teaching. &amp;nbsp;After a ton of prayer and seeking the counsel of some of the people I trust the most in my life I decided that God was leading me away from full-time ministry. &amp;nbsp;Since then I have almost completed my Single Subject Credential for English, and am now working part time at Selma FBC as the High School Pastor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the past when things changed it was all about life speeding up, an addition to the family, an opportunity to speak somewhere, a new house, fixing a new house, selling a new house, etc. but this time the change is about slowing down, and it is one of the hardest adjustments I have ever had to make. I check Twitter about 70 times a day in between making meals for my kids and doing the laundry... again. &amp;nbsp;Slow is hard for me, especially when my wife is working but her heart is to be at home with her boys and I love my boys but I wasn't made to nurture them the way Sarah does, so I would prefer to work as she stayed home. &amp;nbsp;It makes it even harder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know as a Pastor I am supposed to have this whole, "be still and know that I am God," thing down, but I don't, not even close. &amp;nbsp;I have been forced to slow down, forced to wake up at 6 am when my boys do and have nothing to do but take care of them (which is huge job in itself) all day long. &amp;nbsp;I have no where to go because Sarah has the only car, it is too hot for the park right now, and I am not taking my kids to any play dates because that'd be awkward for me and the other guardian who I guarantee is female (you know they are female because a man wouldn't call it a play date, they would call it tackle football).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Regardless, God is teaching me to slow down and to remember what is most important in my life. &amp;nbsp;I have to go and save Cooper from a scary lion that doesn't exist. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-3539289730373487971?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/9n6w02kT4dg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/3539289730373487971/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=3539289730373487971" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/3539289730373487971?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/3539289730373487971?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/9n6w02kT4dg/my-monday-wednesday-and-friday-life.html" title="Slowin'" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7_63ICqOn_I/Tm45bdjePAI/AAAAAAAAA_8/9SdSdKMtZ1c/s72-c/photo-1.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/09/my-monday-wednesday-and-friday-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEEQXs7cSp7ImA9WhdQF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-2082282054362334460</id><published>2011-08-19T15:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T15:40:00.509-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-19T15:40:00.509-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Micah" /><title>Micah Boy</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vP6Ot5xaWZVx_DVBfoRKDvhQMk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vP6Ot5xaWZVx_DVBfoRKDvhQMk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vP6Ot5xaWZVx_DVBfoRKDvhQMk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8vP6Ot5xaWZVx_DVBfoRKDvhQMk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;On here I mostly complain to you all that I am really tired or how school is hard or how my life is crazy busy, not today. &amp;nbsp;Today I will not complain, as a matter of fact I am going to tell you about something incredible that happened to Sarah and I exactly one year ago today. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HyX0G3T1qZo/Tk6jRayFCbI/AAAAAAAAA6U/AnUfJ3K9fwY/s1600/DSC09049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HyX0G3T1qZo/Tk6jRayFCbI/AAAAAAAAA6U/AnUfJ3K9fwY/s200/DSC09049.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had Micah Boy, yeah, this one ---------------------------------------------------&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first night we had him he slept all night, didn't make a peep, ate like a champ and I got to stay at the hospital with Sarah, life was good. &amp;nbsp;The next night same story, except we got to sleep at home. &amp;nbsp;Every night since then, save about 30 (bare in mind I do camps and mission trips that take me away from home for about 20 of those nights), Sarah and I haven't gotten a full nights sleep. &amp;nbsp;Why? Because Micah I am convinced hates sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Contrary to his brother, who would sleep the majority of the day if you let him. &amp;nbsp;He is like an adolescent who enjoys watching 'Wonder Pets.' &amp;nbsp;Regardless of the lack of sleep Micah had colic, he had jaundice, and he still doesn't have very much hair. &amp;nbsp;But we love our boy, Micah Boy as he was affectionately dubbed by Coop. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Birthday Micah Boy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are a few pictures from when this kid popped out. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-2082282054362334460?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/ujwQ2GGNRps" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/2082282054362334460/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=2082282054362334460" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2082282054362334460?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2082282054362334460?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/ujwQ2GGNRps/micah-boy.html" title="Micah Boy" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HyX0G3T1qZo/Tk6jRayFCbI/AAAAAAAAA6U/AnUfJ3K9fwY/s72-c/DSC09049.