tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61152371605192203032024-03-13T13:25:03.873-06:00Call Me CrazyYou're in the right spot, don't worry. This used to be "Life On Sesame Street." But we don't live on Sesame Street anymore.... looking for the right title. Bear with me.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-59298482708515118952012-03-05T12:14:00.000-07:002012-03-05T12:14:51.736-07:00Introducing: Logic Gone Wrong!!!My Bond will be the first to admit... I have some MESSED UP logic sometimes. :)<br />
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I'm actually starting to think it's <i>kind of</i> funny.. and I wouldn't mind being able to reference it every now and then when I need a good excuse but have forgotten "that really good one" I used to know.<br />
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So, for your reading pleasure, I'm going to offer up some of my ridiculous excuses for logical excuses. It'd be awesome if I could do this on a monthly basis.. but well.. we know my track record.<br />
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<u>Cookie Crisis</u><br />
<i>Thin Mint cookies... They come with two packs per box.. so you'd </i>think<i> that's 2 servings. But according to the box, there are "about 7 servings of 4 cookies." So here's an easy, 7-step process on how to get your cookie fill, guilt-free. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>1. Open box. </i><br />
<i>2. Pull out pack of cookies. </i><br />
<i>3. Take out four cookies. </i><br />
<i>4. Replace pack inside box. </i><br />
<i>5. Close box. </i><br />
<i>6. </i><i>Eat cookies. </i><br />
<i>7. Repeat. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>See.. if you're doing it this way, you're burning a few more calories than if you weren't putting the pack back into the box. You're exercising your muscles and your patience too. Waiting for those cookies is difficult!!! I feel much less guilty eating a box of Thin Mints in one sitting when I'm exercising at the same time.</i><br />
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<u>Leap Day Longevity</u><br />
<i>The other day I had a little anxiety attack when I realized I'm supposed to turn 30 this year and leave my 20's behind. Today I am happy to announce I've decided to instead turn 29 again. I get this privilege because it's Leap Year.. and in honor of February getting an extra day.. (the 29th).. I get to experience an extra year of 29. Had I been turning any other age.. it wouldn't work.. you see?)</i><br />
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</i><br />
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<u>Chocolate Cake is a Balanced Meal</u><br />
<i>Chocolate sheet cake is a healthy breakfast... right? There's milk and butter.. and there's your dairy.. and eggs are good for you.. some protein. And flour.. that's like.. grains. And cocoa powder is made form cocoa beans.. and beans are vegetables, right? And then there's pecans in the icing. Yeah! I've got plenty of food groups in there! Healthy!</i><br />
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(<span style="font-size: x-small;">I was unaware of this at the time of logic illumination.. but apparently Bill Cosby became aware of the health benefits of baked goods a long time before I did. So OBVIOUSLY.. if someone else has thought of this too.. it MUST be true.)</span><br />
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I hope you sweet and faithful readers enjoyed my first episode of Logic Gone Wrong. Maybe there will be another one... maybe not... You'll find out.. eventually. :)LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-41978282194569183662012-02-06T21:35:00.000-07:002012-02-06T21:35:03.766-07:00A Busy LifeWow. August. It's been awhile. Again.<br />
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Our fourth baby finally came in November. (She was actually due in December, but we induced because I was so completely miserable. I still feel a little sad when I think about how I didn't stick it out to the very end.. but I also didn't want to spend another 2-ish weeks dealing with pain that sometimes required Percocet.)<br />
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So the new newbie is here. :) In honor of a new baby and better recognition of personality, Newbie (the old one) is now dubbed "Princess." Because that's what and who she is!! To the very core.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5yoiCQb9iNUB6RSD3iBCWsuCebu4W7Z7piarHdAlyA0r8q97C1wHjQMCYMUQKIqg6La8nZWe3HPN0LNSM-s7YBZ-0Fjxj9uLORzevJpcFWsm3FIegNqcVU61ea1c99dqxUaZ8pu5dtA/s1600/IMAG0212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5yoiCQb9iNUB6RSD3iBCWsuCebu4W7Z7piarHdAlyA0r8q97C1wHjQMCYMUQKIqg6La8nZWe3HPN0LNSM-s7YBZ-0Fjxj9uLORzevJpcFWsm3FIegNqcVU61ea1c99dqxUaZ8pu5dtA/s320/IMAG0212.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">What do you mean it's my fault? I didn't spoil the tar out of my first and originally perceived ONLY daughter! Okay, so maybe I did! Why judge? It's cute! Right???</span><br />
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The new newbie is kind of our Sweet Pea.. so that will be her name. Congratulations, Princess! And Welcome, Sweet Pea!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoBK-MtnAhDenvu8VqBuYy54gAxRDv2yQZlZPfTCAthHoTTABfvasEQ6QzzV5NvxomrDWE3TSedXSqu4YSonIajRkU_5f-uPmCoHjqWBSLmgmT6sAC0PFMEbyUm2RVTHc7iI53bOFzG4/s1600/040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnoBK-MtnAhDenvu8VqBuYy54gAxRDv2yQZlZPfTCAthHoTTABfvasEQ6QzzV5NvxomrDWE3TSedXSqu4YSonIajRkU_5f-uPmCoHjqWBSLmgmT6sAC0PFMEbyUm2RVTHc7iI53bOFzG4/s320/040.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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And, wow. Four kids. It's a lot. I knew it was a lot. Rather.. I <i>thought</i> I knew it was a lot. And, maybe it's not that it's four, but more that it's.. 3 plus a baby! And babies are quite a lot of work, even when they're relatively easy, like Sweet Pea. Bond tried to warn me... over and over and OVER. And over. But I truly feel like I hit the jackpot with my babies, and I can't wait to see how the dynamic works out now that there's another girl. Maybe a little sister will help our little Princess to be slightly more girlie.<br />
Princess has developed into quite the tomboy. She likes planes and trains better than the boys ever did, and it's super cute. Her vocabulary has exploded, and she loves to sing and dance.<br />
Sunshine is unbelievably scholarly. He's very much his father's son. Everything has to be perfect. There is no other way!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysPqRaRcqBh4JKs7nCwBMk12QGBgDbCrbRUdXVHWgPRqYQF2WNAM6xYvWDplgFqmd6ENu9xXY7yE54q02hczQ3ypwki_yPJ7l3F2YxA3WHx9Y69-fX5A3LKhoDul3SXPPSvCUlKdLKtI/s1600/IMAG0173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhysPqRaRcqBh4JKs7nCwBMk12QGBgDbCrbRUdXVHWgPRqYQF2WNAM6xYvWDplgFqmd6ENu9xXY7yE54q02hczQ3ypwki_yPJ7l3F2YxA3WHx9Y69-fX5A3LKhoDul3SXPPSvCUlKdLKtI/s320/IMAG0173.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Tank is an established lover. Usually, it's very endearing.. just not when he has the flu.<br />
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And Sweet Pea has the cutest little smile. I'm excited to see her personality come out over the next several months!<br />
