tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89839967199200886202024-03-24T02:22:42.273-07:00It's the little things. . .christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-22132889264513091392010-08-13T23:38:00.000-07:002010-08-13T23:41:38.511-07:00AlmOst ReaDy. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFPnDvJu0I9pPPs61ykCJipNjNO7sNrDU4av3uRXdH2hnlsLYPDLDAsNK-r9oDRuygtocmjHeOLwMIL-Y31i2Vqk58DHKIalpmy5fk4jYrgLVs-7j7Zh3v06KSRv0sf7VdgobqdoyKdE/s1600/almost+ready.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFPnDvJu0I9pPPs61ykCJipNjNO7sNrDU4av3uRXdH2hnlsLYPDLDAsNK-r9oDRuygtocmjHeOLwMIL-Y31i2Vqk58DHKIalpmy5fk4jYrgLVs-7j7Zh3v06KSRv0sf7VdgobqdoyKdE/s400/almost+ready.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505151843047032002" /></a>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-91617310520782815472009-07-09T03:09:00.000-07:002009-07-09T03:13:13.575-07:00Just for Aunt Susie. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeRtxlTSs3GGGCHNXhD1HhIOevTCJNgDcFdyWm-fEjnHDJxrDFLCms84vCDi-FPh1I3W7JIDLt4e8ilmglgVg4xeMSLZjMl3-Km80ByqmB3K-qz81JnQoiKfRHVoxPsaaDUiOB-X97n0/s1600-h/ava+and+ash.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSeRtxlTSs3GGGCHNXhD1HhIOevTCJNgDcFdyWm-fEjnHDJxrDFLCms84vCDi-FPh1I3W7JIDLt4e8ilmglgVg4xeMSLZjMl3-Km80ByqmB3K-qz81JnQoiKfRHVoxPsaaDUiOB-X97n0/s400/ava+and+ash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356401128768617330" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih09upilhFYNPRONh8QH1ebcAv7aGCsq1hMLnzZydjAV9WY42wKf9gqbzacRYppfYKju_hZhCBQeQ-qESNGyT-63dU9avzsOk9GWSzb8mN45KU1PGysg1pxOEsyh91045M1GJucoQB5WI/s1600-h/ava+and+ade.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 346px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih09upilhFYNPRONh8QH1ebcAv7aGCsq1hMLnzZydjAV9WY42wKf9gqbzacRYppfYKju_hZhCBQeQ-qESNGyT-63dU9avzsOk9GWSzb8mN45KU1PGysg1pxOEsyh91045M1GJucoQB5WI/s400/ava+and+ade.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356401118349710562" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs-8f_fNGU_FGcq3IYcbkj3xyILdEsghzY6GBGUT1GukCqH3-HwGH8pHaNNW9WgScPb1p7JHH8KQaGRZK6ex-D8YH3HNbaVzY41Ie0rikiXYpZlnq-U5IuTTD-KPr68uo9MyQ-wCSlMo/s1600-h/ava.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs-8f_fNGU_FGcq3IYcbkj3xyILdEsghzY6GBGUT1GukCqH3-HwGH8pHaNNW9WgScPb1p7JHH8KQaGRZK6ex-D8YH3HNbaVzY41Ie0rikiXYpZlnq-U5IuTTD-KPr68uo9MyQ-wCSlMo/s400/ava.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356400760235759666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE2Tybuju-jqAPnZ43W2vSiC0DCkbVYUFBtGFhy2W43injwEEFMHnQ4IyGLaU4pHDBJdAV4EDBzv_vBoNHRRFFHmF5aFwuZXaD6_rWhimXn7ttJ97fow2ywcM9yZBl_J4PCUvTa7wKFc/s1600-h/yummy+ash.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFE2Tybuju-jqAPnZ43W2vSiC0DCkbVYUFBtGFhy2W43injwEEFMHnQ4IyGLaU4pHDBJdAV4EDBzv_vBoNHRRFFHmF5aFwuZXaD6_rWhimXn7ttJ97fow2ywcM9yZBl_J4PCUvTa7wKFc/s400/yummy+ash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356400756995090882" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGiIgbU4AxcZfDWbVDtgiA5M4p2RxH9fK7H_MUiMae5ynzqf9iadgHQ9vays5TM2m-HUOlda_6L16OHh2YY23TLD-xymDdcTBfTb1CJanj2zLX50bXM9ZCFTE4e7x5_tcu_JPwAvJjteM/s1600-h/ade+pudding.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGiIgbU4AxcZfDWbVDtgiA5M4p2RxH9fK7H_MUiMae5ynzqf9iadgHQ9vays5TM2m-HUOlda_6L16OHh2YY23TLD-xymDdcTBfTb1CJanj2zLX50bXM9ZCFTE4e7x5_tcu_JPwAvJjteM/s400/ade+pudding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356400744635006834" /></a>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-17728399212832527822009-07-09T00:24:00.000-07:002009-07-09T01:02:39.617-07:00"Mad" Coping Skills. . .<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Okay, so who cares why I haven't "posted" in almost three months. . .more on that later--maybe another three months.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Let's talk about what I did TODAY. . .</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I did THREE different classes at THREE different times at this place. . </span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lV5XXECUE1XmA3emaafxWbPAs7bAk3VBVU16hgRGhqjoWZRjZ1pOziJcjXIwoUizhNPCPAD-0dQHnDqsJzdezpOckn-D8ldDpO1BkayAyr-2yEYfzF6hZ6gT0_PA_mi2ftAB5MYbE18/s1600-h/golds+logo.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 201px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lV5XXECUE1XmA3emaafxWbPAs7bAk3VBVU16hgRGhqjoWZRjZ1pOziJcjXIwoUizhNPCPAD-0dQHnDqsJzdezpOckn-D8ldDpO1BkayAyr-2yEYfzF6hZ6gT0_PA_mi2ftAB5MYbE18/s400/golds+logo.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356359130868316434" /></a>I drank about about 33 millions ounces of this stuff. . <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUiQW-3jp5ckvyfXID268c0kPWT5nQ9sZwraT7yx1vmc6yioVhsHhU9H5FGeHQgRarqBAeXJAdSfFP-SS0izStSAILsR778M5yfWsQ93o9hiKxuKTAk6FyPW1VKfxH-0NAkcBnV-EBns/s1600-h/diet+coke+can.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUiQW-3jp5ckvyfXID268c0kPWT5nQ9sZwraT7yx1vmc6yioVhsHhU9H5FGeHQgRarqBAeXJAdSfFP-SS0izStSAILsR778M5yfWsQ93o9hiKxuKTAk6FyPW1VKfxH-0NAkcBnV-EBns/s400/diet+coke+can.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356359126944552418" /></a><div><br /></div><div>And I WASTED over three hours watching this dumb girl make some dumb moves. . .<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3Ay1_iN13Ph7e3fB5EIGNZgR5dsyf3yEH3FGA398hUDQzMLfr3BH_8KDnWCRMbQnLGs1ghgdBkyUIUwh06Qg4R76Wi4XYWZXkHqAjWf4G6pVNSOiTWKhCGZ1ycxONvx0o1SCtJmyEhk/s1600-h/jillian.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD3Ay1_iN13Ph7e3fB5EIGNZgR5dsyf3yEH3FGA398hUDQzMLfr3BH_8KDnWCRMbQnLGs1ghgdBkyUIUwh06Qg4R76Wi4XYWZXkHqAjWf4G6pVNSOiTWKhCGZ1ycxONvx0o1SCtJmyEhk/s400/jillian.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356359123630112642" /></a><br /></div><div>On this dumb show. . .<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbFNiEucFSfYMxdphp3mZLWK25KBrdY3PpJqUsEi9ueG4anXh9vSHqdDeZ4cbsgzLXt70s-s36PpbsrxXlP8EqwKIF-6wseP1k8jR66ExVVNX1aOJ8Z_qQG2PFYcF29tWZtL0efzPv_Y/s1600-h/bachelorette.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 95px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbFNiEucFSfYMxdphp3mZLWK25KBrdY3PpJqUsEi9ueG4anXh9vSHqdDeZ4cbsgzLXt70s-s36PpbsrxXlP8EqwKIF-6wseP1k8jR66ExVVNX1aOJ8Z_qQG2PFYcF29tWZtL0efzPv_Y/s400/bachelorette.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356359122360305218" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Then after I got home from the third cardio class of the day at Golds I pushed play on my answering machine. . .stupid move. Yep, THREE different messages from the hospital wondering "where I was." Seriously---how in THE HELL did I forget I was supposed to work tonight... So here I am on 4 hours sleep from the night before (damn 5:30 a.m. class at the gym) and with a fried brain secondary to a huge influx of caffeine, 'artificial flavors', and mind numbing TV. . .OHHHHH, AND, Jullian--whatever her name is on the Bachelorette--keeps saying (when referring to her boy toys) "him and I." AHHHHHH, soooo buggy!! Seriously, you can't even use proper grammar on reality TV. Bad grammar may be the thing that sends me way over the edge. Oh, mercy---Hope no one get seriously ill tonight.</div><div><br /></div><div>And, clearly, I need to come up with some better, more productive coping mechanisms.<br /><br /><br /></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-48162783241143605022009-04-23T04:29:00.000-07:002009-04-23T04:33:38.675-07:00SPLENDIDLY delightful. . .<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I hope your<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"> day</span></span> is this <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">delightful. . .</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: verdana; font-size: 24px;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQdqL5HI0QkehXE2G_fVXP026IWegDWs21ccREUm3tac6aiaF4g3HUyLRaXPCep6qlLNI0LdG6nOxoj5BG9IMDwaOCTfASeGYNOvfpGgoKlUVg1ucoAXTGANsl77CwHmqMGrFG3suEY4/s1600-h/this+happy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQdqL5HI0QkehXE2G_fVXP026IWegDWs21ccREUm3tac6aiaF4g3HUyLRaXPCep6qlLNI0LdG6nOxoj5BG9IMDwaOCTfASeGYNOvfpGgoKlUVg1ucoAXTGANsl77CwHmqMGrFG3suEY4/s400/this+happy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327847773750965122" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">Cheers,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; ">c.</span></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-5527494641959429642009-04-16T15:40:00.001-07:002009-04-16T23:39:15.524-07:00Easter photos galore!<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">First things first---- this is my DREAM Easter basket. Besides all things </span><a href="http://www.lds.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">gospel</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> and family. . .these are two of my favorite things in the whole world.</span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxPQH3Bvdd6FVXDb0pJVXONTSl-jS0jQp0Ju_K3AFHApbtg84H-Ae8tDxsx6_crz6PL-OrDWnRq5N0DPAYcVG8K73T4XLYOBbYWTeUNxhQ3D5jUYRInG3r42b-df953GMmd7zJu6xVnw/s1600-h/easter+for+mommy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzxPQH3Bvdd6FVXDb0pJVXONTSl-jS0jQp0Ju_K3AFHApbtg84H-Ae8tDxsx6_crz6PL-OrDWnRq5N0DPAYcVG8K73T4XLYOBbYWTeUNxhQ3D5jUYRInG3r42b-df953GMmd7zJu6xVnw/s400/easter+for+mommy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325542815265859266" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">So get ready for an indulging amount of photos. . .sometimes I just can't stop myself. As naughty as they are equally as cute--and I'm pretty sure I am not biased.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I hope you all had a very happy Easter. I most importantly, I hope you all celebrated at the church of your choice. It is so sad that Easter gets so over run by bunnies, chicks, and eggs. Don't get me wrong, as you will see by the photos below I think all that stuff is very fun and we get into the hoopla. But this year I really tried to remind the boys (several times) what Easter was about. And apparently, I failed. Saturday night Ash asked me if "we had to go to chuuuch tomouaw since it is Easteawww?" Seriously. . . arggg. Hopefully Ade is a better teacher than I am. He jumped right in saying, "Ash, we are going to church ESPECIALLY on Easter, cause on Easter we celebrate Jesus' resurrection."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Well, maybe next year we'll do better teaching. Until then, here are some pics from our weekend.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Egg dying. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Ava asleep. . .check!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Stinky vinegar to make those colors vibrant. . .check.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Lots of paper towels. . .check.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Stickers, hot glue, shrink wrap. . .check times 3</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">18 cooled, hard boiled eggs that nobody (but me) in my family will eat. . .check</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">2 eager/impatient boys. . .check, check.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvglPjQ6kYcCY6CPf4M-_nbqKqaFlc9dFG-sPT6vRoZi1fS3Pza-N2Hpw35-FQ9m13xJiqy2o4lUS_bn9iZUNeBrYSyNw-hffnGN-Cmf6F-8JSzPo2QApea7eXUeojCdUXx4IYkyrhyphenhyphenbk/s1600-h/easter+egg+dying2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvglPjQ6kYcCY6CPf4M-_nbqKqaFlc9dFG-sPT6vRoZi1fS3Pza-N2Hpw35-FQ9m13xJiqy2o4lUS_bn9iZUNeBrYSyNw-hffnGN-Cmf6F-8JSzPo2QApea7eXUeojCdUXx4IYkyrhyphenhyphenbk/s400/easter+egg+dying2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325459258578413266" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">This is the one I used hot glue on. I thought I was so cool--putting glue dots on they dying the egg. Pealing off the glue--poof--polka dot egg. The boys thought it was cool for about 4.3 seconds.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgbqMqWYGCkOPGvy70POnOo5mlVpfTSHMrnPpo7gTt3XrE3vhXTsVVFQu7UlOnkCPCDSwAtkK7vs65YeJWi-d3NOAYAgQntEPFxE2kdrEjV-pWnHxDTbLFr0l3PY1g8gUon5rqaLdv04/s1600-h/easter+egg+dyeing4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgbqMqWYGCkOPGvy70POnOo5mlVpfTSHMrnPpo7gTt3XrE3vhXTsVVFQu7UlOnkCPCDSwAtkK7vs65YeJWi-d3NOAYAgQntEPFxE2kdrEjV-pWnHxDTbLFr0l3PY1g8gUon5rqaLdv04/s400/easter+egg+dyeing4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325459253677246514" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtRdGLfV_3GQKROjR0cu1hGZvobAeE3dyrvro87TNdY0mKfdgn252WGbrfMNFBL-ZzAeihQ7qKAZ7NcM4xYWCwZ5YqgxtjIUVmLqrLgay86Dc8pxEmnkSlU4UEmG9OaIsbEhgud-KtVA/s1600-h/easter+egg+dyeing3.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtRdGLfV_3GQKROjR0cu1hGZvobAeE3dyrvro87TNdY0mKfdgn252WGbrfMNFBL-ZzAeihQ7qKAZ7NcM4xYWCwZ5YqgxtjIUVmLqrLgay86Dc8pxEmnkSlU4UEmG9OaIsbEhgud-KtVA/s400/easter+egg+dyeing3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325459248693352194" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">So we may have all had dyed fingers for church the next day. . . oh well.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-InkhjQjTgTew7oDPo9J8FmTysR3pjmEYALdALhimsloc2KLW-N7QMjXeyss3aEPuUeiWr7Vj4P6ZZpe1oDdsySN__HhhsYW10Xzjlgm258wiZAQK2tSrs0dfDrN_TPwuzDthG3r3RJ4/s1600-h/easter+egg+dying1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-InkhjQjTgTew7oDPo9J8FmTysR3pjmEYALdALhimsloc2KLW-N7QMjXeyss3aEPuUeiWr7Vj4P6ZZpe1oDdsySN__HhhsYW10Xzjlgm258wiZAQK2tSrs0dfDrN_TPwuzDthG3r3RJ4/s400/easter+egg+dying1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325459243110996434" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">And you may have noticed that I (the mom) was actually IN a couple of the photos. You ask yourself. . .self-timer? Nope, Q! Yes, there he was snapping a few pics. One, to PRETEND like he was "helping" or "involved" at all. And two, to alleviate some of his guilt for running out during our dye time and doing this. . .</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy55ylzadeYmW7V3ySZSAsp1WNmvA9g2xTXGgwSRT4DBTb-hpjfUwhNaUEuJIFDAwULnYlqfDTltLAKasJD0aMHlC0NXo4zv_oCUX_xWczyLE-GR9ugsIRm0YTV73PcYyyGWHHfYub6pQ/s1600-h/easter+ski.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy55ylzadeYmW7V3ySZSAsp1WNmvA9g2xTXGgwSRT4DBTb-hpjfUwhNaUEuJIFDAwULnYlqfDTltLAKasJD0aMHlC0NXo4zv_oCUX_xWczyLE-GR9ugsIRm0YTV73PcYyyGWHHfYub6pQ/s400/easter+ski.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325459234812548738" /></a>Yep, my awesome Q was skiing ON THE WATER on April 11th. Giddy, just plain old eleven year old girl giddy. . .that's what he was as I listened to his flip flops clickidy click up and down the hallway gathering his stuff. I think the air temp was MAYBE 60 degrees and the water--pretty much freshly melted snow. Good thing we are done having kids cause I am pretty sure he froze his ^&#%$*& off. </div><div><br /></div><div>But-- big ole grin all over his sheepish face when he came home.</div><div><br /></div><div>So this pic is not from the Saturday outing (my camera lens would have frozen up). It is actually from a tournament last summer. But can I just say. . .</div><div><br /></div><div>check out those freakin guns! You go hon!! WHEEEWWW!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward a couple of hours and here is what the Easter Bunny got ready. All by her freakin self, I might add.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AJyr4c7eIp0S13f6GJQeOaiNwZyGZqPsQY3gZJx3cgy3X7nGhHhpEMfEUBVmc33u-OSAnQa4mipT1Pu4_vYgs943zUDNeb8rmi2fFfkBxXkiTa7R7mwQdOWueqSi8hvYaSpkem8ajFA/s1600-h/easter+baskets"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 235px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AJyr4c7eIp0S13f6GJQeOaiNwZyGZqPsQY3gZJx3cgy3X7nGhHhpEMfEUBVmc33u-OSAnQa4mipT1Pu4_vYgs943zUDNeb8rmi2fFfkBxXkiTa7R7mwQdOWueqSi8hvYaSpkem8ajFA/s400/easter+baskets" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325457452808932610" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I just had to throw this pic in. . .Smash is thrilled about his Easter hat. I really do take great joy in torturing my children.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaITBLyKXUmEa51h8J6NaXhfMjpxF-4UfrgAD5bfvAHZyohOtum_-2pmJyYR9JJ5fpcz2ZZBPt8V1enieuREBjtFKhLnnRU15UwFcskbIw32yqLtJAp7mSUMb-S0AZJohZXYRfXUaC-T0/s1600-h/easter+ash.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 311px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaITBLyKXUmEa51h8J6NaXhfMjpxF-4UfrgAD5bfvAHZyohOtum_-2pmJyYR9JJ5fpcz2ZZBPt8V1enieuREBjtFKhLnnRU15UwFcskbIw32yqLtJAp7mSUMb-S0AZJohZXYRfXUaC-T0/s400/easter+ash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325457450108272258" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Easter morning. . .checking out the loot.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnoYV9oQCbGDgsaaxiB_WeiXH1v3Xkpnotsc1UGZmX398GjD2Kpa41i97dm-uvp2ncwJVfBe-iDEeS7IiMkW-GREM9i9zILMOJ6zz6sULpj4gzPHjUMbiY0hpiGuKJkuwE66Hk_3hy0w/s1600-h/easter+loot.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNnoYV9oQCbGDgsaaxiB_WeiXH1v3Xkpnotsc1UGZmX398GjD2Kpa41i97dm-uvp2ncwJVfBe-iDEeS7IiMkW-GREM9i9zILMOJ6zz6sULpj4gzPHjUMbiY0hpiGuKJkuwE66Hk_3hy0w/s400/easter+loot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325455683609577954" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Ready for church--still checking out the loot. Since I am not the most timely person there was ZERO time for cute posed-pretty-lookin-Easter-outfit-pics. Alas, another goal for next year.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQHyly11q-NBfgAN4pHAz4HU4l8AqqzOOPLibUGr-aJa4l-gdLqIxalOYkyEb1gpwxeKkmdqx7diZYnqIPCuto1_7DRTIBTp-OIlO7jFEBQ4m3Vo-1xpod_EYqK2bnjmYwDxByMzb34Q/s1600-h/easter+dress1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQHyly11q-NBfgAN4pHAz4HU4l8AqqzOOPLibUGr-aJa4l-gdLqIxalOYkyEb1gpwxeKkmdqx7diZYnqIPCuto1_7DRTIBTp-OIlO7jFEBQ4m3Vo-1xpod_EYqK2bnjmYwDxByMzb34Q/s400/easter+dress1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325455679152867746" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>After church---baskets, eggs, dresses, hats, smiles--well, maybe not so much of the latter.