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/08/micah-boy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8ERHg4cSp7ImA9WhdQF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-4325203712546914675</id><published>2011-08-19T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-19T06:00:05.639-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-19T06:00:05.639-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cooper" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><title>Staying Regular</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94m40vcBOcIfZAaly9NJy7rybPo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94m40vcBOcIfZAaly9NJy7rybPo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94m40vcBOcIfZAaly9NJy7rybPo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94m40vcBOcIfZAaly9NJy7rybPo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Aound the Anderson home routines are very important, mostly because if I don't have a routine established I will most likely be as productive as the road workers who have been causing my 10 minute commute to be a 12 minute one. &amp;nbsp;Needless to say most of the routines we have established are based around the boys and their need for regularity (both their schedule and their bowels).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cooper has now established his own routine though, it is about as cute as a routine can be, and be cute I mean rugged in a future lumberjack with lots of chest hair and Y chromosomes sort of way. &amp;nbsp;We brush his teeth, we read him one of the same four books we read every night then we turn off his light. &amp;nbsp;Well, he turns out his light when we lift him up the pull the chain. &amp;nbsp;Every night he asks if he can pull the other chain, every night we say, "No, not that one." He says, "Okay Mommy and Daddy." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After the lights is out we say his bedtime prayer with him. &amp;nbsp;As soon as "amen" hits he pushes me away to both hug his mom alone and to say, "Daddy, where'd you go?" It was hilarious the first 3-4 times he did it, now I think he is&amp;nbsp;actually&amp;nbsp;trying to get rid of me. &amp;nbsp;We put him into his big kid bed, Sarah sings to him and he's out for the night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Either Cooper is going to have a severe case of OCD or his need for normalcy is the same as an adults. &amp;nbsp;We establish routines for comfort as that is how we work best, play best, and live best. &amp;nbsp;Maybe, we can all take a page out of Cooperman's book. &amp;nbsp;What routines do you keep on a regular basis?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-4325203712546914675?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/JUEr2u0tqoI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/4325203712546914675/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=4325203712546914675" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4325203712546914675?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/4325203712546914675?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/JUEr2u0tqoI/staying-regular.html" title="Staying Regular" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/08/staying-regular.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUFQX09eyp7ImA9WhdQFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-2640025124340888522</id><published>2011-08-16T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T07:00:10.363-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-16T07:00:10.363-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Youth Ministry" /><title>Camp Bands Are Like Relationships</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jMPiLv5aoK6Hzl1jGbgOkfVIL-s/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jMPiLv5aoK6Hzl1jGbgOkfVIL-s/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jMPiLv5aoK6Hzl1jGbgOkfVIL-s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jMPiLv5aoK6Hzl1jGbgOkfVIL-s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have always been jaded when it comes to camp bands, not because I don't appreciate what they do, but because there is a cycle that happens over the course of the week every year. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Night one is the awkward first date- you are trying to see what each other are all about, fast songs with too much bass or acoustic set with stools? &amp;nbsp;New songs that read more like a novel, old songs that never should be considered at a youth camp, or really old songs that are made relevant again because a sweet riff was added before the second chorus? &amp;nbsp;Teach me hand motions, but don't expect me to use them until Wednesday, because I don't trust you with my heart yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Night two is the beginning of the honey moon phase- I LOVE AARON HOFFMAN! His sweet faux hawk and approachable demeanor gets me every time, not to mention did you hear his vocals on Rise and Sing? That guy is a beast! It is this stage that sets up night three.