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As if I needed more proof of how busy I am.. it's February.. and my Christmas decorations are still up. It's true. I'll get it put away one of these days!LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-4802287998442336142011-08-04T13:52:00.002-06:002011-08-04T13:54:22.757-06:00Excuses, excuses... and photo bribery.Dear 9 Faithful Followers.. and possible friends and family members who do not "officially" follow.. but really do follow.. but in the "unofficial" sense of the word.. and random people who happen to stumble here,<br />
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Please forgive me for the hiatus...<br />
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I have been avoiding you (well.. the writing of the blog would be more accurate).<br />
And I've been busy.<br />
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But I have returned to share the news that my family is going to expand even more.. as we are expecting baby number four!! And to our HUGE delight and relief.. it's another girl!!! And even MORE relief... Bond has already chosen her name.. and I have agreed and LOVE it... and so we won't have another baby coming home unnamed like we did with Newbie.<br />
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So there you go. I'm knocked up again. It's a girl. And I've spent the last several months working on "The Great Purge." I even started another blog journaling the process of minimizing in this culture. We are slowly seeing the positive results of having less stuff. But it's definitely a long and difficult process.<br />
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So.. since it's been SO long.. I will show you something cute:<br />
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<img alt="" height="333" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6021/5923968288_f6405d32b0.jpg" width="500" /><br />
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Tank was testing out his new sleeping bag about a week before our big camping trip at Blue Mesa. I have lots of pictures to share from that trip.<br />
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Here's a little preview:<br />
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<img alt="IMG_6175" height="375" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6125/6009611736_8e08b52bb2.jpg" width="500" /><br />
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Newbie likes sugar. Newbie likes saltines. She's not sure which one she wants first.. so she double-fists it.<br />
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<img alt="IMG_6188" height="375" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6145/6009065805_e59a05622b.jpg" width="500" /><br />
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Newbie's first day on the boat at Blue Mesa. Her one and only smiley picture of any of the boat pics. Moments after this was taken... Bond flew by us on the wave-runner, creating a tidal wave that soaked everyone and everything on the boat. He was not well-liked by the family after that.. and several attempts were made on his life.<br />
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<img alt="IMG_6265" height="375" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6131/6009087579_8f4e3bff8a.jpg" width="500" /><br />
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Tank's last day on the boat. He refused to leave the boat to do fun things like riding the wave-runner with his daddy or the tube. More to follow on that story later.<br />
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<img alt="IMG_6195" height="375" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6020/6009618216_533fd678b9.jpg" width="500" /><br />
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My brave Sunshine.<br />
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<img alt="IMG_6266" height="500" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6125/6009661776_b631c084e2.jpg" width="304" /><br />
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My not-so-brave Sunshine.<br />
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Ahh... what a great trip. Can't wait to tell you all about it!!!<br />
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Happy August.. and maybe I'll get back to you by ... oh.... October.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-53608799011152153372010-11-01T10:36:00.002-06:002010-11-01T15:41:47.646-06:00Sharing My Pot Roast "Recipe"Happy November!<br />
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I've decided to document that I cooked today.<br />
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Because... wow. I cooked. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzH-d51a8OXn_I7K2d6ZBqWuuxRY5x1_IgwiiNMTR32KiEvc8IG4tXQkPWS6zrFkIkouQN-pku-45NPip0xm7DTpkMq-qDGQJp0OlPgcpEE2V2FQymMTXwAJGME-Tjr8dA5qJId4F9lPI/s1600/IMG_5833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzH-d51a8OXn_I7K2d6ZBqWuuxRY5x1_IgwiiNMTR32KiEvc8IG4tXQkPWS6zrFkIkouQN-pku-45NPip0xm7DTpkMq-qDGQJp0OlPgcpEE2V2FQymMTXwAJGME-Tjr8dA5qJId4F9lPI/s400/IMG_5833.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Fact: You never notice how dirty something is until you set up to take a picture of it. At least the front of my crock pot isn't too hard to clean.<br />
I'm making a pot roast for dinner. My sweet Bond isn't usually really excited about pot roast, but for some reason he really likes mine, and I think I know why. (It has nothing to do with me, though.)<br />
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1) We start with the right meat. <a href="http://www.ranchfoodsdirect.com/">Ranch Foods Direct</a> is where we prefer to buy our beef from. (This is also where Drifter's gets their meat from. Drifter's is my favorite burger joint. And yes, I know I keep putting 'from' at the end of my sentences and you're not supposed to do that. I'll teach my kids better. I promise.)<br />
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2) I use worcestershire sauce. According to Bond, that is the magic ingredient in <i>anything</i> you use beef in. (Bah hah! Another preposition at the end of a sentence.) I use worcestershire sauce in hand-made burger patties, in chili, in spaghetti sauce... you get the picture. If it has beef, it also has worcestershire sauce. But, I don't use it in taco meat.<br />
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That's all that makes it special. I think. Here's everything I used today, in case you're curious:<br />
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1 can cream of mushroom soup<br />
1 packet of dried onion soup<br />
1 cup beef broth (I use Better Than Bullion for my broth)<br />
8 carrots, cut in 3 inch slices<br />
6 potatoes, quartered<br />
1 med-large onion, sliced<br />
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Today I actually browned the roast.. I don't usually do that. But between the America's Test Kitchen show I saw last week, and the movie Julie and Julia.. or whatever it's called.. I decided I should brown it. So.. I tried that. I dusted each side with garlic salt and a few splashes of worcestershire sauce first. I threw the potatoes and carrots in the bottom of the crock, set the seared meat gently on top (doesn't that sound nicer if I write it that way?), salted and peppered the meat - just for good measure - sprinkled the onions on top, then poured on the mix of soups and broths. Put the lid on, set the temperature and TA DA!! Look! I cooked!<br />