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGDghRiaGBYKtRm6yNcT5JaqvZWuVW5Sr-kYDx6-wM3Vp_XvkrA1KSMoHNQrVyXOtlFP3dXpSvY8BEEX_HD1VOWqW11JeUyRqtQYPzWBcWEJfOh5ac65q_GTj_EQIhuYJY5AHxoWj1pXA/s1600-h/easter+ava+basket.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGDghRiaGBYKtRm6yNcT5JaqvZWuVW5Sr-kYDx6-wM3Vp_XvkrA1KSMoHNQrVyXOtlFP3dXpSvY8BEEX_HD1VOWqW11JeUyRqtQYPzWBcWEJfOh5ac65q_GTj_EQIhuYJY5AHxoWj1pXA/s400/easter+ava+basket.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325455676694038354" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Smash has a new favorite color. . .yep, blue--anything blue. He loved this blue egg and held it for nearly 2 days.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTQnAmXZFBC3UN8GCJHh_dsikJzLqdCWr1FHgQCYXJ0mozhUvK7N8dyb592919r2QH-rZDYERaASwKEsRvSZqX4JAXWkQRLenxPMCf87xK-PqvdxtQUs81xHUxVofGJx6s81IWxmgg3A/s1600-h/easter+ash+%26blue+egg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTQnAmXZFBC3UN8GCJHh_dsikJzLqdCWr1FHgQCYXJ0mozhUvK7N8dyb592919r2QH-rZDYERaASwKEsRvSZqX4JAXWkQRLenxPMCf87xK-PqvdxtQUs81xHUxVofGJx6s81IWxmgg3A/s400/easter+ash+%26blue+egg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325455670991881378" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This egg had yummy candy in it--Ade was smelling and maybe smooching it a bit, such a ding dong!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7z9GyNOse4sqxTYDqt9zQj2PminSsp4h_NKEh0Wlf0S_GdMyINU3fsjwy4deEIA3UwI_ZrSi6aLgldlBSFUjRYPJMNvMHnRk1ZV_zrZ1GnIATeaMhoLG2ts1qFsAh6YNVeDnMjFUa_TI/s1600-h/easter+aiden+loves+egg.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 325px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7z9GyNOse4sqxTYDqt9zQj2PminSsp4h_NKEh0Wlf0S_GdMyINU3fsjwy4deEIA3UwI_ZrSi6aLgldlBSFUjRYPJMNvMHnRk1ZV_zrZ1GnIATeaMhoLG2ts1qFsAh6YNVeDnMjFUa_TI/s400/easter+aiden+loves+egg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325455667626871074" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The back of the dress. The curls were way cuter before church. . .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlVO0KncU9mHq-E5652m98IbpJuGD8zJi3DvhLfcvDWwLUUlEQaf_d0RoKr-4ychyphenhyphenvubKVYw-RUnnio8cnMRwTburDiQjdDJ5uUrnCe3FP3FpLbffClDbthRChXOCfTOVZ7UPiRYJRBk/s1600-h/easter+ava1"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlVO0KncU9mHq-E5652m98IbpJuGD8zJi3DvhLfcvDWwLUUlEQaf_d0RoKr-4ychyphenhyphenvubKVYw-RUnnio8cnMRwTburDiQjdDJ5uUrnCe3FP3FpLbffClDbthRChXOCfTOVZ7UPiRYJRBk/s400/easter+ava1" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325441192960125602" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQkmtbjCBMFLVkh3zmzZfjMSbZnkR4U_QWcZblQEOfWbMVOaDs27WmKiK08vkhjUqiXzVNZhvtQNW3KAfTXBgoIqCF9KDOrkOdow_oVJ2ipQOZr8lmLu29FgTu2KDAqA1QOP6MtMaAAs/s1600-h/easter+ava"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQkmtbjCBMFLVkh3zmzZfjMSbZnkR4U_QWcZblQEOfWbMVOaDs27WmKiK08vkhjUqiXzVNZhvtQNW3KAfTXBgoIqCF9KDOrkOdow_oVJ2ipQOZr8lmLu29FgTu2KDAqA1QOP6MtMaAAs/s400/easter+ava" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325441186717862514" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And here she is.</div><div>All Easter pretty. Minus the blue sharpie marker down the right side of her face. Fresh from that morning--oh well, another goal, to shoot for.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ahSPrJPuhi-bAaGuOeaS5pBBloO72Dw7HOrHyurfs-R90flflV7lSqM04cZAx_hdifzK4R_bSFyx-rbGH2jt1j3B8ki-1wnpb0KG8exR4c_iI70OizZA5biy3SW9UjnSncgJ2GLI6WI/s1600-h/easter+ava.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ahSPrJPuhi-bAaGuOeaS5pBBloO72Dw7HOrHyurfs-R90flflV7lSqM04cZAx_hdifzK4R_bSFyx-rbGH2jt1j3B8ki-1wnpb0KG8exR4c_iI70OizZA5biy3SW9UjnSncgJ2GLI6WI/s400/easter+ava.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325441182644868018" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Ash was pretty over it my now--but still so yummy!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1z22I5Rm3n80oroKhkwyBDdhX-h75b0ra_oYi738e5tNPwlOLDyZHoOY3R6FFzvm5qAzeKZZNkZwBKfTCrfnAnVF4dAm7_xQ0E4fjbhtZsZbTk4vM2fIvQ6YgNHFMqX1zTmzhHNLSfc8/s1600-h/easter+ash1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1z22I5Rm3n80oroKhkwyBDdhX-h75b0ra_oYi738e5tNPwlOLDyZHoOY3R6FFzvm5qAzeKZZNkZwBKfTCrfnAnVF4dAm7_xQ0E4fjbhtZsZbTk4vM2fIvQ6YgNHFMqX1zTmzhHNLSfc8/s400/easter+ash1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325441177583288642" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And my potato. . .he has learned in his 7 short years that nothin makes mom happier than a great smile and cooperation during picture taking!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11uJid9kTsAqld0scoed_JweRzHvwydLDpv9pv9f1FpgRsXKO0yQxv5SM9sQx12Jw_5lw376HWLkQM5VUcQ_ODzXu0gNCcp8B_tLuG0NUvqmRsAqq2j9WHqwQmji8IuTFqOJhBwPSAjI/s1600-h/easter+ade.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi11uJid9kTsAqld0scoed_JweRzHvwydLDpv9pv9f1FpgRsXKO0yQxv5SM9sQx12Jw_5lw376HWLkQM5VUcQ_ODzXu0gNCcp8B_tLuG0NUvqmRsAqq2j9WHqwQmji8IuTFqOJhBwPSAjI/s400/easter+ade.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325441176634718306" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The family pic. Ade should fill Ash and Ava in on the tid bit of info explained above. </div><div><br /></div><div>Did I mention how bright the sun was that day--wowza, I should have bought pastel shades for everyone.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmS3GANSbCVNytXBPlLVROZjFQZ9NeTQWsBbnTtEuROtpL3uBhyvJ-EVYY1Bp8UMwysGHuSMY1vscOrsd0Ry1qyrHFryMiP7fOvwZ-j8NgaL0bWoM1oVoDzHQYpT3N_YhDzRcnXQMS2w/s1600-h/easter+fam.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmS3GANSbCVNytXBPlLVROZjFQZ9NeTQWsBbnTtEuROtpL3uBhyvJ-EVYY1Bp8UMwysGHuSMY1vscOrsd0Ry1qyrHFryMiP7fOvwZ-j8NgaL0bWoM1oVoDzHQYpT3N_YhDzRcnXQMS2w/s400/easter+fam.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325436620033158514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhG8yD-t6ECc1P6kI-_yU0XBR-Tz0pS8S35Vc81ZbzPIxhzT3yuTqKucloKVuWX4z4vlbSAR7BQzKT3_xRf9sL1gowVjc8VOcH5tIyduxRkHo7sKh8OMZpdD_GLkkwlscVUsaHAWlLhY/s1600-h/easter+kids.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhG8yD-t6ECc1P6kI-_yU0XBR-Tz0pS8S35Vc81ZbzPIxhzT3yuTqKucloKVuWX4z4vlbSAR7BQzKT3_xRf9sL1gowVjc8VOcH5tIyduxRkHo7sKh8OMZpdD_GLkkwlscVUsaHAWlLhY/s400/easter+kids.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325436613066860498" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Q's attempt to get the kids in good moods for the upcoming pics---just kidding.</div><div><br /></div><div>He really just likes to watch them stumble around and grass stain their new duds.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05cbkhcmaboPNV4QDDXtcnRRku8tuGgJw7xrC_60wVhjOGAUlboo-WrDWINiYHLbrigSLNGHOSUNmCINJT_HiGdfiOVcDqIKPiMYUx8qbdglpQ9HoeJtiiOGxMO1j16Jxt-fDhRe_sYo/s1600-h/easter+swing3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 326px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi05cbkhcmaboPNV4QDDXtcnRRku8tuGgJw7xrC_60wVhjOGAUlboo-WrDWINiYHLbrigSLNGHOSUNmCINJT_HiGdfiOVcDqIKPiMYUx8qbdglpQ9HoeJtiiOGxMO1j16Jxt-fDhRe_sYo/s400/easter+swing3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325436607633674610" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRACjISv6rp9HfVfxMOQzAKblKNeMT9-A56Pk_5AH4fHoR04QCtdc48KiHF0IW2QjNihd7Geas-D5t3AKUipU2nlCSn9JkQLweWr2fXRQkgp2l7mU6UCSK5gSYQNTGAbom24S6j5cXBKU/s1600-h/easter+swing2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 394px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRACjISv6rp9HfVfxMOQzAKblKNeMT9-A56Pk_5AH4fHoR04QCtdc48KiHF0IW2QjNihd7Geas-D5t3AKUipU2nlCSn9JkQLweWr2fXRQkgp2l7mU6UCSK5gSYQNTGAbom24S6j5cXBKU/s400/easter+swing2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325436605602654242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yy-5rdI6WLrrVQlwL1-HVax2iyvzy0sTZIt2d21vn5jerY_DeS55GCMjDpPqN55HVVwC58i6e_aUWfDGwPDD9yWwhwQxJbb2tN31GlhVSK6qlLixYrFvjP1WKqLWil16kAN6dOQ2zoQ/s1600-h/easter+swing1"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2yy-5rdI6WLrrVQlwL1-HVax2iyvzy0sTZIt2d21vn5jerY_DeS55GCMjDpPqN55HVVwC58i6e_aUWfDGwPDD9yWwhwQxJbb2tN31GlhVSK6qlLixYrFvjP1WKqLWil16kAN6dOQ2zoQ/s400/easter+swing1" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325436600358772098" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>After some family "quiet time." (My absolutely, positively, most favorite time of the entire week!!!) We headed to the back yard for a "hunt." The kids found the eggs they dyed as well as some plastic eggs with money and candy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzogjsg3anCW3RlVri5e-venrufK3QSFG_dD8uihHNfuVwgo1MFAFfKIDy26r2GqqbdCg8NpM_zRXG8Gil2G2bpky3Ab_5hxe2A1jn3oVDIZZOasr_wjK5-KPnp16z-8t9RSfjcnjyEhw/s1600-h/easter+egg+hunt5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzogjsg3anCW3RlVri5e-venrufK3QSFG_dD8uihHNfuVwgo1MFAFfKIDy26r2GqqbdCg8NpM_zRXG8Gil2G2bpky3Ab_5hxe2A1jn3oVDIZZOasr_wjK5-KPnp16z-8t9RSfjcnjyEhw/s400/easter+egg+hunt5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325435056772932914" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Ava was more into doing this than hunting for eggs. . .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRoSVymJf6WCGvWXMDYSHKNEkRNX1cAapbrIGNmFwLdeY67EqjpvQLxBI-Mzdf6cII6ZzENBzbz9RVnbUKmhH5RXulVBUaZ392xzCZstH2Jh3BP9mEsP_icdUIHSWJAvqpQu98nhQRRPw/s1600-h/easter+egg+hunt4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRoSVymJf6WCGvWXMDYSHKNEkRNX1cAapbrIGNmFwLdeY67EqjpvQLxBI-Mzdf6cII6ZzENBzbz9RVnbUKmhH5RXulVBUaZ392xzCZstH2Jh3BP9mEsP_icdUIHSWJAvqpQu98nhQRRPw/s400/easter+egg+hunt4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325435055382974802" /></a><br /></div><div>I especially love the outfit he put together.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9mOFaTva5xNYJH-BpUqo9eT5LcjaykMU-hbqCddi1BlqefTWUwrsMEvW-wLgVQCPJsunXDVMtafIQZf3GnNyDMoZb_FdfFvg3QiFbpHM7aPScZH73z9ykMGz2bi1YibAJH859BvnBnU/s1600-h/easter+egg+hunt3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN9mOFaTva5xNYJH-BpUqo9eT5LcjaykMU-hbqCddi1BlqefTWUwrsMEvW-wLgVQCPJsunXDVMtafIQZf3GnNyDMoZb_FdfFvg3QiFbpHM7aPScZH73z9ykMGz2bi1YibAJH859BvnBnU/s400/easter+egg+hunt3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325435052018430674" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Mr. intense. He is "so going to find all the eggs."</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPetZddcLsdJGdgMmbqqEYX931BTrIa-KSJfSxn1LQkGIRUABAASYezAA1x4hyphenhyphenWzxdXHyrzQdOZenMJx4DGFkRWRO2bRB3TvCGK3m4DJYwjmBGtiiLKKdYrBCvCmD0oB62wYt80AZ4oM/s1600-h/easter+egg+hunt2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPetZddcLsdJGdgMmbqqEYX931BTrIa-KSJfSxn1LQkGIRUABAASYezAA1x4hyphenhyphenWzxdXHyrzQdOZenMJx4DGFkRWRO2bRB3TvCGK3m4DJYwjmBGtiiLKKdYrBCvCmD0oB62wYt80AZ4oM/s400/easter+egg+hunt2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325435046084900114" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Good times, dudes, I sure love you!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-1L6Dziv34E3nw8iYLmlAQWSNBFXujEF1sFeDPb_8kGH5Pkt8yPw70OqTPbSCRtVp4EZngMxy_pgXIzVx19yXIelNqWfvJtJnutt1iXxzn0jbhDir8YrDjZp2Ls7INmJYgk5-c7hzBw/s1600-h/easter+egg+hunt1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-1L6Dziv34E3nw8iYLmlAQWSNBFXujEF1sFeDPb_8kGH5Pkt8yPw70OqTPbSCRtVp4EZngMxy_pgXIzVx19yXIelNqWfvJtJnutt1iXxzn0jbhDir8YrDjZp2Ls7INmJYgk5-c7hzBw/s400/easter+egg+hunt1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325435042093136850" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-31202386047524332422009-04-09T17:42:00.001-07:002009-04-09T21:50:02.160-07:00Dryin' up. . .<div>It was one week ago tonight that I nursed Ava to sleep for the last time. It was so sad. I was so torn. I knew it was time and I knew nursing was just comfort for her--the nutrition aspect was up about 6 months ago. And she was nursing ALL the time. Morning, mid-morning, nap time, wake-up from nap time, evening, and before bed. . .not to mention all the times in between when she would get hurt, was sad, or just plain bored and I was sitting on the couch.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the same time that is what made it so sad for me. I felt awful and selfish taking away her comfort. And I did NOT want to face the fact that my baby is growing up. I HATE IT. I'll say it again, I HATE IT. I hate my kids growing up. I just happens way too fast. (I am the kookoo mom who thinks that kids should starts school at around 8 and then just go half a day. It just seemed like with the boys that they quit nursing--then it was big toddler time and boom, preschool, now Aiden is going to be EIGHT and getting baptised this fall. I'm going to need some meds. . .</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, last Thursday night was brutal. You know that terrible, huge lump that develops in your throat and no amount of Diet Coke will dissolve it? Yep--me--lump--lots of Diet Coke. So when she fell asleep in my arms and she was not even "leisure nursing" anymore the floods started. Q was nice and tried to be comforting but I think he was really biting the inside of his cheek trying not to laugh. So I held her until one side of her head was covered in sweat from the nook of my arm and the other side was covered in her crazy mom's tears. Then off to bed for her and off to "second-guess-myself-land" for me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also think a lot of the sadness was due to the thought of not having a baby again. The whole "this is it" mentality. You know, one phase of your life ending--pretty cliche' but non-the-less sad. I realized Thursday night that, all together, I have nursed a baby of just a few months shy of SIX YEARS! ( I so deserve a boob job--or as I like to call it, a "breast RESTORATION" not, "augmentation.") </div><div><br /></div><div>The next morning I nursed her one last time when she woke up. But the morning routine is usually short and lacking the snuggle time--so much less traumatic for me. Ava was off to tease the boys and I was busy packing for my "no more ta-ta weekend." My friend, <a href="http://www.robynlonghurst.typepad.com">Robyn</a>, and I went to Utah for and photography class and some shopping (more on that later).</div><div><br /></div><div>So fast forward the weekend. Ava did great for Q, by the way. I got home Sunday afternoon with really sore huge boobies. Ava was asleep and I searched the medicine cabinet for something to take that would be really bad for Ava if she nursed. I thought this would help with the temptation--but alas, no toxins in the medicine cabinet. This is where a fresh import from South America would have come in handy--ohh well, no laws broken either. I was going to have to go on sheer will power--something I really suck at. (pardon the pun)</div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday night was sheer hell and torture. She was so tired and crying A LOT. She just kept pulling at my shirt and pointing at the couch. Q put her down and I took at Tylenol PM and went to bed with a whopping dose of guilt. Monday, is a day I would like to forget. We both cried. . .a lot. She was heartbroken and I felt like such a jerk. I don't think I sat down at all until she went down for a nap--yet another round of torture.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily it was a beautiful day so we spent most of it outside ("ouuuuusiiiiiii" in Ava speak) doing this. . .</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dq-DJNtoGtVSCpvv4u4eqAvo0VoY6TQ6IlGL8pLyAzbV-4te55RQxrZQVCKPVvOZVCS14wAUcpSTuB6rZzgwc2Aw21mhMHCM9oZrgA0uZGDjlaSPliyZATxJM1XoT_KGJWghQVIxAHs/s1600-h/ava+at+swing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dq-DJNtoGtVSCpvv4u4eqAvo0VoY6TQ6IlGL8pLyAzbV-4te55RQxrZQVCKPVvOZVCS14wAUcpSTuB6rZzgwc2Aw21mhMHCM9oZrgA0uZGDjlaSPliyZATxJM1XoT_KGJWghQVIxAHs/s400/ava+at+swing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322891951267675458" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>This little peanut LOVES to swing. And the higher, the better!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bjlHAy27sI6BdCK36u4R5UT64ZW5HaLn28L4sIaHdWeri_sbdPpu3ENOKaOqg2qjX122aLdcEmbwhtLsKOUrG42kknvupNJoo8srLcc8XE-NJZ2MgKGSPYm8x0tHB2gCjuE_IvlH06c/s1600-h/ava+swinging.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bjlHAy27sI6BdCK36u4R5UT64ZW5HaLn28L4sIaHdWeri_sbdPpu3ENOKaOqg2qjX122aLdcEmbwhtLsKOUrG42kknvupNJoo8srLcc8XE-NJZ2MgKGSPYm8x0tHB2gCjuE_IvlH06c/s400/ava+swinging.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322891946635689538" /></a>And, yes, she totally loves her shades. They may have been one of the many guilt gifts I picked up for her in Salt Lake. . .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdGEVI-jv8sk0IQkwHYEauayaG-do8T1Oj9_Y2v-jo13yy9FaZJ4O0kPWm3QMKVfzqExwggEmQnkMVeqGdIEKwZHWF5qRrQ-HPtIoXdyGDzT0TZOjUMm0kVbj8CgE0I0pOX3gf6Cbo9Q/s1600-h/ava+way+swinging.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghdGEVI-jv8sk0IQkwHYEauayaG-do8T1Oj9_Y2v-jo13yy9FaZJ4O0kPWm3QMKVfzqExwggEmQnkMVeqGdIEKwZHWF5qRrQ-HPtIoXdyGDzT0TZOjUMm0kVbj8CgE0I0pOX3gf6Cbo9Q/s400/ava+way+swinging.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322891944993775714" /></a>And, no, I'm pretty sure she could not be any cuter. . .</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We went cold turkey with Aiden, too. I went to Seattle for 3 days with Q, leaving Ade with my mom. I nearly got off the plane before it left Twin Falls--again, I was sooooo sad. But another nurse I worked with got on just then and sat by me. Whewww. But when we got home, Ade was very sad and dramatic. . ."Ta Ta NOOOO GONE!!" As he threw his head back in anguish. He pretty much ignored me the rest of that day with the exception of the occasional crusty from his dad's lap. But the next morning. . . all better and we were friends again. There was n mention of ta ta again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Back to Ava--</div><div><br /></div><div>So Monday night was aging pure H & T, again. But I was determined to figure out a way for the two of us to have some quality bed time together. The boys (especially Ash) loved to read before naps and night time. I knew this would, for sure, be a part of our routine. But I also wanted to incorporate some milk drinkage, too. She does not like cow's milk. So we were at the store and I picked up a little jug of strawberry milk--"look Ava, pink milk." She held it in the store so I was holding out hope. I warmed it up and went to get her from Q's lap. </div><div><br /></div><div>I said, "time for nigh nigh, Ava."