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Decision Night, or the DTR of camp bands- Don't know what DTR is? &amp;nbsp;You must be new to the faith, it stands for Define the Relationship and it is a terrible acronym that has been used for way too long in Christian circles. &amp;nbsp;That being said, the band has a lot of pressure on them to perform on decision night, too fast and the kids are too squirrely and the speaker isn't heard, too slow and you might as well have sung a lullaby to the entire chapel, the speaker has no chance. &amp;nbsp;Not too mention the impromptu encore that the speaker will call for while he is in the midst of the salvation prayer for 270 kids. &amp;nbsp;(Band Front man: Hey cool camp speaker, we didn't plan anything or talk about this. Cool camp speaker: It's ok, just play anything) &amp;nbsp;Lots of pressure here, bands are made and destroyed on decision night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. Assuming the DTR went well, refining stage- &amp;nbsp;This is when people start feeling comfortable enough to ask the band to start playing their favorite worship songs or ask them if they need a back up vocalist for the night, because, "I am a really good singer." &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The rest of the week is a blur of good vibes and hocked merchandise. &amp;nbsp;Autographs are signed and a note folded in the shape of a heart is given to the lead singer by a girl who doesn't realize the inappropriateness of the gesture or the level of awkwardness that it creates by anyone within a 50 foot range of the note. &amp;nbsp;After camp Facebook blows up with friend requests and walls are written on with lyrics from favorite songs or jokes that were hatched during the week.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I love camp bands, ours this year (The Aaron Hoffman Band) was incredible and the ministry they do is impossible to recreate on a regular basis. &amp;nbsp;Here's to the guys who make deep V's look good. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-2640025124340888522?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/uo0L7u1pjQU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/2640025124340888522/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=2640025124340888522" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2640025124340888522?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/2640025124340888522?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/uo0L7u1pjQU/camp-bands-are-like-relationships.html" title="Camp Bands Are Like Relationships" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/08/camp-bands-are-like-relationships.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8EQno5eip7ImA9WhdQFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5641817804535851051.post-3079801736079801595</id><published>2011-08-15T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T07:00:03.422-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-15T07:00:03.422-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Household" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Husbandry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Happenings" /><title>I am Dad, Hear Me Roar</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-nj0ywHiVfo5h2O8nDHc1OoKNyg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-nj0ywHiVfo5h2O8nDHc1OoKNyg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-nj0ywHiVfo5h2O8nDHc1OoKNyg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-nj0ywHiVfo5h2O8nDHc1OoKNyg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I am a fan of being busy. &amp;nbsp;I like having things to do and a time frame to do them in. &amp;nbsp;I am a big fan of all things crazy fast, except Nascar, I hate Nascar. &amp;nbsp;Starting today though, I am a stay-at-home dad for three days a week. &amp;nbsp;Three days a week I get to read books before nap time, change diapers that have exploded out the side, and have Cheerios as one of my main food groups. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been so swamped with life over the past year that I haven't had a chance to inhale and enjoy the blessings that God has given us. &amp;nbsp;Between work and school I feel like I haven't had the opportunity to just be with my kids. &amp;nbsp;Do I see them? &amp;nbsp;Yup, all the time. &amp;nbsp;And I enjoy them when I am with them and eat my meals with them and kiss them goodnight. &amp;nbsp;But it has all been so fast paced that I don't get the opportunity to enjoy the kisses and meals and night time prayers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I get that chance. &amp;nbsp;Today starts that opportunity for me and frankly I am ecstatic. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason I get to stay home is because my wife is going back to work full time. &amp;nbsp;She, for the past year has been my support staff, around the house, with the boys, with meals, with life, she has supported me in every facet. &amp;nbsp;Now I get to return the favor. &amp;nbsp;I want to go shopping for food and cook meals and make her lunch and clean floors. &amp;nbsp;Did I just get a bunch of husband points for saying all of that? &amp;nbsp;Yup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In summary, I get to stay home and be Dad. &amp;nbsp;I am worried about keeping up with two very mobile and always hungry children. &amp;nbsp;And I am amped to be husband to Sarah and support her in whatever needs she may have.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cheers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5641817804535851051-3079801736079801595?l=www.peternanderson.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~4/OGZFzUkWmH4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.peternanderson.com/feeds/3079801736079801595/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5641817804535851051&amp;postID=3079801736079801595" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/3079801736079801595?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5641817804535851051/posts/default/3079801736079801595?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/peternanderson/uyYg/~3/OGZFzUkWmH4/i-am-dad-hear-me-roar.html" title="I am Dad, Hear Me Roar" /><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04566181348851317863</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gdmlql8Edhs/S7z5cang6dI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AJnIw0CCHvA/S220/Blog+1.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.peternanderson.com/2011/08/i-am-dad-hear-me-roar.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