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I'm going to have Sunshine help me make bread in the bread machine later today, call that Cooking for Kindergarten 101, and we'll have fresh bread with dinner too. Should be yummy.<br />
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If I remember, I'll take a picture of the finished product before we dig in!<br />
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Are you hungry yet?<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><br />
<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><br />
<div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-62761044436331904042010-10-30T13:32:00.000-06:002010-10-30T13:32:01.262-06:00Reminiscing and Birthdays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQAR8LrdE2XcvYCSx0HgfQobFCKGMy0t5lN6RxhUxLAru37nSydEm4GKTzdBvDeSjx_siUoSdj76Nq0S7nFgsJddA0f5XLrmKAP5ZqNJHHtyoupVfP0dz9CZo-IoyTgP2rjJjttEiTLI8/s1600/IMG_4803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>I've been spending a lot of time going through old pictures the last few days. I <i>should</i> be organizing them. But I'm not. I'm just having fun reminiscing.<br />
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This one was taken in May. Newbie was seven months old.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgYwg1EZXu_PyE-9eA5tPACEdCm-OmUvtCBGE4En6KQhlwjnJNtirG14c-meFcALmOMv1L9PG3E2uLYE9_NbgdiE91ZOM2mYWKv7f5hVwmnpvM207vMPNzB7AbGh1BJZVKiklm_dTCmM/s1600/IMG_4898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgYwg1EZXu_PyE-9eA5tPACEdCm-OmUvtCBGE4En6KQhlwjnJNtirG14c-meFcALmOMv1L9PG3E2uLYE9_NbgdiE91ZOM2mYWKv7f5hVwmnpvM207vMPNzB7AbGh1BJZVKiklm_dTCmM/s320/IMG_4898.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>These are from April. She was 6 months old.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNjBIHa2w93JJmhfE-xnYrV-Qd0QjjS1ebR-W6tV1fcni5WUJZmwdenMK9-S4CXO9UZdXHtZ2SrRXcutXTPu59mx78vKcxnxv7T-3Z2Vi0Bt845kvkhNihZNnanElIwTYoK0BRYjiceg/s1600/IMG_4753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNjBIHa2w93JJmhfE-xnYrV-Qd0QjjS1ebR-W6tV1fcni5WUJZmwdenMK9-S4CXO9UZdXHtZ2SrRXcutXTPu59mx78vKcxnxv7T-3Z2Vi0Bt845kvkhNihZNnanElIwTYoK0BRYjiceg/s320/IMG_4753.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Hello first tooth!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWHaFIxPD9B3Hx7PKntL4RUoxuBy8n-5jwl8qiuONbc3tLL13Ho35Nhy7GNQJ7VHPma_yUuoc_ekz0AMLk-fOBaPANTRc3_TD3dQHzIeJX2DO1qq2VI8BcvfBSjW2zmliaY8sLEkRmj8/s1600/IMG_4760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWHaFIxPD9B3Hx7PKntL4RUoxuBy8n-5jwl8qiuONbc3tLL13Ho35Nhy7GNQJ7VHPma_yUuoc_ekz0AMLk-fOBaPANTRc3_TD3dQHzIeJX2DO1qq2VI8BcvfBSjW2zmliaY8sLEkRmj8/s320/IMG_4760.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>*Gasp!* <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UgN1iKJ4EvK1Qm-YeIsepep-YfptLCA12ttkQMBwIDnCOi1wTgGcJ2WWyiYFq6fBvZHvwO3pN0uXPPnP3zvev4kyVdf7MC8wDhYbCYAcn7fwYoyeJbD3FlwGp0JiIwNqfgOqXVOeO5o/s1600/IMG_4772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UgN1iKJ4EvK1Qm-YeIsepep-YfptLCA12ttkQMBwIDnCOi1wTgGcJ2WWyiYFq6fBvZHvwO3pN0uXPPnP3zvev4kyVdf7MC8wDhYbCYAcn7fwYoyeJbD3FlwGp0JiIwNqfgOqXVOeO5o/s320/IMG_4772.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Sweet little hands going for sweet little feet. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBloN10hcW3hgO7diPOm2l2LA3kfylySKeyAlhcCdrXE93rfqDUNII4rM1aQRky7NhTI4XgzS5oOeDsV2HchEiJ9FehiOjf-Gy61aKGyORAnuworsFfI18QJCVV1cps5Zbowdp7qZwXLI/s1600/IMG_4775bw.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBloN10hcW3hgO7diPOm2l2LA3kfylySKeyAlhcCdrXE93rfqDUNII4rM1aQRky7NhTI4XgzS5oOeDsV2HchEiJ9FehiOjf-Gy61aKGyORAnuworsFfI18QJCVV1cps5Zbowdp7qZwXLI/s320/IMG_4775bw.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>:)<br />
<br />
Newbie doesn't have to wear her 'stickers' anymore. <!----> No more clunky oxygen machine!<br />
<br />
These are from April too, at Tank's 3rd birthday party.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5t7PcQiyhYFx21Id_jZYlLkqijW9PrEE0Sr4wElwcc4HUaLLLunUXnFsMT-ai4xFlnB_mS6hVhBSigc8DnpQATNiVkUC101JHNB5DKBcklGzHlsEePXY0Ns711Dxpf0E5l3X9v5Pdco/s1600/IMG_4795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5t7PcQiyhYFx21Id_jZYlLkqijW9PrEE0Sr4wElwcc4HUaLLLunUXnFsMT-ai4xFlnB_mS6hVhBSigc8DnpQATNiVkUC101JHNB5DKBcklGzHlsEePXY0Ns711Dxpf0E5l3X9v5Pdco/s320/IMG_4795.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Sunshine (looking over my shoulder): Who is that?<br />
Me: It's you, silly!<br />
Sunshine: Oh is that me when I was four?<br />
Me: Yup!<br />
(He does look young, doesn't he!)<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQAR8LrdE2XcvYCSx0HgfQobFCKGMy0t5lN6RxhUxLAru37nSydEm4GKTzdBvDeSjx_siUoSdj76Nq0S7nFgsJddA0f5XLrmKAP5ZqNJHHtyoupVfP0dz9CZo-IoyTgP2rjJjttEiTLI8/s1600/IMG_4803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQAR8LrdE2XcvYCSx0HgfQobFCKGMy0t5lN6RxhUxLAru37nSydEm4GKTzdBvDeSjx_siUoSdj76Nq0S7nFgsJddA0f5XLrmKAP5ZqNJHHtyoupVfP0dz9CZo-IoyTgP2rjJjttEiTLI8/s320/IMG_4803.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Yay! We blew out the candles!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1SY7YNBLaSraKo0Tv2rRdjOmUe4MYffpXp1b01Cpf7jbFKiranMn-ITHSCDUfT29v3rEg7-jjuHzqeC-yXsuUEV-BwQOlVjSXUCSUqEfk8i31bRvZzHJOgwcsABzZH30jX1ZTZeQ5YQ/s1600/IMG_4786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1SY7YNBLaSraKo0Tv2rRdjOmUe4MYffpXp1b01Cpf7jbFKiranMn-ITHSCDUfT29v3rEg7-jjuHzqeC-yXsuUEV-BwQOlVjSXUCSUqEfk8i31bRvZzHJOgwcsABzZH30jX1ZTZeQ5YQ/s320/IMG_4786.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Here's the awesome b-day cake. Look! Optimus is picking Tank's nose!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhejbH4UpsGrnt1QxTrlpZELREN5mGl0PgOyQN_BX7DW399TAFCq0-79S3IbVKVtwU0r-SwASW3J95vej9QtVFqUe1HNhobwpYz3L5nvdsfPIkZXV3ZqJ1UwrPIzlIq2Ht95aJM7PZJP04/s1600/IMG_5403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhejbH4UpsGrnt1QxTrlpZELREN5mGl0PgOyQN_BX7DW399TAFCq0-79S3IbVKVtwU0r-SwASW3J95vej9QtVFqUe1HNhobwpYz3L5nvdsfPIkZXV3ZqJ1UwrPIzlIq2Ht95aJM7PZJP04/s320/IMG_5403.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Here's one from Sunshine's 5th b-day in June. He had a bunch of his buddies from preschool come and they played at the playground.<br />
I got him a Spiderman Ice-cream cake.<br />
<br />
For an outdoor party.<br />
In the afternoon. <br />
It was like, 90 degrees or something by the time the party started.<br />
I'm smart.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6VL4z87dUwvZ1tk4RSxDSgz6Vs5bBa99XLW4VTS9au1eabQ1bDELDKJlVznV5qz09q8xhcCDzkcAMaHLQrduv3VGJAnpybF1EhfHZjuVyiX8F30XbgpX15LTn2G9XlHL8XZHR_GgpAA/s1600/IMG_5365_smudge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6VL4z87dUwvZ1tk4RSxDSgz6Vs5bBa99XLW4VTS9au1eabQ1bDELDKJlVznV5qz09q8xhcCDzkcAMaHLQrduv3VGJAnpybF1EhfHZjuVyiX8F30XbgpX15LTn2G9XlHL8XZHR_GgpAA/s320/IMG_5365_smudge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>It melted.<br />
<br />