</div><div><br /></div><div>She--covered her eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>"let's go nigh nigh"</div><div><br /></div><div>eyes covered.</div><div><br /></div><div>This went on multiple times until I foiled her plan and made her realize that even though I see could not see me I COULD still see her! HA.</div><div><br /></div><div>Warm pink milk. . .check</div><div>Woobie. . .check</div><div>Baby. . .check</div><div>Books. . .check</div><div><br /></div><div>She still cried and I went to bed thinking, "who cares if she comes home from Kindergarten to nurse and I am still fat-n-frumpy. . ." Hatin' it!</div><div><br /></div><div>Tuesday. . .sad, sad morning. I just walked around the house holding her. I'm pretty sure she had candy for breakfast--damn that guilt.</div><div><br /></div><div>But Tuesday at nap. . .breakthrough. . .we read her books, took a couple of tokes off the milk, and I turned her around (post reading) onto my shoulder--we rocked. And she did not try to "assume the position" or paw at me once! I put her in her bed with baby, woobie, and sippy and she cried pointing to the rocking chair. In a moment of inspiration I grabbed "Gossie and Gertie." She stopped crying and sat up in her crib. </div><div><br /></div><div>I left</div><div><br /></div><div>And returned 10 minutes later to find this. . .<br /><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsMS0S2mg7TNTy9_ivVEVp7-YZGfVBhKjjlbZQpZZLSp8sdYGT7XLCYpEG18cw-je-8Mglst-RfVV36UeLEwRY8ILDW-NC6EquY4Qr5tkSBNAcE5oYEZWLdqbYsIGuKf5PUUiqXlhlWs/s1600-h/ava+with+gossie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 326px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsMS0S2mg7TNTy9_ivVEVp7-YZGfVBhKjjlbZQpZZLSp8sdYGT7XLCYpEG18cw-je-8Mglst-RfVV36UeLEwRY8ILDW-NC6EquY4Qr5tkSBNAcE5oYEZWLdqbYsIGuKf5PUUiqXlhlWs/s400/ava+with+gossie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322886314521373346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!!!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So fast forward a few days and we have a routine!! She naps and goes to bed like a champ and we still get lots of snuggle time! Love it. Here are the "must haves."</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrnw8dWKSo-1I3GhGGgDTldALEO5citKVsNrtsLMfPJYJJzdm0GFcHcHq_YTrfi7nWDLd-P-h_p1A_XFe8ZzBaO9_9iV9zsBgG1WQzuEo0VWqSRh2VXTaMWILATP5OfwybIYPhf5ZGos/s1600-h/ava's+not+nursing+tools.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrnw8dWKSo-1I3GhGGgDTldALEO5citKVsNrtsLMfPJYJJzdm0GFcHcHq_YTrfi7nWDLd-P-h_p1A_XFe8ZzBaO9_9iV9zsBgG1WQzuEo0VWqSRh2VXTaMWILATP5OfwybIYPhf5ZGos/s400/ava's+not+nursing+tools.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322886311427614610" /></a>She loves her baby, squeezes her the whole time we are reading. And she lays her head on her "woobie" (another guilt gift--I was looking for something like this and Robyn's keen eye spotted it---sooooo soft and soooo cute--yummy pink and brown.) And of course these 2 books--I have read them 6 times each in the last 3 days. But I am so not complaining!</div><div><br /></div><div>"Gossie and Gertie" was one of Asher's most favorite books when he was tiny. He was such a dream child to 'wean.' He LOVED to read books before naps and bed. We stared with naps. We would read and rock then he would point to his bed when he was ready. Seriously. . .dreamy. Then we moved to reading before night time and he loved it, again pointing when he was ready. (Often times before I was ready to lay him down.) Although, the difference was Ash had a binkie in his mouth, one or two in each hand and others scattered about his crib. </div><div><br /></div><div>Soon I was down to just nursing Asher in the morning. Then after a few weeks of that Q and I went to Mexico for a week. My parents and Q's mom and sister stayed with the boys. We got home and there was no mention of "ta ta." EASY BREEZY! (getting off the binkie is a whole different story and an upcoming post.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Here are some yummy pics of the little turkey. . .<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyBU-3uiA_VhgOBzs9xpkAb4mPPl9WTGG6JWa4rbSm3DIOB5PzedHuIIiC9dtEIWFjjpiKgHlEG7rp5I4b9XU-_f53X0IcyWOAWAcWUmOchN1gAL8ER7AOYvTo1GqXmoHlUaimFLZ6Wc/s1600-h/ash+close+up+on+swing.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyBU-3uiA_VhgOBzs9xpkAb4mPPl9WTGG6JWa4rbSm3DIOB5PzedHuIIiC9dtEIWFjjpiKgHlEG7rp5I4b9XU-_f53X0IcyWOAWAcWUmOchN1gAL8ER7AOYvTo1GqXmoHlUaimFLZ6Wc/s400/ash+close+up+on+swing.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322858531124544546" /></a>I love his little personality--when the kiddo is grumpy there is no talking him down but when he is happy he is sooooo happy and animated. This shot depicts his delighted face as it often is. . .excited!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7iw6EAYOcAz2eLDMg4e2k3BqL4UcMmQ5iwGRxPt5E_PpS3poWk2tLLJC0JF0lv-hbyLJIBIPpGIBs-ufzO8HQdI7n_VlxyQ2M7uDcX2Fph5_g1gahgfaU4S_FWnOyKkkLj6Odv5900E/s1600-h/ash+swinging.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF7iw6EAYOcAz2eLDMg4e2k3BqL4UcMmQ5iwGRxPt5E_PpS3poWk2tLLJC0JF0lv-hbyLJIBIPpGIBs-ufzO8HQdI7n_VlxyQ2M7uDcX2Fph5_g1gahgfaU4S_FWnOyKkkLj6Odv5900E/s400/ash+swinging.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322858524488378962" /></a>Have a great day. I'm going to take more ibuprofen and tylenol PM as I try to ward off the mastitis deamons!</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-77830356942691175362009-03-30T12:48:00.000-07:002009-03-30T14:01:55.980-07:00NEEEENNNRRRRR NEEEENNNRRRR NEEEENNNNNRRRRR<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBBAW41UaL_hDwg955FczssHW5tVtRoDTRFf9kPZT-TtjdefsDZQR50uhQYz94uWwXj99TTNrccrK0J0AJgDbCUitV_CQfccp7KlownQSW2hWtgeaer2H_C4BZlcwCbODG6wNfUZeKmg/s1600-h/math.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;">I have sooooo much to blog about but this little event is going to get the moment now. Mostly because it is quick and easy and I have 5 minutes. . .but if I'm being honest it is really because the gratification is exuding from my pores and I need to get it down in text so I can "wipe this smirk off my face."</span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">So here is the 411. Last night Quinn and I were working with Aiden on his 50 in a minute. It is this math homework biz that Ade is struggling with a bit. Now he is up to subtraction to 10 and it is not coming as fast as he is used to---so he is frustrated.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">But enough about Ade, here is the real goods!! I challenged Q to a "math off." He just gave me this look--</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">--this "as if you even stand a chance, woman" look. The pompousness was oozing off his five-o-clock shadowed face.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Set the timer for one minute--and GO!!!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I was on fire. . .I was not focused on him at all--he is usually quite good at math.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">-but alas, the quickness fails him.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I soooooo wish I had a snapshot of his face (a hard copy to share, not just the one in my head) when I threw my arms in the air. . ."DONE!!!"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">He looked at me like I had 4 heads---his thoughts quickly turning to disbelief. Until the evidence was there.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Right there is black and white ( that Micheal Jackson song just popped into my head. . .ohhh)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">And right in front of his recently fallen face. . .yeaaaa baby!!!!!!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">So this first pic is after Aiden told on me and said, "dad, mom is totally going to blog about this." And Q smugly and sarcastically said, "why don't you take a picture and scrapbook it, baby." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I nearly peed my pants cause I was already on my third photo---so between snorts and kegals I told him to come in here. When he saw I was actually photographing the evidence he was "buggin hard." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I'll leave it up to you to guess which finger this is in the photograph.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBBAW41UaL_hDwg955FczssHW5tVtRoDTRFf9kPZT-TtjdefsDZQR50uhQYz94uWwXj99TTNrccrK0J0AJgDbCUitV_CQfccp7KlownQSW2hWtgeaer2H_C4BZlcwCbODG6wNfUZeKmg/s1600-h/math.jpg"><br /></a></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYBBAW41UaL_hDwg955FczssHW5tVtRoDTRFf9kPZT-TtjdefsDZQR50uhQYz94uWwXj99TTNrccrK0J0AJgDbCUitV_CQfccp7KlownQSW2hWtgeaer2H_C4BZlcwCbODG6wNfUZeKmg/s400/math.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319072116579666082" /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNz68XlkbTM2jvG30rWhCmSgg8hrwGcXuCkouEe00hE_rO4lN6qdba_j0xodOp1ILvYZC1D_lt0fyhAQJfjP9fvyRZCkhCrp36x-2eVda4ZuF52d0_RK8hVVg34OBOohx_HPfA82kaZDg/s1600-h/math+side+2.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;">This is a pic of round two--per his request after the first schooling. When he accepted his defeat and while he was trying to figure out how I cheated (cause, really, no way could I beat him THAT bad. . .) </span></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNz68XlkbTM2jvG30rWhCmSgg8hrwGcXuCkouEe00hE_rO4lN6qdba_j0xodOp1ILvYZC1D_lt0fyhAQJfjP9fvyRZCkhCrp36x-2eVda4ZuF52d0_RK8hVVg34OBOohx_HPfA82kaZDg/s1600-h/math+side+2.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNz68XlkbTM2jvG30rWhCmSgg8hrwGcXuCkouEe00hE_rO4lN6qdba_j0xodOp1ILvYZC1D_lt0fyhAQJfjP9fvyRZCkhCrp36x-2eVda4ZuF52d0_RK8hVVg34OBOohx_HPfA82kaZDg/s1600-h/math+side+2.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The results. . .got him by 5! But probably more like 7. By this time we had an audience and I was trying to demonstrate sportsmanship. So I finished, quietly, and planted this giant smugness on my face that only Mr. Q could interpret.</span></a><br /></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNz68XlkbTM2jvG30rWhCmSgg8hrwGcXuCkouEe00hE_rO4lN6qdba_j0xodOp1ILvYZC1D_lt0fyhAQJfjP9fvyRZCkhCrp36x-2eVda4ZuF52d0_RK8hVVg34OBOohx_HPfA82kaZDg/s400/math+side+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319070887107111746" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">And here is the "stunning" first round. . . a HUGE loss by EIGHT!!! </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4N0GFOvJnMU3bdryxOLlOI31RyRMrB9RqZ29-fSvyI6q7iaHJX16E3aZbR6l-E1AEfsqy8pEfN5PraFES05Smcv45YkoDiAI8bJmUm3F77_8uO00TBIHWNaE3UmNgMHTgvZKQhQ8ui4w/s1600-h/math+side+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4N0GFOvJnMU3bdryxOLlOI31RyRMrB9RqZ29-fSvyI6q7iaHJX16E3aZbR6l-E1AEfsqy8pEfN5PraFES05Smcv45YkoDiAI8bJmUm3F77_8uO00TBIHWNaE3UmNgMHTgvZKQhQ8ui4w/s400/math+side+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319070878551334642" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Now if I can just figure out how to spell---- neeenerrr, neeeneerrrr, neeeenrrrrr. . .</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I sure love you, honey, but never underestimate 'THE MOM.'<br /></span><br /></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-36961087308189779832009-03-12T14:11:00.000-07:002009-03-13T21:30:59.743-07:00SEVEN??? What the HELL--SEVEN!!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Uf-EUlK9W5dgD16kZdtVX4bT83piB4GjDzE6APTjRXxueNcPEv3IE_JWbUrRH8AxdIhEXMWx6Md-BkjjXdav6met05zeBbpp-K6Dtgy7Ux6tEek2el5Yb_PaMNT4p8St-j5N4UnMAeQ/s1600-h/boys+at+dentist.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;">So the boys had a dental appointment the other day. . .the first for Ash and, quite possibly the last for Ade. It actually worked out great to have them at the same time. Seeing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Aiden</span> sitting in the chair (not afraid) really helped put Ash at ease.</span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Uf-EUlK9W5dgD16kZdtVX4bT83piB4GjDzE6APTjRXxueNcPEv3IE_JWbUrRH8AxdIhEXMWx6Md-BkjjXdav6met05zeBbpp-K6Dtgy7Ux6tEek2el5Yb_PaMNT4p8St-j5N4UnMAeQ/s400/boys+at+dentist.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312526642197273666" /></a>The two ding dongs hanging out and waiting for the teeth cleaning fest. . .<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXuxe1JLwv32LZymH6zobzJ_eaCTGGYHEiHem5K2_Wych1YXswoulhkfIMIMQAGOMoQz3TIWmnyfiOuktDaqrOAj_YxoPITqPBsSHhO5YCPx2IQjsBZsC_noqr8i4Y8m_hZwDhV625cs/s1600-h/ash+in+dentist+chair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIXuxe1JLwv32LZymH6zobzJ_eaCTGGYHEiHem5K2_Wych1YXswoulhkfIMIMQAGOMoQz3TIWmnyfiOuktDaqrOAj_YxoPITqPBsSHhO5YCPx2IQjsBZsC_noqr8i4Y8m_hZwDhV625cs/s400/ash+in+dentist+chair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312526632060525170" /></a>Here is Asher---smiling--for now. . .</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTT9TH-DhdMvkYwmqOHz-qoHehRLgqrb4Jg6ww0DhlFXmR_TQZ1__C5OJbqKrDMXDPmU88gNIYGWlTGl7m5_a7lv5URLyiaaJoaxcGsQxq7rVdoQ6xUsZKAZJQTBIiFnB2tEfTFD1z3I/s1600-h/ash+scared.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTT9TH-DhdMvkYwmqOHz-qoHehRLgqrb4Jg6ww0DhlFXmR_TQZ1__C5OJbqKrDMXDPmU88gNIYGWlTGl7m5_a7lv5URLyiaaJoaxcGsQxq7rVdoQ6xUsZKAZJQTBIiFnB2tEfTFD1z3I/s400/ash+scared.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312525115463873666" /></a></div><div>But alas. . .it doesn't last long. He did NOT enjoy the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">scrapey</span> thing on his teeth. I don't blame him--I hate that sound/feeling. So the teary eyes started but he was trying really hard to be so brave. Love this little dude.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm pretty sure this next pic should be in an ad for a pediatric dentist. . .<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57nQQE9bdYhz_yxxleLp1j59AEIx-T4f6MXFvRWaOLYApzXTmi4EjQeZdabKVrcrxYs2N1vyW8gBv_Ne5P7ymiI9_UEufzw8vQyuv1kfoC5oZV2bqQO9QYSWZMXuW3_SVqdYLPLeBhAU/s1600-h/ash+scared+at+dentist.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57nQQE9bdYhz_yxxleLp1j59AEIx-T4f6MXFvRWaOLYApzXTmi4EjQeZdabKVrcrxYs2N1vyW8gBv_Ne5P7ymiI9_UEufzw8vQyuv1kfoC5oZV2bqQO9QYSWZMXuW3_SVqdYLPLeBhAU/s400/ash+scared+at+dentist.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312525114448503922" /></a>Poor little man-I saw that look in his eyes and I wanted to do the ole' scoop and run. But I've tried to squash the 'helicopter mom' mode in my psyche. </div><div><br /></div><div>He is holding on to his way-to-big-headphones trying so hard to focus on the cartoon playing above him.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKWFOY48-Mj0c56M2B5183c7jZAwm4aJIdmjifP8FamWfkHdgcv-y8OJfueJsYoTFePKVhO0etNH90wLYwzifflTTEKubVreMZ5MS2ttjRGlMnH1M7YLNo3stWUGE1sr4dPO2iAkvpOs/s1600-h/ash+lessening+gap.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCKWFOY48-Mj0c56M2B5183c7jZAwm4aJIdmjifP8FamWfkHdgcv-y8OJfueJsYoTFePKVhO0etNH90wLYwzifflTTEKubVreMZ5MS2ttjRGlMnH1M7YLNo3stWUGE1sr4dPO2iAkvpOs/s400/ash+lessening+gap.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312525107730732130" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Here is Ash after the cleaning and the exam by our friend and dentist, Damon. They are posing to show how much the "upper and lower teeth gap" that was caused by his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">binkie</span> is closing up. I'll have to find a comparison picture because it really is amazing how much that gap has closed up in the last 4 months. And I WILL be doing a post on that momentous 'giving up the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">binkie</span>' day. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Now, on to the what the hell part. . .<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">aarrrrgggg</span>!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"> </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmN9sOPwJz4jV7alGM9RfpOpreRM7StNgBI2gNvVZrpWi9KZ9iicgNSi-thf0CKEDqRSUP6hyN-HohSeuuWhPg9nFEz0rYH4pqnJNdqythL3TY6Q-o-ViRuVh7q6faCwaDSklBQCTO7AA/s1600-h/ade's+xray.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmN9sOPwJz4jV7alGM9RfpOpreRM7StNgBI2gNvVZrpWi9KZ9iicgNSi-thf0CKEDqRSUP6hyN-HohSeuuWhPg9nFEz0rYH4pqnJNdqythL3TY6Q-o-ViRuVh7q6faCwaDSklBQCTO7AA/s400/ade's+xray.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312417924283942626" /></a>All I have to say is it's a good thing that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Aiden</span> in smart--cause the above is a picture of this college education! The little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">hoser</span> has SEVEN, yes, S-E-V-E-N <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">cavities</span>. What the crap is that about. I just about stroked out when Damon was counting the "spots" on the X-ray!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess this a prime example of giving your oldest too much credit/responsibility. I need to be a better <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">nazi</span> of the teeth brushing ritual. Duh. . . The night is just so crazy and there is so much to get done. . .I just let him be in charge of his own brushing. Well, that is a thing of the past. I nearly made his gums bleed when I got out the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Brillo</span> pad to "brush" his teeth the night following the appointment.