Monday, January 14, 2013

Where Memories Are Made & Milk is Spilled

  I love my kitchen table. Before we moved into our house, Jacob rigged up some ropes in order to lower it down from this "loft" area in his grandparents shed. It was quite the show!! It's rectangular and has room for guests.
  But it's more than just a table to eat around. It has history. It was once a part of Jacob's family and served as the kitchen table for him. When my parents house burned, his parents graciously opened their storage shed and told them to use anything they needed. So for a while, it served as the kitchen table for my family. And now, it serves as our kitchen table. It's pretty cool that way.
  Growing up, family meals were a big deal. We always, and I mean always, ate together as a family. No distractions. It was the same time every night and it meant we were all together. I grew up knowing that family meals were important and it was something I wanted to continue when I had a family. Thanks, mom and dad :) Family meals were important for Jacob's family, too, and he had the same desire for our family meals that I did. Thanks, Dale and Gaye :)
  But our table has more than history, it has memories and memories in the making and stories to share.
  Like the fun crafts that I do with the girls...and the evidence left behind. I could probably scrub it off real good, but where's the fun that? It gives it character.

  And the time AB practiced her letters...with a sharpie. Just in case I forget how to write my ABC's...

  Lots of yummy meals have been consumed here...

  It holds times when, no matter the disagreement we've had, Jacob and I have been forced to sit across from each other and, without fail, one of us will catch the other's eye and conflict melts away as we remember that we're a team, with the same goal of raising our kids and leading our family in God's will, and just how much we love each other.
  It's a place where we've been reminded of our many blessings and of God's provision for us.


  It holds so many funny stories about the kids that I really can't even begin to write about them.
I love our table and all the things that are stored in the wood that its made of... except the crumbs that I cannot get out of the cracks that separate each section. Yeah, those kinda gross me out.

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