Since we're doing birthdays... here's Newbie on her first birthday this month!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbshmzj2mU7WKMBtyzpkC7LcD5LEDNjHLJ9sPsQRniS1ywUV66traF5KH8dkMXJXeWvriyyh2x9wbnQSdShml9cMGxcuYd0FB8l6YssRblUn3dOFCfpTURp2_NRTRhImF5za9umQ63JTk/s1600/IMG_5727resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbshmzj2mU7WKMBtyzpkC7LcD5LEDNjHLJ9sPsQRniS1ywUV66traF5KH8dkMXJXeWvriyyh2x9wbnQSdShml9cMGxcuYd0FB8l6YssRblUn3dOFCfpTURp2_NRTRhImF5za9umQ63JTk/s320/IMG_5727resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
She got two cakes. One was a round flower one that I didn't get a shot of. The other was this one, made by her Auntie. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhXEsNG_oCjh5dV4V7H6_g6IscvBKsDrekfLrKCIZCLzMWXPgWQKEny-JLuQjTsbg-KOygCCQ0UtKdLU4ZrXCJrQJvApD98nT21kUXsUBQkcX5U2unk287gRFv5mcxhzWXJHgXx7TsaGw/s1600/IMG_5728resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhXEsNG_oCjh5dV4V7H6_g6IscvBKsDrekfLrKCIZCLzMWXPgWQKEny-JLuQjTsbg-KOygCCQ0UtKdLU4ZrXCJrQJvApD98nT21kUXsUBQkcX5U2unk287gRFv5mcxhzWXJHgXx7TsaGw/s320/IMG_5728resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Auntie also made Tank's transformer's cake.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMSUoMx6eIMwnZomsD1EAw-jiCH3VmUA7-ECB_eF3eY4PP_CTfLeWzCt0g7ClEweS1q-Shg7Xzz2mjAzYIOMnzQbRtbwMV8kBmZc1OfbU-DtJDIF1F9mChe-_SrhQ7jrH_Lbcdpx7lkI/s1600/IMG_5759resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMSUoMx6eIMwnZomsD1EAw-jiCH3VmUA7-ECB_eF3eY4PP_CTfLeWzCt0g7ClEweS1q-Shg7Xzz2mjAzYIOMnzQbRtbwMV8kBmZc1OfbU-DtJDIF1F9mChe-_SrhQ7jrH_Lbcdpx7lkI/s320/IMG_5759resize.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Turning 1 is tough....<br />
<br />
So that was fun, right?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-54875081115462694072010-10-27T12:44:00.000-06:002010-10-27T12:44:12.110-06:00Sunshine in the Fall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIO_V6-AEirCBOOoekhVPMhSvnEIh0nYEQrUMPD1tJqk3lM5R7D9WSfobVNEL72bGgIDyFIGkToTzTrtK7fSbV5AI72QNH6MAx1VL-So5eFIaOHrlBP9aqa5YRLcbrYuq2foh6BEHUjj8/s1600/IMG_5831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIO_V6-AEirCBOOoekhVPMhSvnEIh0nYEQrUMPD1tJqk3lM5R7D9WSfobVNEL72bGgIDyFIGkToTzTrtK7fSbV5AI72QNH6MAx1VL-So5eFIaOHrlBP9aqa5YRLcbrYuq2foh6BEHUjj8/s400/IMG_5831.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Sunshine started kindergarten this year. That's my excuse, by the way. For my absence.<br />
It's a valid excuse because I'm homeschooling.<br />
And it's the hardest thing I've ever done.<br />
<br />
Ever.<br />
<br />
Giving birth is easier and less straining on my mind and body than homeschooling.<br />
<br />
And I've even got a <i>smart</i> kid to work with.<br />
<br />
<i>Oh thank you, Lord.. for giving me smart children.</i><br />
<br />
It's hard, but I'm positive this is the path God wants me to walk. I'm stubborn enough, I don't think I'd learn persistence, patience, or discipline any other way. God knew this about me and even though I fight it tooth and nail on a daily basis, He has given me the very clear calling to homeschool.<br />
<br />
Frightening, isn't it?<br />
<br />
All the hard work (all 8 weeks of it so far) comes with great reward. Math hasn't been an issue. It's fun and easy for Sunshine and it's just a matter of working through the curriculum. But even though it's comparatively easy, it's still such a great feeling to hear him count to 200.. and then hear him count in 10's and 5's.. and then ask to learn to count in 2's. I'm actually trying to give him enough to keep him busy and entertained in this subject.<br />
<br />
Reading and writing on the other hand.. has been more of a challenge. It's a whole lot of memorization and as I'm teaching Sunshine all the sounds that go with all the different letters and letter combinations, I've come to a decision.<br />
<br />
English is stupid.<br />
Why did we think it would be <i>smart</i> or <i>useful</i> or <i>anything but completely ridiculous</i> to give a single sound so many different spellings?! And a single letter combination so many different sounds?!?!<br />
<blockquote><br />
<div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Dear History of the English language,</span></div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">I want a rewrite. I thank you in advance for your rush to fulfill my request.</div><div style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Looking forward to your reply,</div><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">Concerned American Homeschooling Mom</span></blockquote>I've got the whole history of English available to me.. and I get why we have all these different rules with exceptions and so on with how the language developed. But it's still stupid and I think it would be a lot easier to homeschool if we were speaking German instead of English. And maybe Americans wouldn't appear so dumb if English wasn't such a difficult language to master.<br />
<br />
So there.<br />
<br />
Rant over.<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Meanwhile.. back at the farm.. </i><br />
<br />
Sunshine <i>loves </i>to read and has been begging me for a year to learn. So we finally started this Fall and he's actually doing very very well! He's so proud of himself when he can sit and read a book to himself. He's sounding out all kinds of words and starting to point out words he knows when we're out and about now.<br />
<br />
Writing is tedious, but he's doing a fantastic job. I'm really amazed at how much growth I've seen in the last couple of months...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNZXPLswrOR6rB-2HOkAx6GWXqeAslXCna83bPYDQ5WkcSzAnSEef_lasPGdhAFxUfGuA4E2wB1MMmh6H9FZ295HEFSZFdfAvgv-p15Ry2lQYHQZeDOo7uDOHAdHbPOcjvUd9jhQGh0M/s1600/IMG_5829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNZXPLswrOR6rB-2HOkAx6GWXqeAslXCna83bPYDQ5WkcSzAnSEef_lasPGdhAFxUfGuA4E2wB1MMmh6H9FZ295HEFSZFdfAvgv-p15Ry2lQYHQZeDOo7uDOHAdHbPOcjvUd9jhQGh0M/s320/IMG_5829.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>And.. speaking of growth...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Gy3f55q0Qs5VWd9xBh6sHYtSRrJQzMGm8Ugy0EuOy6Au6cQGTsRdB4szIKwuv__2NuYgXZ6LfBeN0nqil8H0lrdja2jTab9PSijACySPSy_Eh3XR5SZYtaH9XvKjnWihd3djWTAVVFE/s1600/IMG_5822resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Gy3f55q0Qs5VWd9xBh6sHYtSRrJQzMGm8Ugy0EuOy6Au6cQGTsRdB4szIKwuv__2NuYgXZ6LfBeN0nqil8H0lrdja2jTab9PSijACySPSy_Eh3XR5SZYtaH9XvKjnWihd3djWTAVVFE/s320/IMG_5822resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Look at this kid! He just got that shirt a few months ago for his 5th birthday and he's almost outgrown it.<br />
<br />
The child eats more than I do.<br />
<br />
And I'm not even exaggerating! <br />
Last night, he ate a whole can of Spaghettio's and a package of fruit snacks. He got up from the table and said, "Mom, I'm still hungry."<br />
<br />
I'm afraid. Very afraid. I might actually have to start cooking huge meals for every meal, just to keep him satisfied.<br />
<br />
The kid is 5! What am I going to do when he's 15??<br />
<br />
Eek!<br />
<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-11011463179621832582010-10-27T11:45:00.001-06:002010-10-27T11:46:02.853-06:00DaredevilAugust?!<br />
<br />
Really?!?!<br />
<br />
Can it really have been so long?<br />
<br />
Sorry.<br />
<br />
Sooo.... (awkward pause)<br />