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqvtVnD5ZNCAPJIlZaMNshkMKIPGqHvLFfHmQauwnGpQyguGoufqajXGrq7cufWUcZxK7zYwjDl7cVXNRUiv3IG-yt_sIS30Wzbzl7UlugU-6JNRFgHjT5zNtgpc99YAyBVSiTXoMbOc/s1600-h/ade+laughing+gas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqvtVnD5ZNCAPJIlZaMNshkMKIPGqHvLFfHmQauwnGpQyguGoufqajXGrq7cufWUcZxK7zYwjDl7cVXNRUiv3IG-yt_sIS30Wzbzl7UlugU-6JNRFgHjT5zNtgpc99YAyBVSiTXoMbOc/s400/ade+laughing+gas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312417917346991794" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Enjoy that laughing gas, Ade, cause when your dad finds out--the laughing part will be OVER. Oh, speaking of. . . Q is such a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">softie</span>/big talker. When I gave Q the news his mouth gaped open then some explicits flew out. Followed by, "I'm going to take that game back," and "no new toys" and all sorts of what for. . . </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Big Talker Betty <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Crocker</span>. Here is how it really went, Q-- "Ade how many cavities did you have?" A-- "well, 6 now." (he got one filled today) and Q--"what's up with that dude?" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">ohhhhh</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">scarreeee</span> dad. So lame, why do I always have to be the heavy. . .whatever.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgF1d01TrxL2E1sVctDX8fgXqNyA2QI8qsco9OKrlekE55HkhyupzwtGkIBft-nyITMHJd09OYG4LQvolN94LZZs3dnS1lNp7hX0S9UQfBGaKlU7g-AmJBNR9Wm6WBS_zBe8Gr7d1XJj8/s1600-h/ade+in+chair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgF1d01TrxL2E1sVctDX8fgXqNyA2QI8qsco9OKrlekE55HkhyupzwtGkIBft-nyITMHJd09OYG4LQvolN94LZZs3dnS1lNp7hX0S9UQfBGaKlU7g-AmJBNR9Wm6WBS_zBe8Gr7d1XJj8/s400/ade+in+chair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312417913258283522" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">I can almost detect a little smirk on that little punk's face--maybe he is just laughing at the cartoon playing above. He'll think funny when he goes back TWO more times for the rest of the fillings. I need to tell Damon not to be so good when giving the numbing shot--Ade barely felt it. I think a good dose on pinch/sting will carry a lot of mileage when it comes time to brush teeth! Ya, go ahead, call C.P.S. maybe the good people of the State of Idaho can pick up his dental bill!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Peace out!</span></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-66237953701280372182009-03-11T20:58:00.001-07:002009-03-11T21:39:45.049-07:00A Good Day. . .<div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">Yep, a pretty good day today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Q and I have made a pact to really, really hard to get scriptures and prayer in EVERY night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We decided that we were waiting till it got to late and by 9:00 we were ready to go postal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“Forget scriptures---just get those little hosers in bed---argggg.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Every parent can feel our pain at the end of a long day, eh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">Anyway, we decided the key is to start earlier—get it done before we are teetering on the edge!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’ve done really good the past few nights-hooray for salvation.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">My second big goal is to read to each of the kiddos (one on one) at least 15 minutes a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Do the math, that is 45 minutes of reading kid books—what the!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But today—success, thanks to a dentist appointment (more on that tomorrow).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">When I got home from the gym this afternoon/evening I turned in to Nazi screen mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>“NO COMPUTERS, NO T.V., NO VIDEO GAMES---NOTHING WITH A SCREEN.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I told the kids we were done with all things screen for the evening!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They griped a bit but then I gave them jobs to help me with dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was totally worth a few egg shells in the waffle mix!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">So we had dinner—all together, cleaned up, read scriptures & prayer, played a little Spongebob Connect Four, did baths/jammies/teeth/breathing treatments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Aiden and Q read one more book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then the boys got 10 minutes watching dad and his ultra cool computer game (NOT).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">--someone, please explain the whole boys & video game thing. . .I totally do NOT get it!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">And at last, 3 kiddos---fed, read, prayed, played, cleaned, brushed, loved, and NIGHT NIGHT!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Time check. . .9:06.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>V-I-C-T-O-R-Y!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Bookman Old Style"">And just as the proverbial cherry. . .I even remembered the freakin’ children’s vitamins!!!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GfVIoZTdKgL5e5haQtT1IHy9jw-iEI40RYqssZ3vrNeSAMb39X4HCXtOyh4C5aOsNhFTwaVh62HTzBpQYNqyl75WfBqXADa6dX3h3rkJIylSgKUP_T_RYRn4hyphenhyphen7HKeGIw3HDQlvXz3w/s1600-h/spongebob.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GfVIoZTdKgL5e5haQtT1IHy9jw-iEI40RYqssZ3vrNeSAMb39X4HCXtOyh4C5aOsNhFTwaVh62HTzBpQYNqyl75WfBqXADa6dX3h3rkJIylSgKUP_T_RYRn4hyphenhyphen7HKeGIw3HDQlvXz3w/s400/spongebob.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312154702754994002" /></a>And since I was way too wrapped up in "keeping the peace." Which included--keeping Ash (on dad's team) feeling like he was in charge and doing awesome, and keeping Ade (on my team) stimulated and thinking of our next move, and keeping Ava--awake and NOT suckleing.<div><br /></div><div>--yep, I forgot to snap a pic, until Ade and I were cleaning up and the little kiddos were in the bath. . .alas there has got to be ONE hitch.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hope your day is great!</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-636230190524035882009-03-08T23:25:00.001-07:002009-03-09T03:54:22.535-07:00Kindercup!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-GrKYub9f1eWcrQi_nRYjEErxGlQJHLrgx2yyngMt9DZoYc3lLQ_zs_8qmKUQxCrwfBK6MLQB1Cs_RjJj6oB2YZHfVLVM9MFVkV8q6P_Xq3U_jkmSfJzLSuUSDL6T7CeHCwod9Q8VOI/s1600-h/up+and+away.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;">Last weekend we busted over to Sun Valley for the annual Kindercup!! It is such a cool little race over on Dollar Mountain. Aiden loves is so we made a day trip of it. Jenn's kids were really sick that weekend so instead of a three day trip the kids and I got up at the "cracka" on Saturday morning and had a fun day on the mountain. Quinn had gone over on Thursday night so he could get some "freshies" on the big mountain Friday. I know, I'm a total rock star wife--I'm just making my little deposits on the Audi A6 coming my way when we have outgrown car seats!!</span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Anyway, on to the pics!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-GrKYub9f1eWcrQi_nRYjEErxGlQJHLrgx2yyngMt9DZoYc3lLQ_zs_8qmKUQxCrwfBK6MLQB1Cs_RjJj6oB2YZHfVLVM9MFVkV8q6P_Xq3U_jkmSfJzLSuUSDL6T7CeHCwod9Q8VOI/s1600-h/up+and+away.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"></span><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 283px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju-GrKYub9f1eWcrQi_nRYjEErxGlQJHLrgx2yyngMt9DZoYc3lLQ_zs_8qmKUQxCrwfBK6MLQB1Cs_RjJj6oB2YZHfVLVM9MFVkV8q6P_Xq3U_jkmSfJzLSuUSDL6T7CeHCwod9Q8VOI/s400/up+and+away.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311086584569364754" /></a>Here are my three boys cruising up the chair lift. It makes me throw up in my mouth to think that my little baby Ash is big enough to do this and start hangin' with the "two older boys." </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPG5VzhtTZ5QvViWm2nWbB9lWUiKjOv5yKmwSGMwsgwDR2NfuvCSlfIWIAXLT1qjHGiYIcqdqWrFORb1VOoOJPYKE-u6B_GOcxP5KvpxEelHRqbuhYkhvMHLrWzW_1STdKYKKfWVPtdgg/s1600-h/boys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPG5VzhtTZ5QvViWm2nWbB9lWUiKjOv5yKmwSGMwsgwDR2NfuvCSlfIWIAXLT1qjHGiYIcqdqWrFORb1VOoOJPYKE-u6B_GOcxP5KvpxEelHRqbuhYkhvMHLrWzW_1STdKYKKfWVPtdgg/s400/boys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311086573873280786" /></a>I have these three trained. . .there will be no fun or goofing around till mom gets a great photo--so smile and wave!! OH, and Ade got some poles, this is the maiden voyage with the new sticks. He was thinking he was pretty cool stuff with those bad boys.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSqH-eQlb8EOkDefQhCeZuidVJ2wbvH9S07zXFHN6QlOtSMNLDxcCjFhOGTdlA3aFsA1q7WXPWrkyvDO86U6emdtI98JM9t6WPyF_FU1KySg8xL-vnvNZ1hpKl77oH_ctYE0OyYVVtJA/s1600-h/sweet+pea.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSqH-eQlb8EOkDefQhCeZuidVJ2wbvH9S07zXFHN6QlOtSMNLDxcCjFhOGTdlA3aFsA1q7WXPWrkyvDO86U6emdtI98JM9t6WPyF_FU1KySg8xL-vnvNZ1hpKl77oH_ctYE0OyYVVtJA/s400/sweet+pea.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311086565793655762" /></a>Now, check out this little thing of beauty. . .can you even stand how yummy she is!!! It looks like her cheeks are a bit red from the cold. . .but alas, it is just from me nibbling too much---I mean really, how do you see that face and NOT take a little nibble and smooch on it???</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeGZ_G7HGiorT7Yy61ba-FcnMPNEpKXLJaQNrwxd6uBbWdC0hS7ZkGA5OpDcO5O-kHNWn7QDhi1yR5S1cy0lL8m0DgNofV89WQQQuzlFrb9lhtJPeL_y5nSjadQ9pFpbaKAeP34kw1a9A/s1600-h/sleepy+ava.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeGZ_G7HGiorT7Yy61ba-FcnMPNEpKXLJaQNrwxd6uBbWdC0hS7ZkGA5OpDcO5O-kHNWn7QDhi1yR5S1cy0lL8m0DgNofV89WQQQuzlFrb9lhtJPeL_y5nSjadQ9pFpbaKAeP34kw1a9A/s400/sleepy+ava.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311086557891612482" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">This is where the little peanut hung out for most of the day--about 4 hours. I wonder why my back was on fire that night, hmmmm. I'm thinking she gained about 20 pounds in that small amount time. But it was helpful to not have to worry about where she was running off to!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD_qPMXmajPw2jOqdQb_3Kf8i1-oGYbhbA3XC27r1zSgh8VUC9TLqcgNP389s8_T5nj6Bo4y7-6epUfn5FP2M2JT3krbfHUBSVGZ5cUgHtspAMKo0JGnf4CsQTFmu8BpT98scwWsp628/s1600-h/ash+shreading.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeD_qPMXmajPw2jOqdQb_3Kf8i1-oGYbhbA3XC27r1zSgh8VUC9TLqcgNP389s8_T5nj6Bo4y7-6epUfn5FP2M2JT3krbfHUBSVGZ5cUgHtspAMKo0JGnf4CsQTFmu8BpT98scwWsp628/s400/ash+shreading.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311072511971349794" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">So when Aiden and Quinn were up on the bigger area of the mountain getting ready for the race Ash was dying. He wanted to "shred" soooooo bad. I wasn't sure how far he progressed with Quinn last time so I told him I could help him with his skies but I couldn't go up with him. . ."dats okay, mom, I can todeally do it." Alright buddy, let's get those skies on. Another easy thing to do with a 25 pound sleeping baby strapped to your back. Two herniated disks later he had those skies on and was ready to rip!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wg82O-jyOsKNaeU7c0Zh5LnYhX6VGudmArtenaF_0JapxadzshcqpTlSq1ZgxAog0gCKaBe_rBcWbecuBZThHBM8xFSy7r8OgPYTovcJqTrDDVHVsejMN7X8HDQDn4LlWU8HXikEuyc/s1600-h/ash.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wg82O-jyOsKNaeU7c0Zh5LnYhX6VGudmArtenaF_0JapxadzshcqpTlSq1ZgxAog0gCKaBe_rBcWbecuBZThHBM8xFSy7r8OgPYTovcJqTrDDVHVsejMN7X8HDQDn4LlWU8HXikEuyc/s400/ash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311072508656187650" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">What a little stud--all by himself and no fear! I found out later (via Quinn) that he can't go down by himself. Hmmmm, well, he can now!! It was awesome. He was doing little turns and "shredding" away. He got down and told me he wanted to "shred again, mom."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfbguQfq9JgxK1uhxeJmsuJxLWBcmEbSK3m2EYM94jLRImoseTFDdREkcMtHXOSD0e1Ekr1HtTJjRmykFIBr_T3UHxsfglL8TjV8TgeU7klikXkhENzSKtQNoOIWA6_kJqB7Y0h05joOM/s1600-h/aiden.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfbguQfq9JgxK1uhxeJmsuJxLWBcmEbSK3m2EYM94jLRImoseTFDdREkcMtHXOSD0e1Ekr1HtTJjRmykFIBr_T3UHxsfglL8TjV8TgeU7klikXkhENzSKtQNoOIWA6_kJqB7Y0h05joOM/s400/aiden.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311072504504404418" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Here is the little racer! This picture was taken after the race. . .he had slowed down right before the exit gates cause he "wanted to spray" the people giving out the little awards. Little ding bat-- I think his final time was about 43 seconds. You go dude.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3L9cM4DLaJA05k5QDoTrLpW0qNctcS6upLGhhiy8Wc7LpLh7t826oezf8LVKpyUviN9FTG4R-Jt6-loEOH1SZTIxZNzKv8tQf-9Spm4Gbxv23lyzOFAjOtWLuhVH27PeAxHCsy301t8/s1600-h/kindercup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3L9cM4DLaJA05k5QDoTrLpW0qNctcS6upLGhhiy8Wc7LpLh7t826oezf8LVKpyUviN9FTG4R-Jt6-loEOH1SZTIxZNzKv8tQf-9Spm4Gbxv23lyzOFAjOtWLuhVH27PeAxHCsy301t8/s400/kindercup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311072495604796786" /></a>And here is the little man blowing around those gates--sweet form!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhvhWS3Fid8jG_wuPNPhBdeq4vert102phJnszKEamKrBagxe_Nyb59PJueal5NHc5b7YO0yQhwcu1tGNhZTI94wuGAtDR662oh2ardZXA7w8_6ZUAxAC1ZB1XYSuW43SRZxQYxJLgmiI/s1600-h/and+we%27re+done.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhvhWS3Fid8jG_wuPNPhBdeq4vert102phJnszKEamKrBagxe_Nyb59PJueal5NHc5b7YO0yQhwcu1tGNhZTI94wuGAtDR662oh2ardZXA7w8_6ZUAxAC1ZB1XYSuW43SRZxQYxJLgmiI/s400/and+we%27re+done.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311072484826470722" /></a>And here are the little ding dongs about 2 minutes into the drive home. Do ya think they may have been a bit tired. . . It was a pretty fun day, even though four hours were spent in the car!<br /><br /></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-80651421221201127952009-03-05T16:00:00.000-08:002009-03-05T16:12:21.392-08:00Some Chinese snake confidence and a sweet hairdo. . .<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENQbO0kwyKHDTIbLQLBbdKjH27kQCFygKOmHqxQsAJW4jDXvLpxoiUAtZq_CFovM-TRJBZPxkQSHfaEGQqnzp69sxNFUNoxNr-OtskrJhA86yFiOcHxFj1U3GLTOlMKwNuHac7TTBGRY/s1600-h/sweethair.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;">So here is our oldest--Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Aiden</span>. And here is how he has been coming home from school nearly everyday this winter!</span></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENQbO0kwyKHDTIbLQLBbdKjH27kQCFygKOmHqxQsAJW4jDXvLpxoiUAtZq_CFovM-TRJBZPxkQSHfaEGQqnzp69sxNFUNoxNr-OtskrJhA86yFiOcHxFj1U3GLTOlMKwNuHac7TTBGRY/s1600-h/sweethair.jpg"><br /></a></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENQbO0kwyKHDTIbLQLBbdKjH27kQCFygKOmHqxQsAJW4jDXvLpxoiUAtZq_CFovM-TRJBZPxkQSHfaEGQqnzp69sxNFUNoxNr-OtskrJhA86yFiOcHxFj1U3GLTOlMKwNuHac7TTBGRY/s400/sweethair.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309292968396260994" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;">Is that a sweet hairdo or what?? Well, at least I know he is wearing his hat at recess. Looking a little ghetto but at least we have warded of the ear infections. Oh, another thing about 'the hair'. . .Ade has decided to "grow it out." Yep, he is going for the skater dude look--long and shaggy. It is driving his dad crazy and I think it is endearing. (but really, almost everything this little 7 year old does I think is endearing.) Quinn says, "it looks like we can't afford a freaking hair cut for our kid--just take him in for a little trim." My response, "have you seen the housing market. ."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_SYVqjfpBQroh07_2aPYclyOuAAvcqr_z7YQoRVX8eKr9gSn9EYN-dfpyIuQI7Dbh4UAQJHjqTVKfmfO7lyh6S6meKrZ9vW8EDH-tYpwGdquL_twFUapw5nm_v00eiq0W4aJ-y0xBDY/s1600-h/year+of+snake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW_SYVqjfpBQroh07_2aPYclyOuAAvcqr_z7YQoRVX8eKr9gSn9EYN-dfpyIuQI7Dbh4UAQJHjqTVKfmfO7lyh6S6meKrZ9vW8EDH-tYpwGdquL_twFUapw5nm_v00eiq0W4aJ-y0xBDY/s400/year+of+snake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309292965747276322" /></a>Okay on to the confidence thing. Last month in the first grade they studied the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Chinese</span> New Year and Ade was obsessed with finding out which animal each of us were, including grand parents. One night while looking at the calender he made (above and below) I was reading all the thing about the snake-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Aiden's</span> animal. After reading it I snickered a bit and Ade's reply was, "but mom, ALL those things are true and he said it so matter-of-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">factly</span>, that's what made us laugh. Quinn just gave me that raised eyebrow expression to which I replied--"he's your son."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDXzl0LCqq8detTwqFL5-Noe2B7BNZmkHI1DFd6uFUg8Jmkr0LhmtDi2r1X3KiC0pJq_ZhKLKnPkkIyNAa3mI2E2Vsg7XF-KopgpDC1dmq_6-CFHBvLvshCHsUOdb11CQtvjSzf7OT4I/s1600-h/newyear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvDXzl0LCqq8detTwqFL5-Noe2B7BNZmkHI1DFd6uFUg8Jmkr0LhmtDi2r1X3KiC0pJq_ZhKLKnPkkIyNAa3mI2E2Vsg7XF-KopgpDC1dmq_6-CFHBvLvshCHsUOdb11CQtvjSzf7OT4I/s400/newyear.