Newbie walks now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbcBZYME7sZUS_dWqikM3SGAhtlFAS6GW_CgN3R_axK3QYb1uQwN5-oQik4x-YwMoi0BWvBvjOrzUEOLvVKHIyCZuQmMb2wyB8P8qolaqu_blF1NCyzaLyElgQKVVX2DRSQIpaTH9l6I/s1600/IMG_5762resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbcBZYME7sZUS_dWqikM3SGAhtlFAS6GW_CgN3R_axK3QYb1uQwN5-oQik4x-YwMoi0BWvBvjOrzUEOLvVKHIyCZuQmMb2wyB8P8qolaqu_blF1NCyzaLyElgQKVVX2DRSQIpaTH9l6I/s320/IMG_5762resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>And she totally loves it, as you can see by the huge smile on her face!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguoTWrJfSRAm5HBJCC8TKN7FZZkOEHotd9ge7z9kYKXSKdRkYDuRSH92Dweq012VfNA3sTNTcwtI9OC9vDTAN8HRJgeD3tDcRM8_SzG4IarI7gVM3wNYXxiDpBBoEZ0R2cScONKAbVvhM/s1600/IMG_5820resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguoTWrJfSRAm5HBJCC8TKN7FZZkOEHotd9ge7z9kYKXSKdRkYDuRSH92Dweq012VfNA3sTNTcwtI9OC9vDTAN8HRJgeD3tDcRM8_SzG4IarI7gVM3wNYXxiDpBBoEZ0R2cScONKAbVvhM/s320/IMG_5820resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflH5_LaqfZRR2dWhHqjHVj8F8VpDfbSTgNWqyT4TrrpI8u_xax3LL7-iGC9G4GURHyIYSUa5NLHpUmtGfTxxd9ewBf6TnjUiYlxyxJl3yZpstidoNaYjIrPm_gylMJ7zQCq2x7QvNmow/s1600/IMG_5807resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflH5_LaqfZRR2dWhHqjHVj8F8VpDfbSTgNWqyT4TrrpI8u_xax3LL7-iGC9G4GURHyIYSUa5NLHpUmtGfTxxd9ewBf6TnjUiYlxyxJl3yZpstidoNaYjIrPm_gylMJ7zQCq2x7QvNmow/s320/IMG_5807resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GT3gwrcc7g2fMJ3sHELExJpwMUhXRkXiRykVX1odYxPLrCPIVYLsicqcksAIiyLSf2E2y8GakTKxbHbAcRmOnCaS_H6tkM8COo8U46Ub11Hyh2nCyNbB4aqecE1qPHiroPk0CW998-M/s1600/IMG_5809resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GT3gwrcc7g2fMJ3sHELExJpwMUhXRkXiRykVX1odYxPLrCPIVYLsicqcksAIiyLSf2E2y8GakTKxbHbAcRmOnCaS_H6tkM8COo8U46Ub11Hyh2nCyNbB4aqecE1qPHiroPk0CW998-M/s320/IMG_5809resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pcTwb73eFWTQwAWwz8yKs-lBRp34W8n23FDm6AzZ8X3F02k0sv7NojzsLZMDTNvTMCdOeCjEsJri9TN8DdNrI-Cy7pL3K6HFWSylr21hU00K-UHD_yA3FS09peB5d6MPzmzc7VRSr_I/s1600/IMG_5811resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pcTwb73eFWTQwAWwz8yKs-lBRp34W8n23FDm6AzZ8X3F02k0sv7NojzsLZMDTNvTMCdOeCjEsJri9TN8DdNrI-Cy7pL3K6HFWSylr21hU00K-UHD_yA3FS09peB5d6MPzmzc7VRSr_I/s320/IMG_5811resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><span style="color: black;">I love how her hands are up in the air like that..</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;">I don't love this...</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtLQcD6eKXI4vLD9ZSA7SCYzFnr8X6PjYaxeNcdkKZ3lTwMlVlT4kNMMdnPzBXSx73I6RqWhotmrXN3hYX43VjQvvXVZIv8Gi0NVaclTjK68_-8jFSpw0tPzLj7-cAFiCPFoPe_Cg1Zc/s1600/IMG_5783resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtLQcD6eKXI4vLD9ZSA7SCYzFnr8X6PjYaxeNcdkKZ3lTwMlVlT4kNMMdnPzBXSx73I6RqWhotmrXN3hYX43VjQvvXVZIv8Gi0NVaclTjK68_-8jFSpw0tPzLj7-cAFiCPFoPe_Cg1Zc/s320/IMG_5783resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Okay, so Sunshine wanted in.. and Newbie is sitting sweetly on her Choo-Choo train. I don't mind that..<br />
<br />
It's <i>this</i>. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhYb9YrwQcIBRdVR7JmJQxb-afnMHJaBgb5B8jSSya1dMA47IvLCUF7fKxyk6gKsh5Uk_NhFtkeTNvEjy0SpuROSl6AM4BnVGJjBplAtpiZWtS8Q8IcswQgNNhWITS-m6ad4EW-xv1X8/s1600/IMG_5785resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhYb9YrwQcIBRdVR7JmJQxb-afnMHJaBgb5B8jSSya1dMA47IvLCUF7fKxyk6gKsh5Uk_NhFtkeTNvEjy0SpuROSl6AM4BnVGJjBplAtpiZWtS8Q8IcswQgNNhWITS-m6ad4EW-xv1X8/s320/IMG_5785resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Climbing up on her train..<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8izP4f2OkFhg0OC_PkPQS4l5cmKaiodnSsM6Dx_69SEHflid_Z3_r4E_iMrkXdOlwC-6rrCooHyXPBRYnG6uyapej4zXvmY4u1JroCS9RaYA805zZ5FAfjMIoDb3sCuVcJaptyc6ZUg/s1600/IMG_5786resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8izP4f2OkFhg0OC_PkPQS4l5cmKaiodnSsM6Dx_69SEHflid_Z3_r4E_iMrkXdOlwC-6rrCooHyXPBRYnG6uyapej4zXvmY4u1JroCS9RaYA805zZ5FAfjMIoDb3sCuVcJaptyc6ZUg/s320/IMG_5786resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> Standing up and posing for a picture...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZOJN2pGZghhfMilMLZRj5u3JYJqkb7lsDK-XU7EnZIw_lUvyypOdXix_gyTbTedb4LbmcnuNfJZuceTBnELZajftlveo1uN-j8m4-Ry6T9Haw9rqyalUL4x1Rjub5yXsW5fWo6w4Faas/s1600/IMG_5791resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZOJN2pGZghhfMilMLZRj5u3JYJqkb7lsDK-XU7EnZIw_lUvyypOdXix_gyTbTedb4LbmcnuNfJZuceTBnELZajftlveo1uN-j8m4-Ry6T9Haw9rqyalUL4x1Rjub5yXsW5fWo6w4Faas/s320/IMG_5791resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> And then shaking the train back and forth trying to get it to move...<br />
I don't like it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOt52l666j7mh2CkHliubkgz0RY1Z9lXlmMgW5hVPo-PqeTZVzmHZHrOfH8UVGNY0_t6-7_IX7gBVzu3zomGDFKFS5cP5q3C_L7KBcRpFL8vrfiZAcnTfjNZuBNz-djnvSrFpH5xaI7M/s1600/IMG_5797resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBOt52l666j7mh2CkHliubkgz0RY1Z9lXlmMgW5hVPo-PqeTZVzmHZHrOfH8UVGNY0_t6-7_IX7gBVzu3zomGDFKFS5cP5q3C_L7KBcRpFL8vrfiZAcnTfjNZuBNz-djnvSrFpH5xaI7M/s320/IMG_5797resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><span style="color: black;"> Newbie is turning into a monster baby...</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECYsEW7wcPJdf-QdKvEdTKXpo1JhIwYbBmyfDj8RHgVCzgvkwNxSmcPuHjXi1ki9q8kx1vq-3HOxYSkGp614h4m-MD6CgcwIZWA62irT1vCv5odlzA1DvYxj8Vw0aJ_li2ONqhn9Uigw/s1600/IMG_5776resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECYsEW7wcPJdf-QdKvEdTKXpo1JhIwYbBmyfDj8RHgVCzgvkwNxSmcPuHjXi1ki9q8kx1vq-3HOxYSkGp614h4m-MD6CgcwIZWA62irT1vCv5odlzA1DvYxj8Vw0aJ_li2ONqhn9Uigw/s320/IMG_5776resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">I know... how can I call that beautiful face a monster baby?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRur-ntja4XLrCgGTm1vc36_dWPgrhyzq_CyjeWWcQFlLNCPLxhouhpe8L6gECYNY2s-OiMYHCu5B16cWXPxTRey0uuyRDvmcIbrdiY49PIP2zp4zcW9wtSeyv2-9Yck9Me-4wKTxiHwQ/s1600/IMG_5792resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRur-ntja4XLrCgGTm1vc36_dWPgrhyzq_CyjeWWcQFlLNCPLxhouhpe8L6gECYNY2s-OiMYHCu5B16cWXPxTRey0uuyRDvmcIbrdiY49PIP2zp4zcW9wtSeyv2-9Yck9Me-4wKTxiHwQ/s320/IMG_5792resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">SIT DOWN NEWBIE!!! </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-DONPGH64Dz_Hn4cAJzk51-b_-hlAIxGxyJ2eTkCfYeIpRXQnXoMhzlOFHqU5GUBzs0nsTn0slQQqn8TePhYHt018lIJi1qR5gmLek73Ab6RzlRICC7mskKT6I2p8HpLLFcapREM5Uc/s1600/IMG_5801resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-DONPGH64Dz_Hn4cAJzk51-b_-hlAIxGxyJ2eTkCfYeIpRXQnXoMhzlOFHqU5GUBzs0nsTn0slQQqn8TePhYHt018lIJi1qR5gmLek73Ab6RzlRICC7mskKT6I2p8HpLLFcapREM5Uc/s320/IMG_5801resize.JPG" width="213" /></a></div> At least the dog listens...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyO25xHiddRl0KLgldzcCDoY6mkEzX-MF6HxAib1pqkjIkfftHlmmfVDcTbhuLMd17IT5CwBrjURjXhBrEG2bWhxDXXCoVNMb-dHkUgpoHR1Qa-Z-UbQ-CiUUTGi5m-BNxrC_7cWjc0jI/s1600/IMG_5804resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyO25xHiddRl0KLgldzcCDoY6mkEzX-MF6HxAib1pqkjIkfftHlmmfVDcTbhuLMd17IT5CwBrjURjXhBrEG2bWhxDXXCoVNMb-dHkUgpoHR1Qa-Z-UbQ-CiUUTGi5m-BNxrC_7cWjc0jI/s320/IMG_5804resize.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> And does her very best to protect my daredevil daughter...<br />
<br />
See what you've missed?<br />
<span style="color: black;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtLQcD6eKXI4vLD9ZSA7SCYzFnr8X6PjYaxeNcdkKZ3lTwMlVlT4kNMMdnPzBXSx73I6RqWhotmrXN3hYX43VjQvvXVZIv8Gi0NVaclTjK68_-8jFSpw0tPzLj7-cAFiCPFoPe_Cg1Zc/s1600/IMG_5783resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRur-ntja4XLrCgGTm1vc36_dWPgrhyzq_CyjeWWcQFlLNCPLxhouhpe8L6gECYNY2s-OiMYHCu5B16cWXPxTRey0uuyRDvmcIbrdiY49PIP2zp4zcW9wtSeyv2-9Yck9Me-4wKTxiHwQ/s1600/IMG_5792resize.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-26514789094944253442010-08-09T23:38:00.000-06:002010-08-09T23:38:44.950-06:00Sweet MessTons of fun.<br />
<br />
Tons of love.<br />
<br />
Tons of laughs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPX3eizqoMf4RfFQIwPK_uNuOZbGd8CMAZeK8mltI27fQGatXJ7RkXy4wpSz3hC_k-ead0_MH21gK0WzCsJekuTQiyl-vzNxUvDRbg7r7-ZVp9MzcCyIrAdAZg06sDC4Jihfd5xgf1R8s/s1600/SweetMessrotate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPX3eizqoMf4RfFQIwPK_uNuOZbGd8CMAZeK8mltI27fQGatXJ7RkXy4wpSz3hC_k-ead0_MH21gK0WzCsJekuTQiyl-vzNxUvDRbg7r7-ZVp9MzcCyIrAdAZg06sDC4Jihfd5xgf1R8s/s400/SweetMessrotate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
And tons of sugar on my stove top. Holy sweet mess, <leo_highlight id="leoHighlights_Underline_0" leohighlights_keywords="batman" leohighlights_underline="true" leohighlights_url_bottom="http%3A//shortcuts.thebrowserhighlighter.com/leonardo/plugin/highlights/3_2/tbh_highlightsBottom.jsp?keywords%3Dbatman%26domain%3Dwww.blogger.com" leohighlights_url_top="http%3A//shortcuts.thebrowserhighlighter.com/leonardo/plugin/highlights/3_2/tbh_highlightsTop.jsp?keywords%3Dbatman%26domain%3Dwww.blogger.com" onclick="leoHighlightsHandleClick('leoHighlights_Underline_0')" onmouseout="leoHighlightsHandleMouseOut('leoHighlights_Underline_0')" onmouseover="leoHighlightsHandleMouseOver('leoHighlights_Underline_0')" style="-moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-size: auto auto; background-attachment: scroll; background-color: transparent; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 50%; background-repeat: repeat; border-bottom: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 150); cursor: pointer; display: inline;">Batman</leo_highlight>!<br />
<br />
Moments before this unfortunate event, Tons - my baby sister - and I were wiping up a smaller spill from the stove top.. maybe 1/4 cup.. and discussing how it's actually kind of hard to get sugar off of a stove top like mine because of the lip-edge that comes up over the ceramic. I ran upstairs to put Newbie down to bed. When I came down Tons had her head in her hands and was moaning. I kinda thought she was going to puke all over herself when I noticed a mountain of sugar on my stove.<br />
<br />
Why is there so much sugar on my stove? Did she dump the whole thing out trying to sweeten her tea?<br />
<br />
"I totally melted your sugar container," Tons confessed.<br />
<br />
Why did she do that?<br />
<br />
"I didn't know the burner was hot."<br />
<br />
"You mean.. the burner from which I just took a boiling kettle of water to pour into your tea cup? That burner? You didn't know it was hot?"<br />
<br />
"No! I was distracted... by the previous spilling of sugar."<br />
<br />
"You mean.. when you poured sugar into your tea and missed?"<br />
<br />
"That's SO not what happened! I didn't miss! The big pour spout wasn't closed all the way!" There was a brief pause here.. "Oh my gosh.. I'm so sorry."<br />
<br />
So then, naturally, I grabbed my camera. Notice the "hot surface" light is on. Notice the spiky plastic melt at the edge of the bottom of the container. Notice the I'm-About-To-Cry look on my sister's face. I couldn't let her cry. It was too awesome! And I'd finally have something to blog about.<br />
<br />
Not that there isn't plenty going on. I'll save that for a future blog, lest it take away from the hilarity of my sister.<br />
<br />
She is the baby of my 5 half-sisters. She's been staying with us for the last 3 weeks, and leaves for home on Saturday. I have cherished each moment she has spent with us this summer. I even had the privilege of singing a special with her at church. (Apparently, she was so nervous that she looked like she was going to puke all over herself on stage. Wouldn't that be embarrassing? And what's with all the sickness? The world may never know.)<br />
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</script> </span>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-46117501237233756302010-07-15T15:50:00.000-06:002010-07-15T15:50:25.252-06:00Summary of a Road TripIt probably wasn't the wisest decision I could've made.. you know... the one where I decided to go on a 3-week-long road trip.. with 3 young kids... and without my hard-working husband. Really, what was I thinking?<br />
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It got interesting even before we left.. because 2 days before take-off Newbie was diagnosed with pneumonia of all things!! I KNOW!! (She's better now by the way.)<br />
Along the way we've encountered a random bout of diarrhea (poor Sunshine - was on the B.R.A.T. diet for 3 days and only got to drink chocolate soy milk), potty regression (thank you Tank), and tons of poop-splosions from Newbie. What's with all the potty trouble on the road trip, hm?<br />
<br />
Really though, it's been an amazing time. I didn't get pulled over once (so far) and I've driven about 2000 miles by now! I got to see some of my favorite friends and God really worked me over while I was with them. He really brought me some peace through these friends.<br />
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I also got to see my Gramma, the coolest Gramma who ever lived because she's confessed to me all the stories of her crazy antics as a youngster and beyond. She also rode a motorcycle. Yup. She's that cool. (She's probably reading this too. But I'm not just brown-nosing. She can attest to the time I called her a "Cool Gramma" when I was younger.) I also got to meet my Gramma's partner in crime, which was so neat after hearing all the stories of the trouble they stir up together.<br />
<br />
Oh!! I also got to experience Small-Town Texas at it's best!!!! So.. here's a little side-story for y'all. *wink* On my way into Ft. Worth, I stopped in a town called Bowie (said "boo-ee" like the knife, not "bow-ee" like the David). I'd heard that the Dairy Queens in Texas had more than just ice cream (really?) and pulled up to the town DQ. And everyone was staring at me. They stared at me when I walked in.. when I set my 3 kids down at a table.. when I ordered... every move I made, I was being watched. Of course, plenty of people oo-ed and aw-ed at my little Newbie, because she's only the cutest little baby anyone had ever seen this side of the Panhandle.. *wink* But anyway.. I was worried that maybe people in Texas didn't have 3 kids.. or maybe they didn't wear spaghetti straps.. or maybe there was toilet paper sticking out of my pants that got stuck there at the last rest stop! It freaked. Me. Out.<br />
<br />
I got over it though.<br />
<br />