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309292961781511874" /></a>And here is the one whom "possesses such great wisdom" (that part he gets from his mom) working on his homework. I do have to say, I hope all my kids tackle homework like this little dude does. For the most part, he comes home from school and pull it right out. I rarely have to remind him to get it done. Yea--I don't think I could handle one more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">bargaining</span> session.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNdf11T964E5p_0ba8q9RtPFTNYYKOxhW2ewgFGhQH11Rq5kjzJ-1YuomgTWaEyWsp0yAnrDn1PqUD64Xoswx8AYMiDEq39fUOFY_lBy7FY78vT8ulGTi6Zefz_nz2BSiqKOxQBZG4v4/s1600-h/aidehomework.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNdf11T964E5p_0ba8q9RtPFTNYYKOxhW2ewgFGhQH11Rq5kjzJ-1YuomgTWaEyWsp0yAnrDn1PqUD64Xoswx8AYMiDEq39fUOFY_lBy7FY78vT8ulGTi6Zefz_nz2BSiqKOxQBZG4v4/s400/aidehomework.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309292955717084290" /></a></div><div>We love you so much, Ade, hairdo, snake-like confidence and all!<br /><br /></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-26316087658859222342009-03-02T14:53:00.000-08:002009-03-04T03:14:59.456-08:00Round two. . ding ding<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjmu0MPdSwwaBxRGpKsSBmVAjvGE7Uy1Vv3WswQGfKCulav_GIx91KM9pc_VDJ55C_SxJ2rgGuf7gcV0O75rsftMTGLE0iCJE4wanz5bqhHf4v4_sxT0bFNFIiYjxCs1mrQlJOqfO9dc/s1600-h/avapen1.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Look at this ding-a-ling. This is a response to her frustration that I am refusing to de-robe her!</span></span><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 377px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBjmu0MPdSwwaBxRGpKsSBmVAjvGE7Uy1Vv3WswQGfKCulav_GIx91KM9pc_VDJ55C_SxJ2rgGuf7gcV0O75rsftMTGLE0iCJE4wanz5bqhHf4v4_sxT0bFNFIiYjxCs1mrQlJOqfO9dc/s400/avapen1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309283983271441298" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">She was thinking a piece of artwork to her face just might sway me to let her run nakie again. . .but alas, she is sorely mistaken. Or not, so I probably let her cruise shortly after these pictures were taken and yep, she did it--peed. But the fascinating part ( and I cannot get the blasted picture to load) is that she peed in her bumbo seat. Soooo funny, so yes, it was a fluke, I am sure. But none the less, she peed in a contained area that minimally resembles a potty. The best part is that it was contained! </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Some day when I can get the photo to work I will load it--maybe only I will think it is funny--. So if anyone can help me figure out why stupid blogger keeps underlining my text I would really appreciate it. . .arrggg.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ED2AVYwqsEHrTvwciM1HjFdwrbKzvuy7FvBzHENb57bfeP_I2M79ZpfCcCvIFMRgHD6o4OLuX6xmL2pORRmFHAIqnv0DfRMXIHIok1gEg2jUISXHaacud8wkSJ8PNw1RaLnbWrM8rPY/s1600-h/ava.penjpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 351px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ED2AVYwqsEHrTvwciM1HjFdwrbKzvuy7FvBzHENb57bfeP_I2M79ZpfCcCvIFMRgHD6o4OLuX6xmL2pORRmFHAIqnv0DfRMXIHIok1gEg2jUISXHaacud8wkSJ8PNw1RaLnbWrM8rPY/s400/ava.penjpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309283975343156882" /></a>Have a great day!</div><div>c</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-47863632022891395982009-02-23T01:04:00.001-08:002009-02-25T22:42:02.875-08:00Should I be worried ???<div> So check out this ding-a-ling. Every morning is the same. Around 10:00 she comes to me--<br /></div><div>Ava: " uhh uhh uhh" as she tugs at her zipper on her jammies.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: "Hi sissy, you want your jammies off?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava: "ahhhhhhhhh" (growl like sounding, with a little panting and lots of slobber.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Me obliging and stripping off the princess jams, onsie, and dipe.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ava sooooooo happy, running around neked! (hey, when you are white trash with a white trash kids you gotta use the word, "neked!"</div><div><br /></div><div>So here is a accurate representation of what I see a few minutes later. . </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviWBQ1T6KwcxF6bybLgMt2vgMeLfurCcAppGN9PGPtqxA5gPm90CXPWgXwrph0JxLs-jaF-zMaZtKkCKl0tW3vUexZpwCBnMUo6xDgDcCwpfQWgx6zRh3SS6NJr3vDGlayEw5-3aUD1g/s1600-h/dingaling.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 400px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjviWBQ1T6KwcxF6bybLgMt2vgMeLfurCcAppGN9PGPtqxA5gPm90CXPWgXwrph0JxLs-jaF-zMaZtKkCKl0tW3vUexZpwCBnMUo6xDgDcCwpfQWgx6zRh3SS6NJr3vDGlayEw5-3aUD1g/s400/dingaling.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306851874773662178" /></a>Yep, that's a sock on her hand, a tee-shirt around her bum via the neck, and shoes--wrong foot, of course. By the way, Ava now says, "Maaammaaaa" "Daaaadeee" "Atch" (Asher) and "Shouuutch." Yet, another potential concern--her obsession with shoes---that's a whole other post!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIGVY-Be4FraNcs4AW144Co3SouUanc6c4W5llibHRc6_CFRLUUjeYHKvVtAwoWMNx9GZoEK6e4J4U1EaZJ8rrw4dEfu1Vh6pZn3Erir8PDhPXr1JYyg63J2n6cIWr9ftC03c8eaj5TM/s1600-h/dingaling4"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIGVY-Be4FraNcs4AW144Co3SouUanc6c4W5llibHRc6_CFRLUUjeYHKvVtAwoWMNx9GZoEK6e4J4U1EaZJ8rrw4dEfu1Vh6pZn3Erir8PDhPXr1JYyg63J2n6cIWr9ftC03c8eaj5TM/s400/dingaling4" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306843245824435378" /></a>Couldn't you just nibble on those knees~<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_6UzuriEwxgS3HOJ17XQpWs3rK12lCqrvBmUP-QEP7d1-ZnReHKK8PgkQLY_WoTekKgDiKwBKisQx2d8DGykvdb2GkaqOb6CnFPmkRK4l2QeWw1mebkC074Mqj3mAkMfyA1jUYChKCw/s1600-h/dingaling3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ_6UzuriEwxgS3HOJ17XQpWs3rK12lCqrvBmUP-QEP7d1-ZnReHKK8PgkQLY_WoTekKgDiKwBKisQx2d8DGykvdb2GkaqOb6CnFPmkRK4l2QeWw1mebkC074Mqj3mAkMfyA1jUYChKCw/s400/dingaling3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306843230597771074" /></a></div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sXHkr9JAB1dgk7dbuNXBS2Z-u1hqP_gwxW1_C8WCCKQH41ZDV11g7cVAVKsN_RGteDmRdpjuvMrHF9X1l-9SmkCMcXa2azc7d8htYt38s7Dw0ah-puNyt3DO19ZrOBTaFI_rcqEwTM8/s1600-h/dingaling2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sXHkr9JAB1dgk7dbuNXBS2Z-u1hqP_gwxW1_C8WCCKQH41ZDV11g7cVAVKsN_RGteDmRdpjuvMrHF9X1l-9SmkCMcXa2azc7d8htYt38s7Dw0ah-puNyt3DO19ZrOBTaFI_rcqEwTM8/s400/dingaling2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306843216364710050" /></a></div><div>There is a pic of my brother, Norm, making this same face--I can't believe how much she looks like him.<br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8g3SiDZU4r6TpCEbBmRjrjX3UV0i4nf4u9kp0H2qgQTiMjML9_BcmeervtBBNnz2XqFjIT3FnQ82EEEaWxmFP89wchqqD5VDoL9f29ozZcSaJf1Gl71qdqjPR_F0PqzjEnejlZsmpl6g/s1600-h/dingaling1"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8g3SiDZU4r6TpCEbBmRjrjX3UV0i4nf4u9kp0H2qgQTiMjML9_BcmeervtBBNnz2XqFjIT3FnQ82EEEaWxmFP89wchqqD5VDoL9f29ozZcSaJf1Gl71qdqjPR_F0PqzjEnejlZsmpl6g/s400/dingaling1" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306843195403741842" /></a></div><div>And the "frombe" shot. She is even sooo cute "from behind." the white part of the tee you are seeing in the dead center of her hinee is the sleeve of the shirt. So, again, I pose the question. . .should I be worried!</div><div><br /></div><div>Have a great day!<br /><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-40839895229361033402009-02-18T12:53:00.000-08:002009-02-18T22:25:25.029-08:001.) Honoring President's Day and 2.) a little about my dingbat kiddos. . .<span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QWuKLMbgDRn5k-tuTGmkw8VJrhcBjbac9dUU9l1VqSpOlxzMMdFUROYgjTa361Af4ODobnQreOyFefZRe8u1kdtaeD__UNk6yEKxUC-ad1tmigcgAQvrC7F_axrv0ZdyjtPxD3hyFSI/s1600-h/pantry1.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So in honor of President's Day I decided to do an object lesson to prepare my family for our emminent socialized society.</span></a></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:18px;">Here is how it is going to go. . .Quinn makes the money that buys all the food. BUT I dictate where that food belongs. And I am probably going to spend a ton of that money Quinn makes on cool new organizational methods for our food storage. Again, he gets no say--he just earns the money and does what I say in "stimulating the food consumption." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:18px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:18px;">So here is how the process turned out. . .</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:18px;"><br /></span><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QWuKLMbgDRn5k-tuTGmkw8VJrhcBjbac9dUU9l1VqSpOlxzMMdFUROYgjTa361Af4ODobnQreOyFefZRe8u1kdtaeD__UNk6yEKxUC-ad1tmigcgAQvrC7F_axrv0ZdyjtPxD3hyFSI/s400/pantry1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304333421287553634" />The pantry--an ode to my BFF, <a href="www.theparkesspace.blogspot.com">Tana</a>. "Everything has a designated place and when that place is full--no more." Thanks T.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibh1-BzrkenUvFPzeEsnkAT0CaWOowodkjizizPYZQDiuR-dVPeMIW_9DUeSSrToA-RelPZAQEslNK8JmoeVQwxl-kA4pLMu7wRNZ4a2XL86CbiJXWGq5rYJtgeclGBTLg3vLNhuu7URw/s1600-h/pantry.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibh1-BzrkenUvFPzeEsnkAT0CaWOowodkjizizPYZQDiuR-dVPeMIW_9DUeSSrToA-RelPZAQEslNK8JmoeVQwxl-kA4pLMu7wRNZ4a2XL86CbiJXWGq5rYJtgeclGBTLg3vLNhuu7URw/s400/pantry.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304333414613894082" /></a>Here is the fridge. I was also going to use this socialism project to also help teach Ash how to read! HUhh! Two birds, baby! Cause don't think for a second that ALL the areas in the fridge and freezer aren't totally labeled (just like the pantry).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xgeJmVes1DoaoN0odx6FJkoNRYXzlyGEvB4QDGNVR02xLEPBW_cMplPRS4qEEr8KEoLrLpqqjZsgpyoqXfoi-eBR30e91wcP3w3n10FxN7KQc2LBK7l1Xxp5GcwZzEVwaz_AlJe5q9Q/s1600-h/fridge1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_xgeJmVes1DoaoN0odx6FJkoNRYXzlyGEvB4QDGNVR02xLEPBW_cMplPRS4qEEr8KEoLrLpqqjZsgpyoqXfoi-eBR30e91wcP3w3n10FxN7KQc2LBK7l1Xxp5GcwZzEVwaz_AlJe5q9Q/s400/fridge1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304330226920937474" /></a>Do you think it will last? Ya, me neither. . .but what's life without trying. I will say that if feels great to just open up the fridge and take a gander. And even if we do stay a democratic society (not a chance in hell) I will be ready for MTV cribs to come on over!</div><div><br /></div><div>I was also going to post some pics of our "chore chart" for my friend,<a href="http://www.ourcrazyride.blogspot.com"> Jenn</a>. But it looks a bit one sided. Aiden is usually really good about doing his daily jobs but Asher, not so much. Ash, is content to just hang out and not worry too much about 'saving for toys.' </div><div><br /></div><div>So I was thinking, yet again another prep opportunity. Aiden will continue doing his jobs and earning his fat allowance and Ash will just hang out, earning nada. But when it comes time for the Target toy run and just tell Aiden he has to give Ash a big ole' chunk of his allowance. Perfect! Aiden will learn the genius behind "spreading it around" and Ash will learn the lack of necessity of having a work ethic. My kids are going to be so prepared for adulthood in this country!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCm_4nl_k5G3xilBFhKMHJeNK83-kPzFPTK38ksBfipVnKhKnVtb97N3pXmccpjX4_Daf72yijpBFHStgYqgJ4eo1CJw7a-1pVdTZnq8LMPp_atAxLB6scQQpFSME8nI4hL1UEeyKvJg/s1600-h/fridge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCm_4nl_k5G3xilBFhKMHJeNK83-kPzFPTK38ksBfipVnKhKnVtb97N3pXmccpjX4_Daf72yijpBFHStgYqgJ4eo1CJw7a-1pVdTZnq8LMPp_atAxLB6scQQpFSME8nI4hL1UEeyKvJg/s400/fridge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304330219239698706" /></a>Okay, a bit about my little dingbat kiddos. .. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here is little Ava in her wife beater. . . and shoes, of course! This little peanut insists on putting on shoes, any shoe, any time.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulGUVJzPZQ50FyZKh9xOi9XcJdkiuPm3rUcezqe0i1rGo1N90PctU9WIy7PfLKuuC8JNsN4fGRhQSlUnZvXKfmmjdoBIsYe546rUnKncEsZCa0VX6GnAnH4gKw0cldjjaG2R9uLNERcs/s1600-h/ava+at+fridge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 323px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjulGUVJzPZQ50FyZKh9xOi9XcJdkiuPm3rUcezqe0i1rGo1N90PctU9WIy7PfLKuuC8JNsN4fGRhQSlUnZvXKfmmjdoBIsYe546rUnKncEsZCa0VX6GnAnH4gKw0cldjjaG2R9uLNERcs/s400/ava+at+fridge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304307040408854658" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And the two hoodlums playing Superman with a stool and a blanket. Notice Ashers' sweet outfit--Spiderman swimsuit (size 2) and an orange hoodie. We went to the pool on Monday night for FHE and I'm pretty sure my kids were the best dressed! Miss Ava did not even have a suit. Yep, just sporting the BLUE swim diaper--it pretty much sucks being the third child. Good thing there were no photos taken at the pool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOooQ3qfwfqTE8ld_yQlJESxwnTGJ7qr0HdvE-jap3m4RKBg80Azsv-3xEcgpR3HmnCx5_b-xRMdW48LLAFiLN4ey1ArZ2ESF_1By2UMXt2Q_ei9j_JI4xXnJu2WFX0Rfodh_rkeYBor0/s1600-h/ava+and+ash.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 367px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOooQ3qfwfqTE8ld_yQlJESxwnTGJ7qr0HdvE-jap3m4RKBg80Azsv-3xEcgpR3HmnCx5_b-xRMdW48LLAFiLN4ey1ArZ2ESF_1By2UMXt2Q_ei9j_JI4xXnJu2WFX0Rfodh_rkeYBor0/s400/ava+and+ash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304307035589421778" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And the little fashionista again in her drool soaked wife beater with her sweet swim goggles! Ya baby! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf96NGLUboPszoXGxxbFzbnw1IXmrocXqSk1F93pemYGhA03Tgza3hGb4mAjKMJjhI1GOUq-4NgD-2HPKnkIGw3d_tNpX3xAE6bWE9dr-lZA9FZTs1NMa9Z5goNkI7Ala-5mTj2v7Rg0Q/s1600-h/ava+goggles.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 363px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf96NGLUboPszoXGxxbFzbnw1IXmrocXqSk1F93pemYGhA03Tgza3hGb4mAjKMJjhI1GOUq-4NgD-2HPKnkIGw3d_tNpX3xAE6bWE9dr-lZA9FZTs1NMa9Z5goNkI7Ala-5mTj2v7Rg0Q/s400/ava+goggles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304307031165780178" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRYz3kV1CKQhAgD6rMsoRlbaUUNa3mniTLPEcVBAsdRN4h_Yt7xEAgPVSOMUZTVEfiLa2aDGEmFd7ZMY_-fFIPyNKVd_gnvCgBLpzhgZCcWFjVvijgiIiKVHXxNh6U8lk0T7H8x2RZ_A/s1600-h/avacloseup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRYz3kV1CKQhAgD6rMsoRlbaUUNa3mniTLPEcVBAsdRN4h_Yt7xEAgPVSOMUZTVEfiLa2aDGEmFd7ZMY_-fFIPyNKVd_gnvCgBLpzhgZCcWFjVvijgiIiKVHXxNh6U8lk0T7H8x2RZ_A/s400/avacloseup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304295442731652482" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I hope you have a ROCK STAR day!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">By the way, if you are feeling a bit tired and frustrated, try a bit of sarcasm--it totally works!</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-65074418159601975192009-02-12T13:35:00.000-08:002009-02-12T13:57:59.739-08:00The results of mom working the night shift. .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWcYpjBDOH51jx2NTFGq6VnzOESQOqcjfo3B8sDrIzUw1qFwB3NMeBl7-Et3KrMcQ2JDa0oGG6RLE87Gb-vVhEkxAzyTTKWAf_J-dkNfmQpSRcR5oRkCDQYGZDJMI5NCDur-t7jwdZig/s1600-h/tats.jpg"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';">So I head off to work. . .another night of taking care of the "critically ill" of Blackfoot. Just a little side note peeps. . .they call it the EMERGENCY ROOM for a reason--it is for EMERGENCIES!! And really, your kid with a runny nose for 4 days is NOT an emergency. Okay, I feel a better now.</span></span></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">So here is the sitch--I came home Monday morning a bit groggy and Ash whips up his jammie sleeve to display is new artwork via daddy. Something like this:</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Ash. "momma look. Daddy gave me a tat."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Me. "Cool dude--that's tough lookin."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Me. Sitting in the chair nursing Ava. Tickling her yummy little feet. . ."What THE"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Yep, that's right my baby girl all tatted up! We are soooo white trash. I guess it was just a matter of time, livin' here in "the Foot." I called Quinn for a little confrontation and he was giggling like an 11 year old girl.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Q. "Well, hon, I was going to put a big one just above her diaper on her back---TRAMP STAMP--but she wouldn't hold still."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Here is the number to child protective services!<br /></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'courier new';"><br /></span></div><div><span><span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:'courier new';"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWcYpjBDOH51jx2NTFGq6VnzOESQOqcjfo3B8sDrIzUw1qFwB3NMeBl7-Et3KrMcQ2JDa0oGG6RLE87Gb-vVhEkxAzyTTKWAf_J-dkNfmQpSRcR5oRkCDQYGZDJMI5NCDur-t7jwdZig/s1600-h/tats.jpg"><br /></a></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWcYpjBDOH51jx2NTFGq6VnzOESQOqcjfo3B8sDrIzUw1qFwB3NMeBl7-Et3KrMcQ2JDa0oGG6RLE87Gb-vVhEkxAzyTTKWAf_J-dkNfmQpSRcR5oRkCDQYGZDJMI5NCDur-t7jwdZig/s400/tats.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302028251427127954" /><br /></div></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-3505865438383276092009-01-30T07:58:00.000-08:002009-01-30T08:18:44.411-08:00Check out these yummy bags!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtvOrUTPrew5uStpKB2rzQde13upWwyE6eZk3AJJyhMCxdShfco8dQbSrWxRaWvSBD-kH8iDOPF4WFPhw96JPelQFj9s1ZDFS1LfVP9CkLNYQo8COwrKt22HtZM8vSa04-i3QkI3Owyc/s1600-h/New+bags+006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtvOrUTPrew5uStpKB2rzQde13upWwyE6eZk3AJJyhMCxdShfco8dQbSrWxRaWvSBD-kH8iDOPF4WFPhw96JPelQFj9s1ZDFS1LfVP9CkLNYQo8COwrKt22HtZM8vSa04-i3QkI3Owyc/s400/New+bags+006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297120434264646738" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_h1wpaCV4AdEQs_qZhul8-30XLJqf8mIVsS6Kme2hkqUTkp8alEIdq3jjPKg1LCoBnh86IPuXk3PpdrB7eYm-scdF5oRCurz_v-RtXrtpVS3R4hEQWttryzG9YNK4cI5V7TvckC7OHxg/s1600-h/Jumbo+Glam+Bag+003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_h1wpaCV4AdEQs_qZhul8-30XLJqf8mIVsS6Kme2hkqUTkp8alEIdq3jjPKg1LCoBnh86IPuXk3PpdrB7eYm-scdF5oRCurz_v-RtXrtpVS3R4hEQWttryzG9YNK4cI5V7TvckC7OHxg/s400/Jumbo+Glam+Bag+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297119236387933442" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I am in love. . .look at these bags! I am so jealous of talented people like Tiffany. I've always wished I could sew, but alas, maybe on a scrapbook page. . .</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, check out Tiffany's blog </span><a href="www.tinyseamstress.blogspot.com"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">www.tinyseamstress.blogspot.com</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> and see for yourself all these cute bags. She has several different styles but these are my favs! She is having a contest right now, trying to get more publicity (well deserved) so go there and leave a comment saying I referred you. You get to see some awesome sewing projects and I will (hopefully) be sporting a new "glam bag." Have a great weekend!</span></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-6222483031590849242009-01-12T03:31:00.000-08:002009-01-12T03:57:41.058-08:00It's alive. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFazgz8X8-w764QsK9Rans2vsxrLTBFXTgs-JpCXArmWjq6VbWCCEwhqkXzu1PEdkYF2mbjEL5ye360ZiY8ttQCJ4AzQpxqSrTAXNIKkvCkFirojJ06AUjS3c80PaPVpLfXayJ0fyTr4A/s1600-h/DSC_6762.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFazgz8X8-w764QsK9Rans2vsxrLTBFXTgs-JpCXArmWjq6VbWCCEwhqkXzu1PEdkYF2mbjEL5ye360ZiY8ttQCJ4AzQpxqSrTAXNIKkvCkFirojJ06AUjS3c80PaPVpLfXayJ0fyTr4A/s400/DSC_6762.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290374263701957154" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvvmata0eREDRSsybxS6Lw_yARSSu7fv9RqziA2L31ai1fjrLhsZosS9dtSNk3l4F0lgcL_-wCByF8sNn3w5KgHnkGG32yfjBT6WkmMUGYxr5zVXIi-pSBkMPJzhmyLBq5-ByOR4KWxA/s1600-h/DSC_6763.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvvmata0eREDRSsybxS6Lw_yARSSu7fv9RqziA2L31ai1fjrLhsZosS9dtSNk3l4F0lgcL_-wCByF8sNn3w5KgHnkGG32yfjBT6WkmMUGYxr5zVXIi-pSBkMPJzhmyLBq5-ByOR4KWxA/s400/DSC_6763.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290374239447310130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tWH0fgbvdzUfABBRz0_N7whbBRyhMrlA0vttHlVUD1IiyzPRENTZTYyoe6YQ2bXBhGse5uxjHHeRby2AgrDY-lPaeuSz4bbBkL6dU_GB0bmCz28flLah0Jf8Sfo77dp9HaLsdLk9YdU/s1600-h/DSC_6775.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tWH0fgbvdzUfABBRz0_N7whbBRyhMrlA0vttHlVUD1IiyzPRENTZTYyoe6YQ2bXBhGse5uxjHHeRby2AgrDY-lPaeuSz4bbBkL6dU_GB0bmCz28flLah0Jf8Sfo77dp9HaLsdLk9YdU/s400/DSC_6775.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290374235880829554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPclhLWuyQ_IcxcvHFcJ8H4iwZJRN5DnZEL4QhOqfaYcdfB81fSij71NQujo7pjL9LYD2zYb2CC2rMRKv_wyAWwIySCDc2jqzkzrGMY2OfGi-TObjA1nUHQ0VUt5SR-W327o8fT_NMlI/s1600-h/christmas+card.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVPclhLWuyQ_IcxcvHFcJ8H4iwZJRN5DnZEL4QhOqfaYcdfB81fSij71NQujo7pjL9LYD2zYb2CC2rMRKv_wyAWwIySCDc2jqzkzrGMY2OfGi-TObjA1nUHQ0VUt5SR-W327o8fT_NMlI/s400/christmas+card.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290374232915642114" /></a><br />Okay, so I'm in a total-friggin-complete-100%-can't focus-overwhelmed-delusional SLUMMMMPPPPPADINKA! What's a girl to do. . .so many things I want to blog--so little damn ambition. I'm currently at work and it's 4 a.m. I'm pretty sure the last loser-run-from-the-cops-while-drunk-as-a-skunk-meet-the-wrong-end-of-a-cop-stick-dude sucked all remaining life blood from me. But my friend, Alycia, who has been crazy busy just inspired me with a little blog update complete with pics. So here goes. . .a picture (or two) and a promise to follow-up with my mental list of 'bloggin topics.' May the force be with you. . .and whichever drunk jackhole you happen to be sewing up!christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-20212283915708717102008-12-18T21:51:00.000-08:002008-12-19T11:03:18.814-08:00Tiny Bubbles<p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwzs3oE4i-4VW8UWj5EsKx7Q5be9oNYJuAYTZ12n3x69s8EE5aWuICyBLSevcjmNnkLhNOwh1ItFmYl8QtmsA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p>Ok, so my wife shows me these blogs where the lame husband "hijacks" them and writes a bunch of mushy stuff about this or that. Well, I am hijacking the blog and adding this, pee your pants, funny video of my son floating some air biskets in the tub! Top that all you husbands trying to make me look bad in front of my wife! Make sure you stop the music at the bottom of this page and turn up your speakers so you can get the full effect. Seriously, you will thank me for it.</p>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-10689068751601273912008-10-09T22:07:00.000-07:002008-10-13T13:55:31.818-07:00"Attention, Child Protective Services. . ."<div>Okay, so I am completely LAME. I am so far behind in blogland, there is so much to say I hardly know where to start. But before Ade calls Child Protective Services I better share a very significant event in his life. . .the loss of his first tooth. You would think that my first borns' loss of his first tooth would warrant immediate documentation but, alas, see above (the LAME part). This even happened July 22nd, 2008, hey, at least I am still in the same year.</div><div><br /></div><div>So here is Aiden and Quinn in the first attempt. Our great friends from Twin, the McNeley's told us they used a kleenex to get some "traction" when pulling the girls' teeth out. So Quinn pulled out the trusty kleenex--</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBiR9YiIGSDRSsztijHGqjsoNcokec-s0sFkKweBwkvZ-cGSX5NavaDdWW8DadO9tBQudlzmFGIALjwYxzIcZ259SegPN49WTy7LbOl4p9tkkJqRR5RwKrVTrK7New3DKmaXiDyFVTno/s1600-h/DSC_3929.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBiR9YiIGSDRSsztijHGqjsoNcokec-s0sFkKweBwkvZ-cGSX5NavaDdWW8DadO9tBQudlzmFGIALjwYxzIcZ259SegPN49WTy7LbOl4p9tkkJqRR5RwKrVTrK7New3DKmaXiDyFVTno/s400/DSC_3929.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255390161542052754" /></a>To no avail.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjh0kHYvUWYPXLpwh4gyGDFLZf9GouoA4ibbQcIJJsj6QZFHwvHDFPRP1IhEN9PmaegWjmEj2gqRKJOJJxq-0502LF-vBWtRwG7ywAX1cQhd0DxIkR_zPoUui9pBOrbpi6izzFRyCEP_A/s1600-h/DSC_3930.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjh0kHYvUWYPXLpwh4gyGDFLZf9GouoA4ibbQcIJJsj6QZFHwvHDFPRP1IhEN9PmaegWjmEj2gqRKJOJJxq-0502LF-vBWtRwG7ywAX1cQhd0DxIkR_zPoUui9pBOrbpi6izzFRyCEP_A/s400/DSC_3930.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255390162099978178" /></a>All this pulling, tugging, wiggling was ridiculously traumatic. Aiden was freaked, Quinn was frustrated and Ash was praying his teeth never get loose. I was simply taking photos, videos, and giggling. 20 minutes later I was thinking this was taking way longer than necessary and I thought to myself, "what would Norm do?" My dad was a great tooth puller--quick, easy, done! Well, Norm used a little mini-plier thing. I did not have one of these "gizmos" but I am a educated person in the "health care field" so I've got to come up with something. Besides watching this MBA dude and a freaked out 6 year old was getting painful. AhhhhHA. I had just the tool. . .curved hemostats and thanks to Tana I knew exactly where they were!<div><br /></div><div>So I pulled them out and when Aiden got a glimpse of the tool he, 100%, WIGGED!!! He tried to run away as Quinn was restraining him. You, seriously woulda thought we were ripping his eyelashes out one by one. As he is trying to escape Quinn's grasp like a little greasy pig trying to escape the bacon maker's hands, Quinn was getting aggroed!!! So I intervened again. . .</div><div><br /></div><div>Me, "EVERYONE RELAX!!!!" (because now Asher is bawling his eyes out thinking his big bro was going to meet a certain death).</div><div><br /></div><div>Ash, Ade, "sniff, sniff, stifled inhale. . ."</div><div><br /></div><div>Quinn, breathing in and out--nice and slow.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me again, "Ade, just take a look at these." He held them, inspected them, and decided they weren't a mid evil torture device. </div><div><br /></div><div>After some calming and distracting questions. . ."what do you think the tooth fairy pays for a first tooth?" BOOM-- it was out. The look on Ade's face was priceless. . .he was shocked, waiting for the pain but it did not come. He was starring at his tooth in my hand--stunned that it was out of his mouth and he was not dead.</div><div><br /></div><div>So here he is, don't ya love the look of pure delight on his face. If this is not evidence for CPS, I'm not sure what is.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHzRjLIVv56gkwZ21eplUB9uUoQkt20M-NYZuQF806rePBqZkIYKvjWc_r2kAIu2ZG42cg1uIXbt_xvaDSKKUtATwi7kwd6SX2BtglyR9Ecszoeqnp1XwP6EZ9NqXBGlWADoXTdad_50/s1600-h/DSC_3931.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOHzRjLIVv56gkwZ21eplUB9uUoQkt20M-NYZuQF806rePBqZkIYKvjWc_r2kAIu2ZG42cg1uIXbt_xvaDSKKUtATwi7kwd6SX2BtglyR9Ecszoeqnp1XwP6EZ9NqXBGlWADoXTdad_50/s400/DSC_3931.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255389268451504130" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLoyCrhsDzM71yDg66UZHbB88PkZ_l67XX_S_LbhBwfPdH-j3eu4resBqSGzahxSLfRaTQMeN0O_BraJ6GW4fCSQrcP-Jb2OnLCwSce70GXSSjllFudUcPhvSvx8Y8gZWM9adGyK5PX0/s1600-h/DSC_3932.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLoyCrhsDzM71yDg66UZHbB88PkZ_l67XX_S_LbhBwfPdH-j3eu4resBqSGzahxSLfRaTQMeN0O_BraJ6GW4fCSQrcP-Jb2OnLCwSce70GXSSjllFudUcPhvSvx8Y8gZWM9adGyK5PX0/s400/DSC_3932.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255389268854346770" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The gap. . .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQlqfwKMid6UCUKccJi_NoMy2tA-YFG5Vo1Wh2W9aHcVpVAJLeq4wfJFzqyCMMGq1O-0ItrTK3-PjTGW4orKyW1zIIwu3Rp_23pIxdyhMlMJZ2U-Ihhy75nl4KdYOvz5wXBYY_GaWjlxs/s1600-h/DSC_3933.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQlqfwKMid6UCUKccJi_NoMy2tA-YFG5Vo1Wh2W9aHcVpVAJLeq4wfJFzqyCMMGq1O-0ItrTK3-PjTGW4orKyW1zIIwu3Rp_23pIxdyhMlMJZ2U-Ihhy75nl4KdYOvz5wXBYY_GaWjlxs/s400/DSC_3933.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255389272970061298" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Notice the hemostats. . .that was a thing of beauty<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUmaHG7Y1paQwaI5FoAicP_oRTnjTjF86KF1vq8t6Gol2SNdYC5Y6QB-Ibhtrjxcg9LH3AJt5eaCwyxeLfzrWQiUP_aaqDBmxUG7iuqa2Sp1zoRoS5P4lN72cl0ABRPWjKQAuE43naiI/s1600-h/DSC_3934.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUmaHG7Y1paQwaI5FoAicP_oRTnjTjF86KF1vq8t6Gol2SNdYC5Y6QB-Ibhtrjxcg9LH3AJt5eaCwyxeLfzrWQiUP_aaqDBmxUG7iuqa2Sp1zoRoS5P4lN72cl0ABRPWjKQAuE43naiI/s400/DSC_3934.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255389278780394034" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And here are the bros. . I hope they are ALWAYS there for each other at times of trial. Notice the glassy-I've-been-bawling-scared-for-my-brother-look in Asher's eyes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEwmxMVnKdRTrGVG6HHzbDRP5F14u3sN107tixh9ptnOcexc6AbQ2kInbwCK6yAZJs_g1amx3SN2DquvnOS-Zm8trUfqUKAYuRWcRQfMowieeVr5Cnxqu7pSFhCfqFIBtqppu6K9Okd8/s1600-h/DSC_3937.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEwmxMVnKdRTrGVG6HHzbDRP5F14u3sN107tixh9ptnOcexc6AbQ2kInbwCK6yAZJs_g1amx3SN2DquvnOS-Zm8trUfqUKAYuRWcRQfMowieeVr5Cnxqu7pSFhCfqFIBtqppu6K9Okd8/s400/DSC_3937.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255389278509013522" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, by the way, the tooth fairy left 2 bucks. I tired to tell Ade that the person who pulls it out gets a cut. . .he didn't go for it. Nice try, mom.</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-89803690700198745902008-09-16T21:43:00.001-07:002008-09-18T11:25:20.173-07:00Ohhh, Yes we did. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SsbCzA5Di7SBFNKuSGdqjrzL5jqORX7co34SBRmNAzzi5s0KVtProR3iquikMnoufU5VGLhNwtO_zoqUlxMDTg8dR0pASpW0Ic1csYxKz0kaXo1UKEz3zpZYxlOeKo78bVsndvrYnbg/s1600-h/DSC_5403.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When Quinn told me we were going to the Poison concert I thought he was totally kidding. I mean really, Poison??? I left my big hair, tight and ripped jeans, and all that thick make-up in the 80's. So, off we went and suddenly I was transported back into 9th grade. Ahhh, does Bret Micheals ever get old. Ummmm, yep. . .or maybe that was me. It was sooooooo freakin loud. I was often plugging my ears to try and get some relief from the assault on my senses.</span><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SsbCzA5Di7SBFNKuSGdqjrzL5jqORX7co34SBRmNAzzi5s0KVtProR3iquikMnoufU5VGLhNwtO_zoqUlxMDTg8dR0pASpW0Ic1csYxKz0kaXo1UKEz3zpZYxlOeKo78bVsndvrYnbg/s400/DSC_5403.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246851494483112770" /></a>You can't see so well in these pics but Bret is sporting some ultra-tight stone washed parahna-chewed style jeans. I'm pretty sure 1988 was on the phone. . .but clearly, he did not give the pants back. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbzNGnpn-WhXAK8VLpJXu5pEhyphenhyphenaGuimG0Umcoc6O82nrhkTq-G7TiHpnO3gaFijAh4cWBKErCbR8eMKYTGCNpKXYIPow2sBDVX4DBvZZ-VE7Lt557Z-oOwPUiSYNUFgYkBoiiB7YUuWfw/s1600-h/DSC_5398.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbzNGnpn-WhXAK8VLpJXu5pEhyphenhyphenaGuimG0Umcoc6O82nrhkTq-G7TiHpnO3gaFijAh4cWBKErCbR8eMKYTGCNpKXYIPow2sBDVX4DBvZZ-VE7Lt557Z-oOwPUiSYNUFgYkBoiiB7YUuWfw/s400/DSC_5398.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246851503799387074" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>So here we are after the concert still "rockin" and our ears totally ringing. Quinn was still complaining the next morning. . .not to bad for the "thirty-somethings."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnxU3UWFrOY9am4_APJg0IHSpL_7b7I72k8cEDK2xEIybmqHB1UJB3xguRJ0IARDkviAkE697qRJ77wITVwSxAr09UJkopPitT0wkUg0j_-10QTR8LrSDkfAgtAtBooorZcFqFyFJsAU/s1600-h/DSC_5432.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBnxU3UWFrOY9am4_APJg0IHSpL_7b7I72k8cEDK2xEIybmqHB1UJB3xguRJ0IARDkviAkE697qRJ77wITVwSxAr09UJkopPitT0wkUg0j_-10QTR8LrSDkfAgtAtBooorZcFqFyFJsAU/s400/DSC_5432.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246849416380924514" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, so let's be totally honest here. . .I REAL reason why I love the fair so much, YEP, the huge boost in self-confidence. Just 5 minutes from my house and I am the a.) best mom, b.) style fashonista, and c.) sooo skinny. This year I took photos for evidence. (and really because it was pretty sneaky fun). Warning: further reading may result in the "train wreck" phenomena.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1IfciL3dMkYLSky9wk9CvpS3ozjOLPmXOIPTQJem4oY-tgJBRdB2vNQURsuiuXBxQYamBkBY-RwFd7Q6VjOppaCBuN1nv_J0TIP9zDTrRxNi70oY1YbSLcwFjeTjMCGpL0-IusPENOQ/s1600-h/DSC_5364.JPG"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1IfciL3dMkYLSky9wk9CvpS3ozjOLPmXOIPTQJem4oY-tgJBRdB2vNQURsuiuXBxQYamBkBY-RwFd7Q6VjOppaCBuN1nv_J0TIP9zDTrRxNi70oY1YbSLcwFjeTjMCGpL0-IusPENOQ/s1600-h/DSC_5364.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx1IfciL3dMkYLSky9wk9CvpS3ozjOLPmXOIPTQJem4oY-tgJBRdB2vNQURsuiuXBxQYamBkBY-RwFd7Q6VjOppaCBuN1nv_J0TIP9zDTrRxNi70oY1YbSLcwFjeTjMCGpL0-IusPENOQ/s400/DSC_5364.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246849421657982786" /></a>So this chick "looks" pretty normal but I was standing next to her (as I waited for my boys on the Ferris wheel) and she was talking to her kids like they were about 20 years old and her friends. I was jaw-dropped stunned. . .she was going off talking about how she was going to "F@*$#* her up." Over and over and over, huge f bombs along with all the other accessories that go with that type of explicits. And these were 3 little BOYS she was relaying this story to (about ages 6, 9, and 11). I could not quite starring at her completely stunned and revolted. As she walked away and I stole the shot of her I was thinking about how thrilled I was that my boys would probably go to school with her kids who have a deranged view on how to behave and treat other people.</div><div>So, yea, after that display, I was pretty much a mom of the year candidate.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDv-NgFdrYmK6QuwK_wfJuwW_kGAPxh70rPmbz4IXuBDmlh1-sSzPCSJbC4TDzrSEAQ-o0rQcvAMcrrwt-iCLJaQWR87KOERs1_lunG0YmKRDDxLaf_gqVTBQuhPQvhdyOU1qEIMgTnms/s1600-h/DSC_5382.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDv-NgFdrYmK6QuwK_wfJuwW_kGAPxh70rPmbz4IXuBDmlh1-sSzPCSJbC4TDzrSEAQ-o0rQcvAMcrrwt-iCLJaQWR87KOERs1_lunG0YmKRDDxLaf_gqVTBQuhPQvhdyOU1qEIMgTnms/s400/DSC_5382.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246849423685307938" /></a>Yea, my mom jeans, clogs, and tee shirt were not looking as frumpy. . .</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-2D15FkuINXqJHn7P4fGo9qmn8231T5qrbcluJRbQcEgTl_ff1YKurwlUSw162dMMbLTw6n4MvqRduQk1BKyPwS94pQEwXPKOiasCGjQa68JugfzMOpcSSQy4_JyqvHP4kQUMR8gQ64/s1600-h/DSC_5379.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-2D15FkuINXqJHn7P4fGo9qmn8231T5qrbcluJRbQcEgTl_ff1YKurwlUSw162dMMbLTw6n4MvqRduQk1BKyPwS94pQEwXPKOiasCGjQa68JugfzMOpcSSQy4_JyqvHP4kQUMR8gQ64/s400/DSC_5379.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246849429472000210" /></a>Do I really need to explain. . .What muffin?</div><div><br /></div><div>So there ya go, the reasons I LOVE the fair. I'll post some pics of freakin cute kids having a great time with their buddies at the fair. But I had to pull the honestly card first!