But then, on my way OUT of Ft. Worth, we stopped in Bowie again, but this time for breakfast. So we hit up the McDonald's, which was immediately next door to the DQ. The first thing I noticed was there weren't any parking spots left. Small town, small parking lot. Okay. But then, when I was on my way inside I was stared at again!! I got in the door and looked around and every single seat was taken. I'm not even kidding. It's McDonald's people! Not two steps in the door, a lady, prolly in her 60's, walks up to me and says, "Do you mind if I babysit the little one here while you order?" I didn't even finish stuttering over the first word, which was "uh," before she carried my Newbie to a table where she and another man had been sitting about 10 feet away. I nearly panicked, but reminded myself I was in Texas. Texans were different than the people in Colorado. <strike>Plus, she was older and I was younger, and the building was small and there was only one visible exit and I could totally run faster than her. And then I could sick Tank on her while I pried my sweet Newbie from her hands.</strike> I kept a close eye on them while I ordered. Newbie started to cry and I handed Strange Stranger Lady a bottle, and that made Newbie happy while I waited on the order. It finally came up and I took the tray and my boys and we walked toward the table as the man who'd been sitting with Strange Stranger Lady stood up and said, "I'm on my way out, have a seat. You take care now." It hit me then that Strange Stranger Lady and this man weren't married. We sat down and I noticed that everyone was talking to everyone. People were hanging over seats and talking over shoulders and laughing at someone's joke from across the room. And everyone was at least 60-something. It was like.. near-geriatric junior high.. people switching seats and laughing and everyone knew everyone. It dawned on me.. that's why they stared. I was clearly not from around here. It wasn't that I looked funny, it was that they didn't know me!<br />
Anyway.. breakfast was good and so was the conversation. I got to hang out with friendly people who loved my babies and thought I was crazy for liking the Texas sky as much or more than the Colorado mountains. And that's my Small-Town Texas Experience. Thank you very much. Now back to your regularly unscheduled blog post.<br />
<br />
So after some time in Texas, Land of the Awesome, we headed up to see Bond's family and spend some time with my dad and sisters, plus some old friends from college. (College friends are old now? Hm.) I've almost adjusted to the bitter cold and dryness of Colorado again. Maybe someday God will plant me in His Second Promised Land that Moses forgot to write about in the Bible... (okay, don't hit me!)<br />
<br />
I'm on the last leg of the trip now. Only two more "sleeps" and we get to drive the 5-hour trip home.. over four slow and twisty mountain passes. (At least I'm stealing my sister away and bringing her with me!) One of the joys of living and driving in Colorado: Everything takes longer because you're slowed down by some kind of road obstacle.. be that snow/ice, potholes from the snow/ice, construction to fix the potholes from the snow/ice, suicidal animals who hate the snow/ice, or twisty roads with gorgeous views behind the drop-off cliffs... that are covered in snow/ice 9 months out of the year. (Sunshine said the funniest thing on the way over the passes the first time when Tank said he was scared. "Don't worry Tank! Those pine trees will catch us if we fall!!" Apparently Tank isn't very enthusiastic about my ability to stay on the road. Thank you Tank.)<br />
<br />
This trip hasn't been as hard as people make it sound like it should be, but it's certainly been full of adventure.<br />
<br />
What.. you're mad because I don't have any pictures? When am I supposed to take pictures?! I'm on a crazy-long road trip all alone with my 3 young children! You think I'm Super Woman or something?! Yeesh!<br />
<br />
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<div id="refHTML"></div>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-12030075913040965712010-05-28T16:50:00.001-06:002010-05-28T16:55:00.165-06:00So Long, Gummy Smile - Part 3As life would have it, I haven't had much time to blog lately. What with Newbie's new crawling gig, Sunshine's completion of pre-school, and Tank's continued refusal to use the potty... I'm surprised I have time to sleep!!!<br />
<br />
*yawn*<br />
<br />
Oh wait...<br />
<br />
Anyway. :) I once wrote a blog entry called <a href="http://summersgigglespot.blogspot.com/2010/03/so-long-gummy-smile-part-1.html">"So Long, Gummy Smile - Part 1"</a>. This was like, March. I still need to write Part Deux.. you know, the one that usually comes after Part 1 and before Part 3.. but like I said.. haven't had the time. <br />
<br />
I still don't. But. Then I discovered THIS...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqT3GdyNPh0TXApjrf_BoUfhoyqYp7ayy-BHthvQHGNVzvRnjcLsfCUWpYTM05hbPkavekTT2t01Wuh5do-i7q5FTyqSjIE61zf8fPhuwsoixRLUeimU5WIt47ow0Bh6w5HX2O1-Zeuo/s1600/tonguetip.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqT3GdyNPh0TXApjrf_BoUfhoyqYp7ayy-BHthvQHGNVzvRnjcLsfCUWpYTM05hbPkavekTT2t01Wuh5do-i7q5FTyqSjIE61zf8fPhuwsoixRLUeimU5WIt47ow0Bh6w5HX2O1-Zeuo/s400/tonguetip.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
.. no no.. THIS..<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CcVvzPm4IQcpn69mhq-kNwkoD1jugZ28p_NP5jUrst8MehvKa6s4y__zU66cAOlN55gO6scXzZAl5x3txxy080vL0re20dHc7qnmnCcVjxeSu3IsGKDPQgulHbFxJJsHcc5JsgLKByo/s1600/finger.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CcVvzPm4IQcpn69mhq-kNwkoD1jugZ28p_NP5jUrst8MehvKa6s4y__zU66cAOlN55gO6scXzZAl5x3txxy080vL0re20dHc7qnmnCcVjxeSu3IsGKDPQgulHbFxJJsHcc5JsgLKByo/s400/finger.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Dang! Missed it! HERE!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrcy-URsJiE6zR1Hj8vk-BwXCPOq5efi1Ir8SSm4N25pjpV_pUxx_7-bB1pctj9dw4ZLlFj6oQRNdu2B57GCGom-5YQ3rP8UQ_tL_CThNu4wN7MbEJumoaRu8Qj1zAp40QGJE5QXRj6I/s1600/gotit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrcy-URsJiE6zR1Hj8vk-BwXCPOq5efi1Ir8SSm4N25pjpV_pUxx_7-bB1pctj9dw4ZLlFj6oQRNdu2B57GCGom-5YQ3rP8UQ_tL_CThNu4wN7MbEJumoaRu8Qj1zAp40QGJE5QXRj6I/s400/gotit.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Do you see it? Look closer!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrnWCEaQZku_r85EslqqJF8fmbOJ8a2L8blIZlaXeStyTzPRaKPahfMi76p2ubZJXhLJJ6pQ33Wx-aj-IUs84pjRNjN9t4cFviTfMNP5kdeu6LJaAMsydXDIAHk_J0kAn-YNijSz-U2c/s1600/gotitcloseup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrnWCEaQZku_r85EslqqJF8fmbOJ8a2L8blIZlaXeStyTzPRaKPahfMi76p2ubZJXhLJJ6pQ33Wx-aj-IUs84pjRNjN9t4cFviTfMNP5kdeu6LJaAMsydXDIAHk_J0kAn-YNijSz-U2c/s400/gotitcloseup.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The beginning of tooth number FOUR! And it's a top tooth!!!<br />
<br />
*whew!* That was hard! She did NOT want to give that one up! And it's still barely visible.. sorry.<br />
<br />
I discovered it during a recent (say, 5 minutes ago) game of hold-me-upside-down-and-make-me-smile-because-I'm-not-much-of-a-laugher.. so I just <i>had</i> to make time for Part 3.<br />
<br />
I have taken pictures that will be used in "So Long, Gummy Smile - Part Deux." I just haven't had time to edit and upload them. But with Topper here coming in.. I just HAD to post SOMETHING!!!<br />
<br />
So there!! Part Deux to come... someday. :)<br />