</div><div><br /></div><div>Have a great day.</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-67547845786809443892008-09-10T13:29:00.001-07:002008-09-10T15:20:02.924-07:00No longer in denial. . .<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUYaQamh1_wIogxfa0SC1PkkMWKSRRN1wQcfyoWrTC6FwwBwVlHqVTg6eU_GXpVzhDsDtZM6zhyphenhyphenhxv3Em9774M7cayHQy12gjBjpxAconCsW92v5Fff4ZTEepxIg7xRxDcT2Ap0cknRo/s1600-h/DSC_4574.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); ">HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my BEAUTIFUL, YUMMY, SMART, FUNNY, SWEET, DELIGHTFUL, PRECIOUS, CHARMING, LOVING, LIGHT-OF-MY-LIFE BABY GIRL!!!!</span></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUYaQamh1_wIogxfa0SC1PkkMWKSRRN1wQcfyoWrTC6FwwBwVlHqVTg6eU_GXpVzhDsDtZM6zhyphenhyphenhxv3Em9774M7cayHQy12gjBjpxAconCsW92v5Fff4ZTEepxIg7xRxDcT2Ap0cknRo/s1600-h/DSC_4574.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJUYaQamh1_wIogxfa0SC1PkkMWKSRRN1wQcfyoWrTC6FwwBwVlHqVTg6eU_GXpVzhDsDtZM6zhyphenhyphenhxv3Em9774M7cayHQy12gjBjpxAconCsW92v5Fff4ZTEepxIg7xRxDcT2Ap0cknRo/s400/DSC_4574.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244498887702238162" /></a>I've been in such denial that my baby is now ONE. Simply typing the words makes the throw-up creep up into my mouth. I kept thinking if I did not post it, my baby would still be a baby and not a growing-way-too-fast-one-year-old! But alas, I must face reality and accept that I will never have a little baby again. And while I LOVE every stage my yummy little rugrats go through I especially LOVE the 3-12 month stages. <div><br /></div><div>So here's a little reflection. . .<br /><div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-oTGnpaboXA0HHPeoZEoVOHoYMwRhY6k7_aILga8B0cgKSzCl_ddZMPYDpwQrPy5iAdGlm5wKJQiglURxPO0QLFP83dyaxt08ZHceSSGVYvK_cc-055gw1ZsKz0UJdHDdZ8gp2glAOg/s1600-h/DSC_0015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV-oTGnpaboXA0HHPeoZEoVOHoYMwRhY6k7_aILga8B0cgKSzCl_ddZMPYDpwQrPy5iAdGlm5wKJQiglURxPO0QLFP83dyaxt08ZHceSSGVYvK_cc-055gw1ZsKz0UJdHDdZ8gp2glAOg/s400/DSC_0015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244498892379032866" /></a>I will never forget the entire operating room squealing, "IT'S A GIRL!" Quinn and the anestheologist were the only males in the room and NOBODY knew the sex of our baby (including us). They just knew that we had two bouncing boys at home. </div><div><br /></div><div>There was no one person that said it was a girl, just a chorus of squeals, the excitement was almost tangible. Then there was Quinn and I, completely shocked. . .we only knew how to have baby boys. The first thing I said was, "are you sure?" and Dr. Huggins replied with a quick bottom side peak over the curtain. Quinn looked at our little girl and the first thing he said was, "little girl, you are going to cost me a lot of money." He was so right on! What a perfect morning that was. . .my little 8 pound 8 ouncer born on the 8th day of the 8th month!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKXFBG3BYhN3HdDfx0rGK-eJXny2HJDzr3e9YjD5TLcM_7Dfgm2sPCZ4TcDo43dlzvleLlUot8t0UOs_IKGgnQT1RghEniIfyv5UnIak7ntjB57dJzTBIYYPD3Nsz7_WRZlDrhyjYNDw/s1600-h/DSC_0020.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKXFBG3BYhN3HdDfx0rGK-eJXny2HJDzr3e9YjD5TLcM_7Dfgm2sPCZ4TcDo43dlzvleLlUot8t0UOs_IKGgnQT1RghEniIfyv5UnIak7ntjB57dJzTBIYYPD3Nsz7_WRZlDrhyjYNDw/s400/DSC_0020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244498903783437506" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Srk0sx4DRUjKQl2lr7LvcO3ZTMmZgqzRH1_LcV_4D74WTayLN7jjqCSXTsHIP-O4INDDd4Yhke7eDMZVu5PFs9OnDaij5J26ZZaptLaPhyphenhyphenMSkDMuKM7eBwofRYIF5Aa5SEDLNx5mhyphenhypheng/s1600-h/DSC_0117.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I am beyond grateful to Quinn for capturing this perfect little moment. . .the first time I touched my little girl.</span></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Srk0sx4DRUjKQl2lr7LvcO3ZTMmZgqzRH1_LcV_4D74WTayLN7jjqCSXTsHIP-O4INDDd4Yhke7eDMZVu5PFs9OnDaij5J26ZZaptLaPhyphenhyphenMSkDMuKM7eBwofRYIF5Aa5SEDLNx5mhyphenhypheng/s1600-h/DSC_0117.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><br /><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Srk0sx4DRUjKQl2lr7LvcO3ZTMmZgqzRH1_LcV_4D74WTayLN7jjqCSXTsHIP-O4INDDd4Yhke7eDMZVu5PFs9OnDaij5J26ZZaptLaPhyphenhyphenMSkDMuKM7eBwofRYIF5Aa5SEDLNx5mhyphenhypheng/s400/DSC_0117.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244498907570315122" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); text-decoration: underline;">Pink signs. . .who knew. A big thanks to the Armstorngs for starting out the color invasion!</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMAtk_fpv1YQ25VZwXeNQwlYUCz2XLZJxiuJbEHev8xqnvovGyANvr8kGkxcMwCeF6TL5OcSVUQViG8d3lm9BpepX3Ob8S1rKWR7RM4admVrdoMXWz9ZoYZwVdBd7S6KJsT7UHL82wNY/s1600-h/DSC_4610.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><br /><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMAtk_fpv1YQ25VZwXeNQwlYUCz2XLZJxiuJbEHev8xqnvovGyANvr8kGkxcMwCeF6TL5OcSVUQViG8d3lm9BpepX3Ob8S1rKWR7RM4admVrdoMXWz9ZoYZwVdBd7S6KJsT7UHL82wNY/s400/DSC_4610.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244496266621338002" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline; ">So here is my little girl clapping along to the singing of Happy Birthday. Thanks to Ade for assisting in blowing out the candle.</span></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sxaoPZG4XbtuDkGrmJv_-Hw-Eyb-Ovkww0qaRQzvxVhQYRjpjeekvbxnRXiSm605JZ3CWbCIQlADSGC_Jz8p7kOOdE2XDkWTDPkFb7Oa_2bafsONXNuyY51gDXp-zXA0Xh098hvskDE/s1600-h/DSC_4629.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sxaoPZG4XbtuDkGrmJv_-Hw-Eyb-Ovkww0qaRQzvxVhQYRjpjeekvbxnRXiSm605JZ3CWbCIQlADSGC_Jz8p7kOOdE2XDkWTDPkFb7Oa_2bafsONXNuyY51gDXp-zXA0Xh098hvskDE/s400/DSC_4629.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244496273945159906" /></a>Was she into the cake??? Not so much. Yep, she was pretty much annoyed by it. Her OWN cake, chocolate with butter cream frosting in the shape of a flower. . .and all she can do is turn up her cute little nose!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KaalHIV1DoyFF80i59JDeoPEMl8cRnTxNdGPdlguaOQz__MRVfds7kd98U1w1AGXgukjzNprcU8XkzjvkZRuXlDiqZVny7GhpPIz0QCnpiAehBmrtTz9wAehBeCDQLcFUaWkyvPTHR0/s1600-h/DSC_4651.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KaalHIV1DoyFF80i59JDeoPEMl8cRnTxNdGPdlguaOQz__MRVfds7kd98U1w1AGXgukjzNprcU8XkzjvkZRuXlDiqZVny7GhpPIz0QCnpiAehBmrtTz9wAehBeCDQLcFUaWkyvPTHR0/s400/DSC_4651.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244496280168597282" /></a>Thanks for at least messing it up a bit, sissy.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jHyy8zB6M_9AnThOHu972JWPJDioVXz6ayqGARkSc2JOj4DNpoUFid-5SIR5KSjZ0fiAVZJB0-vWpd-DvUrNl1OCsm6Tm1T89WBTc99xGB1AVsEaL6Amfbn5wnpmKH1pouMtnvH_EsI/s1600-h/DSC_4594.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jHyy8zB6M_9AnThOHu972JWPJDioVXz6ayqGARkSc2JOj4DNpoUFid-5SIR5KSjZ0fiAVZJB0-vWpd-DvUrNl1OCsm6Tm1T89WBTc99xGB1AVsEaL6Amfbn5wnpmKH1pouMtnvH_EsI/s400/DSC_4594.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244495075211045330" /></a>Here are the party goers. Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Papa, Aunt Sue, Uncle Kev, Val, Taylor, Heather, Issac, the Birds, and the Armstrongs. I think the Bird's won the most innovative-we-know-this-little-girl-gift. They brought Ava a giant bag of Sonic ice!!! And we all know how she (and her mom) loves Sonic ice!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_azh1L1ssAQuTcgwYxfnaEISDuUnnahGF4TDGDqnP9xJPNK3dlAGa__eXm3d6RWgE3xo7ILkrzwDTeKKBRYrOqHKpWBSUWhkC7Cv5shkwrqoPYwp7d_g2PQ3GERWIT943Ld3HXYQCoA/s1600-h/DSC_4586.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_azh1L1ssAQuTcgwYxfnaEISDuUnnahGF4TDGDqnP9xJPNK3dlAGa__eXm3d6RWgE3xo7ILkrzwDTeKKBRYrOqHKpWBSUWhkC7Cv5shkwrqoPYwp7d_g2PQ3GERWIT943Ld3HXYQCoA/s400/DSC_4586.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244495079609982834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeQdAJmBksWZdMAsrlkdqP5EwG2Ss_cbHu7WpzXPTz9MEVqhtsc96lXMIt17Ztn0crysqBIFvEIzeDXRSd3Oy-McHCKhvbZh2AZWf0dUR6KFKkVcAhV1nYgCePis6yeg7g3GyDnKY6s4/s1600-h/DSC_4598.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeQdAJmBksWZdMAsrlkdqP5EwG2Ss_cbHu7WpzXPTz9MEVqhtsc96lXMIt17Ztn0crysqBIFvEIzeDXRSd3Oy-McHCKhvbZh2AZWf0dUR6KFKkVcAhV1nYgCePis6yeg7g3GyDnKY6s4/s400/DSC_4598.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244495090475944978" /></a>This is a little guitar/cart thing from grandma and grandpa. Ava thought it was more fun to have Macie pull her around in the cart. It was a really fun night and I didn't even cry. Thanks to everyone for coming and helping Ava celebrate!</div></div></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-20570146176439743852008-09-10T12:37:00.000-07:002008-09-10T13:05:39.801-07:00FIRST GRADE HOMEWORK DRAMA. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgcatDRQ9iRnTbm7thKQdadoNlxHZuXxvockQqpiqu-e93FNO996SfhfguZbf6uhv08xazl6XacU2Il2ntreYqrUFWdoEx2h2ecHI-hWjX4Pr41MDXTVsA_gyUgtEYyQjGllqwjsLr27Y/s1600-h/DSC_5512.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I mean really, first grade. . .what am I going to do when it's 8th grade. So here is the story, Ade comes home yesterday and seems to be on the verge of a complete meltdown. Being the wise mom I just assumed this was more about a lack of sleep due o the night before's</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgcatDRQ9iRnTbm7thKQdadoNlxHZuXxvockQqpiqu-e93FNO996SfhfguZbf6uhv08xazl6XacU2Il2ntreYqrUFWdoEx2h2ecHI-hWjX4Pr41MDXTVsA_gyUgtEYyQjGllqwjsLr27Y/s1600-h/DSC_5512.JPG"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">family home "skievening". Aiden is rarely emotional. So I should have caught on that there was something more going on. </span></a></span><div><br /></div><div>So we sit down to do homework and the waterworks begin. I was totally taken back. . .whooooaaaa what the crap. All he could say was, "but mom my 6's aren't PERFECT!!" WHAT, perfect 6's??? Who knew. I investigated and thought the 6's looked great, but I am the impartial mom. I showed Ade how I write the number 6 and we looked at his work from earlier in the day (which he got 100%) and they looked the same. He kept arguing with me. I had to look him in the face and tell him that "even though I was not a teacher, I am a college graduate and I know how to write a SIX!" </div><div><br /></div><div>30 minutes and many tears later I was almost over the edge so, yep, day 8 and I'm calling the teacher. (Call me a helicopter mom, I don't care, this was serious business. . .heehee) Well, the real story comes out. The class had a "test" today on the 50 in a minute thing. Aiden has been practicing every day and doing very well. So today he did not pass and the kids that passed got a licorice rope. . .AHHHHHHHHHHH. All this sadness and drama over a DAMN licorice rope. Someone get Twizzlers on the line! He finished the test in time but the teacher aides did not pass him cause some of his numbers were "sloppy." So we went to work on 2's, 4's and 0's. <br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgcatDRQ9iRnTbm7thKQdadoNlxHZuXxvockQqpiqu-e93FNO996SfhfguZbf6uhv08xazl6XacU2Il2ntreYqrUFWdoEx2h2ecHI-hWjX4Pr41MDXTVsA_gyUgtEYyQjGllqwjsLr27Y/s1600-h/DSC_5512.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgcatDRQ9iRnTbm7thKQdadoNlxHZuXxvockQqpiqu-e93FNO996SfhfguZbf6uhv08xazl6XacU2Il2ntreYqrUFWdoEx2h2ecHI-hWjX4Pr41MDXTVsA_gyUgtEYyQjGllqwjsLr27Y/s400/DSC_5512.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244480076403236642" /></a>I LOVE how supportive Asher is being, right there watching every swipe of the pencil. And he would intermittently go get Ade a fresh Kleenex.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_BO2LkpuHshk2WNuiJLWWQ2DJRr5uCY7WToUdBaKmNujzM-kQm2VKgcwegF7mU1Zs7T_vyj4yT_71cNADTKNs47a_Ui8LdBrXm1C4nW5m7-17-HdA-ZDIQNb4InGGJh2IulNY6rM2D0Q/s1600-h/DSC_5513.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_BO2LkpuHshk2WNuiJLWWQ2DJRr5uCY7WToUdBaKmNujzM-kQm2VKgcwegF7mU1Zs7T_vyj4yT_71cNADTKNs47a_Ui8LdBrXm1C4nW5m7-17-HdA-ZDIQNb4InGGJh2IulNY6rM2D0Q/s400/DSC_5513.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244480082976071314" /></a>Notice the Kleenex and red eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKX7SYuWxSTTVcZQXa1tBmd2Dek8bbHfMZU2KizDV6f87eSGRXkbaG62xV1jSEzg4ENA34hzpM41kn0-z81LadCAoPKqqqQHGvgbkAT8Cp4sKUi_M1qheT6bpPq8UmphfnW11q7qMTJqk/s1600-h/DSC_5514.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKX7SYuWxSTTVcZQXa1tBmd2Dek8bbHfMZU2KizDV6f87eSGRXkbaG62xV1jSEzg4ENA34hzpM41kn0-z81LadCAoPKqqqQHGvgbkAT8Cp4sKUi_M1qheT6bpPq8UmphfnW11q7qMTJqk/s400/DSC_5514.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244480086504715986" /></a>Amazing that even though I now knew the source for this sad face, it still broke my heart. So an hour and a half, 3 columns of practiced 2's, 4's, and 0's, and countless hugs and praises the sadness was over. Braxton to the rescue and it was time to PLAY!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you, Ade, OCD or not!!!!</div></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-53986301531560911902008-09-03T14:35:00.000-07:002008-09-03T16:20:03.342-07:00Who needs husbands anyway. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNJ8ipjbvTDBatPY14rw6qoUMpyy5e1ZvesImJeLHYcAHqEM7B3ZOueUUA7aMOLiI8OsdN_7nRRIgZGhk_10N0q4y4qfhUI0hrnTcnc9M1q8VuI5tCVcOnHq1EZKl890gHBgdFkxYJBU/s1600-h/DSC_5265.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So last night I asked Quinn to put together this cool new laundry "butler" sorta thing. I knew full well he would "forget" but I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. We all know "Call of Duty" is much more important. . .but alas I held out hope. This morning I headed out to the gym and passed right by my new butler STILL IN THE FREAKING BOX. . .shocker.</span></a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNJ8ipjbvTDBatPY14rw6qoUMpyy5e1ZvesImJeLHYcAHqEM7B3ZOueUUA7aMOLiI8OsdN_7nRRIgZGhk_10N0q4y4qfhUI0hrnTcnc9M1q8VuI5tCVcOnHq1EZKl890gHBgdFkxYJBU/s1600-h/DSC_5265.JPG"><br /></a></span>So here I am with my two little "helpers" assembling away. Now we all know how easy it is to put something together with 4 extra hands finding stuff for me and rearranging my piles.<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNJ8ipjbvTDBatPY14rw6qoUMpyy5e1ZvesImJeLHYcAHqEM7B3ZOueUUA7aMOLiI8OsdN_7nRRIgZGhk_10N0q4y4qfhUI0hrnTcnc9M1q8VuI5tCVcOnHq1EZKl890gHBgdFkxYJBU/s400/DSC_5265.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241912962615835426" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, this would have been much more difficult to do the night before without these little rugrats assistance.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtEIxRQaCGKxpzhqugcWBpguWDwv-kz-YMP7Q2F27BU9T2F0SKVXVpK6xz1qH4ZIM76_Bh7HNGFIA5NkMgIiEG3yjELXlCowohH1YF9XtHn0vku8UocAX5SxhpzT9G_R7FwCzLb7zzLg/s1600-h/DSC_5267.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtEIxRQaCGKxpzhqugcWBpguWDwv-kz-YMP7Q2F27BU9T2F0SKVXVpK6xz1qH4ZIM76_Bh7HNGFIA5NkMgIiEG3yjELXlCowohH1YF9XtHn0vku8UocAX5SxhpzT9G_R7FwCzLb7zzLg/s400/DSC_5267.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241912974223785234" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But an hour and a half later here's what I had. . . taaadaaa. I mean really, if it weren't for that whole eternal thing. . .husbands???<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGE6BGORHE2FPgudojRp77qQxZWT06OgODnZ2iX6fK3DgSUsYhUHp-ETfmEXOGZgnrrrv_5-xRcFbI5IcvT-TpAXsZdQi-BtjTfjaO7UqK1Vq2flnYuNJ_rEPY5R1NqUFxl9f5AgLyhOA/s1600-h/DSC_5269.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGE6BGORHE2FPgudojRp77qQxZWT06OgODnZ2iX6fK3DgSUsYhUHp-ETfmEXOGZgnrrrv_5-xRcFbI5IcvT-TpAXsZdQi-BtjTfjaO7UqK1Vq2flnYuNJ_rEPY5R1NqUFxl9f5AgLyhOA/s400/DSC_5269.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241912975847766162" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdriGpMy-oRcrb1kidRlxP3bV7KLdF7KHb5FBtAXe1ZE5ZcrMSkTO5SRNB21wPWpVrjoefmBF4oYOsmWTf4iBDYfs93xLH6QTHD0VZuFk9Rci8BaiEjqwR5mbD_tf5uhPPmnyOGi54dQ/s1600-h/DSC_5270.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdriGpMy-oRcrb1kidRlxP3bV7KLdF7KHb5FBtAXe1ZE5ZcrMSkTO5SRNB21wPWpVrjoefmBF4oYOsmWTf4iBDYfs93xLH6QTHD0VZuFk9Rci8BaiEjqwR5mbD_tf5uhPPmnyOGi54dQ/s1600-h/DSC_5270.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So while I am on the whole "I'll-do-it-myself-pitty-party" I'll show you what else I did today. . </span><br /><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTdriGpMy-oRcrb1kidRlxP3bV7KLdF7KHb5FBtAXe1ZE5ZcrMSkTO5SRNB21wPWpVrjoefmBF4oYOsmWTf4iBDYfs93xLH6QTHD0VZuFk9Rci8BaiEjqwR5mbD_tf5uhPPmnyOGi54dQ/s400/DSC_5270.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241912985837774834" /></a>Yep, the one on the right is 100% full of weeds. Welcome to the ghetto. We are pretty much white trash and I could NOT stand it a moment longer. Asher and Ava were "helping" me for a while. (I'm pretty sure there was more dirt on them than in the entire garden) Anyway, then Ash went to play at Evan's and Ava went down for a nap. Then Chris Daughtry and I had some quality time together! Such great therapy, getting dirty with Mr. Daughtry blaring in my ears.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I'm pretty sure if I pulled weeds more often than twice a summer I would reap more than just this. . .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKTJjq2qFX5Q4mUp0WQujNVy_wdZy221NQ-HlrvCeFZSswIbygZRdulHTnfu4LFgaOCIohAQEY7OyfNUfQwB-HlfI_irwEqSROnTeK_PtV6cX19xFDzZYHOR6P-sOaFRAFSJMXcEGONI/s1600-h/DSC_5272.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKTJjq2qFX5Q4mUp0WQujNVy_wdZy221NQ-HlrvCeFZSswIbygZRdulHTnfu4LFgaOCIohAQEY7OyfNUfQwB-HlfI_irwEqSROnTeK_PtV6cX19xFDzZYHOR6P-sOaFRAFSJMXcEGONI/s400/DSC_5272.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241912990149280834" /></a>I've concluded that gardens are just there to mock me and make me feel even more inadequate. Damn, gardens and husbands. . .I really need a Diet Coke and maybe a trip to Nordstorm and the Apple store.</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-9477968975319706202008-08-29T16:48:00.000-07:002008-08-29T17:30:00.861-07:00This is COOL. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A_pwjKkX2IuOnNvGXA496XaerdBscFE78RCxeyBS9IBaVHErKI6bZ3bp4jarF8Df4NJKRXFR96-x0xHQb1R7tuUdeTm5TJ71HmR8MZok9mxWyNtB0FjLQABj0kYCLdBiOZ2Zd7lspRo/s1600-h/DSC_5220.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Here is my baby GIRL. . .watching intently. . .</span></span><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1A_pwjKkX2IuOnNvGXA496XaerdBscFE78RCxeyBS9IBaVHErKI6bZ3bp4jarF8Df4NJKRXFR96-x0xHQb1R7tuUdeTm5TJ71HmR8MZok9mxWyNtB0FjLQABj0kYCLdBiOZ2Zd7lspRo/s400/DSC_5220.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240094035177092850" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Here is what she was watching. . .</span> </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ULvyuB2pmoVK2Yy5sRbfjQOv68I6op7Mri0d4_ZFLNSA5Nqpvn7zaTnLNilTlsitL2sr-Oglt-zd7t3KHTOwHncJAoJOjUPjKsm9gT-qgVlRPsZwywz1xAazJuld2B88ITSt-wmkrmI/s1600-h/DSC_5221.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8ULvyuB2pmoVK2Yy5sRbfjQOv68I6op7Mri0d4_ZFLNSA5Nqpvn7zaTnLNilTlsitL2sr-Oglt-zd7t3KHTOwHncJAoJOjUPjKsm9gT-qgVlRPsZwywz1xAazJuld2B88ITSt-wmkrmI/s400/DSC_5221.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240094043591866034" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">And here is what she was doing. . .</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjo3wewIHpM1p4fX05z9tGos_xAt_9-H6Pjo5dZQ7dB-04l9KG7UjBcIWW75WyWAmWZiQdrVSMFNGtDsnYMJef9YpZMQf4bG9-ObeUaqXgC49q6uUTYSY0uEtGGRht75Z9W7TJjzmpMho/s1600-h/DSC_5218.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjo3wewIHpM1p4fX05z9tGos_xAt_9-H6Pjo5dZQ7dB-04l9KG7UjBcIWW75WyWAmWZiQdrVSMFNGtDsnYMJef9YpZMQf4bG9-ObeUaqXgC49q6uUTYSY0uEtGGRht75Z9W7TJjzmpMho/s400/DSC_5218.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240094047372442818" /></a><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">That's right, this girl is smart. She knows a good thing when she sees it. I was very excited today to watch Sen. McCain's announcement. Although, I had no idea who Sara Palin was or really much about her politics. I did know she was a conservative, educated mom who runs her kids to hockey practice and doesn't put up with any crap back at the office. I do know that I was getting a little sick of the conservative "good ole' boys club." And I'm glad to see a little GOP shake up.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">But what I'm most excited about is this, here was my baby girl sitting on my lap as we watched Gov. Palin give her speech, and she was waving and clapping at the T.V. It struck me. . .in a few years when I tell her she can be anything she wants to be I will be telling the whole truth. Because now here is a great example for her. I also appreciated the example of Hilary Clinton (much to my husband's and in-laws dismay), although I did not agree with her politics I appreciated her education and tenacity to show young girls that they can achieve anything they want. But now Ava can look at Gov. Palin and see someone who is an accomplished woman and mother of FIVE, and believes in individuals taking responsibility for themselves, who also believes a woman's "choice" is when she "chooses" to have sex, not when she is dealing with the consequence of that choice. Politics aside, right or left aside. . .we all know women are much better at multitasking than men. So on that note, GO MCCAIN/PALIN!</span></div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983996719920088620.post-49018923368019737772008-08-27T12:46:00.000-07:002008-08-27T22:10:16.089-07:00Bye, Bye, Babies. . .<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzctqc9Uw_EZQMLuk5eJMiGebnXMs6WKnvMRnagay12K_LAraylILJ51EgVt8w2nyzdn0Ct-63ubCM8AJilOGyaPGHlnNGBr1GnUuV6_FJ-TObdveOT1GTkZ8XTnhyphenhyphenll64iin3WD3crXA/s1600-h/DSC_5158.JPG"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">New backpack and school supplies packed and labeled. . .Check!</span><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzctqc9Uw_EZQMLuk5eJMiGebnXMs6WKnvMRnagay12K_LAraylILJ51EgVt8w2nyzdn0Ct-63ubCM8AJilOGyaPGHlnNGBr1GnUuV6_FJ-TObdveOT1GTkZ8XTnhyphenhyphenll64iin3WD3crXA/s400/DSC_5158.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239412645029422994" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>New (ridiculously expensive) Star Wars tee and new z strap-blue-and-red-with-an-A-on-the-toe-size 13-painfully-hard-to-find-Sketchers. . .Check!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELtHNjaVo81HIOmwXoaPnOoWrJqSjeMhwCgcyotDJENWAwmSDMfwzec0phkjmjfdcYNa9E3yIPgGK0krbZoHP6Pj87xvM4Uppo0M8n9fGDoUZL0tqTapdR8rXpLKLioYf6jumyw2w3Yw/s1600-h/DSC_5160.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELtHNjaVo81HIOmwXoaPnOoWrJqSjeMhwCgcyotDJENWAwmSDMfwzec0phkjmjfdcYNa9E3yIPgGK0krbZoHP6Pj87xvM4Uppo0M8n9fGDoUZL0tqTapdR8rXpLKLioYf6jumyw2w3Yw/s400/DSC_5160.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239412652645486034" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>In bed by 10:00 (yes, P.M. Jenn). . .Check! (what binkie?)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmpxxX49TJ6E_Qi1mC6hyphenhyphenlhimjRKxqxxb04Mag7VTgoS3anz_ebzNl8azSDMDiY9xE2h-CqIrtRuzk4byOc3j7EAM0-X4GLeCxEOl1-UQJi1PmoD6hsNovBRp45SJAAOEDo2EQgejtfeI/s1600-h/DSC_5162.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmpxxX49TJ6E_Qi1mC6hyphenhyphenlhimjRKxqxxb04Mag7VTgoS3anz_ebzNl8azSDMDiY9xE2h-CqIrtRuzk4byOc3j7EAM0-X4GLeCxEOl1-UQJi1PmoD6hsNovBRp45SJAAOEDo2EQgejtfeI/s400/DSC_5162.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239412657850223938" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Falling asleep even though 5 minutes ago you were doing the "sooo excited" dance. . .Check!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkrI0fYLza-rPb6NWxoF4-vxYuNZRxC4GzBkmSpxsh6v_mJsKbMeOwtFXe-2SsKfaJS8Yr23DaPDq1eNVt-xoemScbKgfq3pxT_q5Pp74ZOpHH61QgzBvAgpxkA4wpkIrBfdgVJ-OxHA/s1600-h/DSC_5163.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMkrI0fYLza-rPb6NWxoF4-vxYuNZRxC4GzBkmSpxsh6v_mJsKbMeOwtFXe-2SsKfaJS8Yr23DaPDq1eNVt-xoemScbKgfq3pxT_q5Pp74ZOpHH61QgzBvAgpxkA4wpkIrBfdgVJ-OxHA/s400/DSC_5163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239412661773136770" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Mom, with a huge lump in her throat and throw-up in her mouth. . .freakin check!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCIgFJ1LjDWs7CpUhyPT424msysFPF92W22D7a4CcJny_hGhrhN0sfAM7ozsjKcwcvqJG0N1Y_ra9v6qZJH5AkTRyCi6YMp-MH5A-PCgIWEKnXPoB1_osrGG7KKy8gOvYrB76g7GHCuDQ/s1600-h/DSC_5171.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCIgFJ1LjDWs7CpUhyPT424msysFPF92W22D7a4CcJny_hGhrhN0sfAM7ozsjKcwcvqJG0N1Y_ra9v6qZJH5AkTRyCi6YMp-MH5A-PCgIWEKnXPoB1_osrGG7KKy8gOvYrB76g7GHCuDQ/s400/DSC_5171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239343434562163410" /></a><br /></div><div>Can you stand it??? Cause I barely can, my baby started FIRST FREAKING GRADE today. Really. . .ALL day school, it's so lame. My little man is gone all day. He was soooooo excited. Last night we got all prepared. . .stuff laid out, toe nails and finger nails clipped, lots of chatting about mom's first grade experiences (foggy, very foggy), a blessing from dad, and lots of hugs, kisses, and I love yous. It really was fun and exciting. </div><div><br /></div><div>I actually had to wake Ade up this morning but he bounced right out of bed and got dressed. He also decided "eggs and bacon were a better choice this morning." After he ate (a little bit) he told me his "tummy was sick." Hmmm, maybe he had the mom flu, so nervous you want to barf. But he settled down pretty quickly and kept asking me "is it time to yet" about 150 million times. So finally a little hair gel, hugs from dad, and about a thousand photos later we were off. . .</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQY3_Ag_ICRF-yYxdjdjNnYw4WrBFl-h9E5ROt0EOajsHwGdKhLawMxaQuvsHFB3lG1O55M6gYOA418hAxksJuyt9GEFPOl7W4lE9XZV7osHJsGFVTRlcw6Ixi3OGHxahhKfslR-iczM/s1600-h/DSC_5167.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOQY3_Ag_ICRF-yYxdjdjNnYw4WrBFl-h9E5ROt0EOajsHwGdKhLawMxaQuvsHFB3lG1O55M6gYOA418hAxksJuyt9GEFPOl7W4lE9XZV7osHJsGFVTRlcw6Ixi3OGHxahhKfslR-iczM/s400/DSC_5167.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239343444013716658" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>On the drive to school Ade told me he was "pretty nervous" I didn't tell him how nervous I was and that I was biting the crap out of the inside of my cheek so I didn't cry. Just a little "it's going to be sooo great, buddy." Seemed a bit more appropriate!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0UawjmYXmrxWtRxDIgqIUD9RzwyMTMLFzQEnRktx43QxTKsdF0MLwjUIIbl5mMudbqROVCsuJtL0-adACHTkGphpxcZ1gIT3jPJvfPONIpPVEUQf3ty6j2bg5O3UNsdpN5s8IIjcvv4/s1600-h/DSC_5175.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0UawjmYXmrxWtRxDIgqIUD9RzwyMTMLFzQEnRktx43QxTKsdF0MLwjUIIbl5mMudbqROVCsuJtL0-adACHTkGphpxcZ1gIT3jPJvfPONIpPVEUQf3ty6j2bg5O3UNsdpN5s8IIjcvv4/s400/DSC_5175.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239343452676749890" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I was doing pretty good even at this part. . <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7Vcd8mS4njZhB1inrq7ZwfjfTdc2GTCZVN94MAQ6K5mRIDTqMKAmzy52pOihVlZvqMqWdxdTd9Z7Mqo6hGhY15zz9QXdLCFAq1dAr1CnRLDSHq5Mp5K8AUPEvEuzJBH1XxOgtKQLSzU/s1600-h/DSC_5180.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7Vcd8mS4njZhB1inrq7ZwfjfTdc2GTCZVN94MAQ6K5mRIDTqMKAmzy52pOihVlZvqMqWdxdTd9Z7Mqo6hGhY15zz9QXdLCFAq1dAr1CnRLDSHq5Mp5K8AUPEvEuzJBH1XxOgtKQLSzU/s400/DSC_5180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239343458783116578" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But the kiss and hug goodbye at his desk was a bit rushed. Must-not-let-him-see-me-cry. . .-so-hard. . .ahhh made it to the door! Yep, that's me, the lame mom snapping photos from the doorway. And yes, I did finally leave and go home AND I still had space on my memory card, so there!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2nI0Gh0o0i6Hft00DKNT0PxZbWb3dsgYMfUqmTBz927U-xDS-aiJFoBlEWcrW8cqdvF8_obMHnUVFJoS3Ou5Z89dA1AVSR_6ZVeTO-akNVSsabpcHV0xNbx8PtEGP9U2yTCTHjS064Y/s1600-h/DSC_5187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2nI0Gh0o0i6Hft00DKNT0PxZbWb3dsgYMfUqmTBz927U-xDS-aiJFoBlEWcrW8cqdvF8_obMHnUVFJoS3Ou5Z89dA1AVSR_6ZVeTO-akNVSsabpcHV0xNbx8PtEGP9U2yTCTHjS064Y/s400/DSC_5187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239343466388050210" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So here I am back at home. . .nurse Ava. . .check. Empty dishwasher. . check</div><div><br /></div><div>Asher wants cereal. . .get bowls down. . .check WHAT bowlSSSS. Oh no, there would be only ONE this morning. That moment of seeing that one empty SLC Winter Olympics bowl (Asher always get the Spiderman bowl and Ade has come to accept that) was almost more than I could stand. The rest of the morning went that way. That "something is missing" feeling. And the "where's Ade" thoughts. Weird. </div><div><br /></div><div>But then we got busy, who knew fresh vacuum lines could be so therapeutic?? And Ash had his first (for this year) "ginastics" class. So we busted off to gym. He had a great time, his buddies, Spencer and Evan are in class with him. Does it get any better? Your 2 best buddies, a big open gym, a bouncy mat, and a tramp. . .I'm pretty sure that is Asher's "a Sonic right next door" moment.</div><div><br /></div><div>So great gym class, lunch with friends. . .I was doing pretty good. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQinfCP-vfa3x_kVKlGq0nvl2bGMR3sZldWfoR7OcS5sLDnJK11e04Y8hXpWwhW_WyK8ZzDc0EKN-NXlQD2g1KGF10pIf0pLdzvn0djOJb_ya9irCwlxQIeSN3sQ2l7it7qX1PRtw2AM/s1600-h/DSC_5191.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZQinfCP-vfa3x_kVKlGq0nvl2bGMR3sZldWfoR7OcS5sLDnJK11e04Y8hXpWwhW_WyK8ZzDc0EKN-NXlQD2g1KGF10pIf0pLdzvn0djOJb_ya9irCwlxQIeSN3sQ2l7it7qX1PRtw2AM/s400/DSC_5191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239325574052301074" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Then this happened. . .<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGER_-uLHNOpt_ayd1QJnO-0OhpSCs2Vk4S9hmT8Xb7U7l5Qu3Nk3p5G453dfh89gOAXq5xbHjFMUw-PID524dEJT0IQxP6EveW3Udu3dZ5R1NTuNT8TUCINm7ifZuFi1-m0T-JF0OyxQ/s1600-h/DSC_5192.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGER_-uLHNOpt_ayd1QJnO-0OhpSCs2Vk4S9hmT8Xb7U7l5Qu3Nk3p5G453dfh89gOAXq5xbHjFMUw-PID524dEJT0IQxP6EveW3Udu3dZ5R1NTuNT8TUCINm7ifZuFi1-m0T-JF0OyxQ/s400/DSC_5192.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239300002149635970" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Yep, ASHER'S FIRST DAY OF PRESCHOOL. The prosac Gods sure did some poor planning. . . I mean really a twofer? My blue-eyed baby at preschool. Can you even stand how freaking cute he is in his over-priced Star Wars tee?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmXBP-KRhOhJsqHab5zACraH6sFoaI9U2JiVmXi85LKfQBe99ZczZEGMTUz5NoBbiGa2HfmvWVXlfZnE_At63rTbO7b4KaZmQ0GXk1ZpXoLAWVlACJ1XrbkCi2RH3_jiPDjqs7QasMcI/s1600-h/DSC_5197.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMmXBP-KRhOhJsqHab5zACraH6sFoaI9U2JiVmXi85LKfQBe99ZczZEGMTUz5NoBbiGa2HfmvWVXlfZnE_At63rTbO7b4KaZmQ0GXk1ZpXoLAWVlACJ1XrbkCi2RH3_jiPDjqs7QasMcI/s400/DSC_5197.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239300009026977234" /></a><br /></div><div>On the short drive to his preschool I had the hugest lump in my throat and was drinking Diet Coke like Pepsi was taking over tomorrow. Then we got there and I went around to get Ash out of his side. I wish I had a picture of his face when I opened that door. These 2 HUGE blue eyes with such a sparkle staring back at me with a giant "I'm sooooo excited" anticipatory grin on this yummy little face. I hope I have this image burned in my mind because it was delightful. Anyway, that moment made all my sadness go (temporarily) away. I was so happy for Ash, he was getting his turn and he was psyched!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxyeF48n8QU0ZXqTpCJoHLyG1BT1Qh78YA7T-W26XiptaJ6BGghxR9IpoEOhFHf6QduOCdm3BTSxj6hENy26imgkkxTPeSqUN48naqbRKi5XAmg5a5J47M32Ji-7CWuYdlH-pxHK9yNuw/s1600-h/DSC_5201.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxyeF48n8QU0ZXqTpCJoHLyG1BT1Qh78YA7T-W26XiptaJ6BGghxR9IpoEOhFHf6QduOCdm3BTSxj6hENy26imgkkxTPeSqUN48naqbRKi5XAmg5a5J47M32Ji-7CWuYdlH-pxHK9yNuw/s400/DSC_5201.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239300012905955122" /></a><br /></div><div>My little baby boy and his killer "skatewer shewwwes."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPjjxIh23H33Z2v6K-YgDBp5cfAb0xS4JzPLSlBmLFgPs7jkEE_sOCHK6MlWsVEmDZiDgNvoXFf3IQNbU1ryd7dG5EZ-8wyMdInWC-BWwgiydkhN5bJZdaJzresmI23PX3X_8PsDEF_4/s1600-h/DSC_5203.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPjjxIh23H33Z2v6K-YgDBp5cfAb0xS4JzPLSlBmLFgPs7jkEE_sOCHK6MlWsVEmDZiDgNvoXFf3IQNbU1ryd7dG5EZ-8wyMdInWC-BWwgiydkhN5bJZdaJzresmI23PX3X_8PsDEF_4/s400/DSC_5203.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239300023648653250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2f-yXZCEBYWEDpktN5-W4KoTjXwIkO-Ae-81uIumShFtUbE8BijtoSQoqKepul4_dBdBFKy31fbqLc-ABpPF0SR2BY2lkm6mRJulNZBNi8CNL0OXYbhZZgLFhSR9iIYWZR_nA-6Nk3-s/s1600-h/DSC_5207.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2f-yXZCEBYWEDpktN5-W4KoTjXwIkO-Ae-81uIumShFtUbE8BijtoSQoqKepul4_dBdBFKy31fbqLc-ABpPF0SR2BY2lkm6mRJulNZBNi8CNL0OXYbhZZgLFhSR9iIYWZR_nA-6Nk3-s/s400/DSC_5207.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239289349878330066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RIQuy4VaE2hOnSfQSKB6E4ObomjFFRgjDjN_PJ4lAVKko476HJvwLQhtUmkwgwx25wjto_39WaxyG3JmrhwLBnqla1w4KLXS9PodmaFqYWv-SsASpXEJ3uCz1Tvbv2s4jSGkWhs2XUs/s1600-h/DSC_5209.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RIQuy4VaE2hOnSfQSKB6E4ObomjFFRgjDjN_PJ4lAVKko476HJvwLQhtUmkwgwx25wjto_39WaxyG3JmrhwLBnqla1w4KLXS9PodmaFqYWv-SsASpXEJ3uCz1Tvbv2s4jSGkWhs2XUs/s400/DSC_5209.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239289357428653634" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> Smashie. . .he did not hesitate even for a second, I was so proud of him!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiulMfbqYaTGZYPUkH2Jaje0nUBTpHuZnOaSuLXDcQQH_jvgj3THUYW4gt1k9MtePdXdHPJdIGCwSxHzQ7Ch9cUfk8CKC-aVr2bFSxmYMRwcuLW0EWgVf62n9wRDJe_UeN3WmYRP6_ngfU/s1600-h/DSC_5210.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiulMfbqYaTGZYPUkH2Jaje0nUBTpHuZnOaSuLXDcQQH_jvgj3THUYW4gt1k9MtePdXdHPJdIGCwSxHzQ7Ch9cUfk8CKC-aVr2bFSxmYMRwcuLW0EWgVf62n9wRDJe_UeN3WmYRP6_ngfU/s400/DSC_5210.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239289370851211250" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcGwbnQDIHbws5yInvBJ96Hjvk14iQH7DlS4SUOY_n_b9MDhkFkxX-87fa0tD7wJ4NglUwqYMKCdzY8CeU-742AIVj3Vmq2Neq6iDlQwDcMKuNdq2OLPZjiR0C259OOyLnaMpBnKkglSA/s1600-h/DSC_5211.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcGwbnQDIHbws5yInvBJ96Hjvk14iQH7DlS4SUOY_n_b9MDhkFkxX-87fa0tD7wJ4NglUwqYMKCdzY8CeU-742AIVj3Vmq2Neq6iDlQwDcMKuNdq2OLPZjiR0C259OOyLnaMpBnKkglSA/s400/DSC_5211.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239289381335451490" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDE_eBh_6jvsNMh14mK4WPn6LNtnKOs-kGzB6MpwEaDVAvzMGT94DKBhKakDmQq2kmTyXjWFsVrFxykvxQ2OwzZdPWaepK0zGM7ZMhy8HYFY4j2nBTlpiS6lv9RdSIPpYibcI9qy1SBQ/s1600-h/DSC_5217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnDE_eBh_6jvsNMh14mK4WPn6LNtnKOs-kGzB6MpwEaDVAvzMGT94DKBhKakDmQq2kmTyXjWFsVrFxykvxQ2OwzZdPWaepK0zGM7ZMhy8HYFY4j2nBTlpiS6lv9RdSIPpYibcI9qy1SBQ/s400/DSC_5217.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239289386292178210" /></a>All in all it was a great day but I am spent/done/wiped. And my babies, they are pretty beat too. But the important thing is we ( and by we, I mean ME) made it!!! I'm still wishing for my Ltivo, I so wish I could pause our Life. . .just for a few years, I mean, really is that too much to ask?</div><div><br /></div><div>Have a great day,</div><div>C</div>christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07905805801759805239noreply@blogger.com5