<input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="jsCall();" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-57571648168257788032010-05-10T10:33:00.001-06:002010-05-10T10:35:11.398-06:00You can call me Hot Rod (Hindsight is 20/20)Fact: 75 mph in a 60 mph zone is too fast.<br />
<br />
Fact: Lady cops will not let you off, no matter what, but especially not if you say something stupid.<br />
<br />
Fact: I am that. girl. who thinks of all the right things to say only <i>after</i> the time has come and gone to say them, and only after I said something stupid.<br />
<br />
Fact: I got a ticket on Thursday. Apparently everyone knew (except me) that if you go even 1 lousy mph too fast on this stretch of road you'll get pulled over and written up a "traffic citation."<br />
<br />
<i>Definition of a Traffic Citation: Lady Cop's whack at sounding smart in order to make you, driver, feel even more stupid as all the drivers in the cars you just impatiently passed whiz by and laugh at you.</i><br />
<br />
I saw her turn around and come to get me. I should've pulled over the moment I saw her turn around. Why bother make her chase me down with her stupid blinking lights? I could've done her a favor, maybe she'd have done me one then. But there was a tiny spark of hope left in my heart.. maybe it wasn't me she was after.<br />
<br />
Alas, after what felt like an eternity, she turned on those stupid blinking lights and I immediately groaned and pulled over, carefully turning on my clicker. <br />
<br />
"We're going to meet a real live cop today, kids!" I tried to make light of the situation. We'd already been driving for two to two-and-a-half hours.. the kids were as ready to be done with the trip as I was.<br />
<br />
"Why?" asked Sunshine, bluntly.<br />
<br />
"Well, Mommy was going too fast and the cop is going to give mommy a ticket."<br />
<br />
I continued explaining what a ticket was, etc, etc, as I reached into my wallet to pull out my ID, and into the glove box to get the insurance and registration. And then I sat and waited, looking out the window waiting for the cop to come and embarrass me.<br />
<br />
I startled at the sound of the knock.. she'd come to the passenger side. I silently wished I'd packed the passenger seat too full to open the window as I searched for the right button to roll it down. I handed her my papers before she even had time to say "hello."<br />
<br />
And then. <i>AND THEN</i> she told me I was going too fast and actually <i>asked</i> me why!!!!!!<br />
<br />
This was where I faltered.<br />
<br />
"Well Lady Cop, I don't particularly <i>like</i> driving and I was <i>obviously</i> trying to get to my destination sooner, so as to reduce my time on the road!" I could've said.<br />
<br />
"Lady Cop, I've got 3 kids and a <i>dog</i> back here. Wouldn't you be hurrying too?" I should've said.<br />
<br />
"Lady Cop, I know <i>you</i> don't have anywhere to be right now, or anything to do but make my day more miserable, but <i>I</i> actually have somewhere to be right now. So rather than ask me stupid questions to which you don't really want to know the answers, would you mind just giving me my ticket and letting me go?" I could've sassed.<br />
<br />
"Lady Cop, if you'd have kept driving, instead of pulling me over, you'd have seen the school bus I was stuck behind for 10 miles and the very long line of cars behind it. I legally passed him and decided to make up some time."<br />
<br />
or...<br />
<br />
"Lady Cop, if you'd have kept driving, instead of pulling me over, you'd have seen the school bus I was stuck behind for 10 miles and the very long line of cars behind it. I legally passed him and simply forgot to turn my cruise control back on."<br />
<br />
<i>She's asking me why I was going so fast?!</i> I was stunned. I paused. I couldn't think of ANYTHING.. not even the best truth!<br />
<br />
"Uh.. well I'm hoping to find a place with coffee.." I stuttered, "Because I'm really tired.." I moaned, laying my head down on the wheel, wishing I had an extra foot to stick in my mouth. <i>Oh no.. did I really just say that?! Anything but that!</i><br />
<br />
At least I stumped her for a moment. The response was so stupid it was contagious. She didn't say anything for the moment and then went on with the next thing I couldn't believe...<br />
<br />
"Well, you were going too fast for me to issue you a warning..." she spat. (She teased me with this possible truth a few times during our little "talk.")<br />
<br />
A warning? I could've said something witty here too... like..<br />
<br />
"Oh really? How fast would that have been? You know.. for next time."<br />
<br />
Or maybe..<br />
<br />
"Lady Cop, you wouldn't have bothered pulling me over if you <i>could have</i> issued me a warning. Let's face it, that's not your style. You're here to write tickets, and that's it."<br />
<br />
I could've tried this one..<br />
<br />
"Lady Cop, we both know that's not true. You cops can fudge anything on there you want to, and you do it all the time. You get to choose if you want to let me off with a warning.. but I was speeding with a car-full of kids. Of course you don't want to spare me and let me go. You're probably a mom too and hate that parents like me put ourselves and our children at risk by speeding. You want to make me sorry for what I did, not give me an excuse to do it again. Who cares if I could've bought more food or diapers for my children with the money I'm about to spend in your county paying your salary. Don't sit here and tell me you <i>can't</i> let me off with a warning, like it's something you can't control. Tell the truth. You don't <i>want</i> to and so you <i>won't</i>."<br />
<br />
I was still too stupefied by the first words that'd come out of my mouth, so I chose not to say anything at all for the rest of her scolding. She told me it would take awhile for her to write out my "citation" and left me there, where I finally cried. Poetically enough, it started raining too, so I closed the window.<br />
<br />
I think I sat there 20 minutes before she finally came back and told me all the nonsense about my brand new traffic citation. It was her explanation of the charges that confused me..<br />
<br />
"You were going 15 mph over, and that's a 4-point ticket," she pointed out. "It's $132 for [insert insulting cop explanation here] which is $32 for [insert more insulting cop explanation here] and $2.50 for DNA ---" <i>DNA?! What the heck is that?! I have my own! Why are you charging me for that?</i><br />
<br />
Seriously... it was like a cell phone bill.. all these extra hidden fees. Who knew? My total bill ended up being about $170. Do you know how many diapers I could've bought for $170?!<br />
<br />
She told me about how I get my points reduced by two if I pay it, and if I don't she showed me when and where I'd have to be at court. I should've asked..<br />
<br />
"So.. what's the benefit of going to court, other than seeing your lovely face again?"<br />
<br />
.. but I didn't. That was probably smart.<br />
<br />
She handed me my shiny new not-golden-win-a-trip-to-Willy-Wonka's-Chocolate-Factory ticket and told me to have a safe trip, or something. I began rolling up the window before she'd turned away, to show her how mad I was.. you know.. because she would care.. because Lady Cop had a heart. Not.<br />
<br />
(In hindsight, I wish I'd had my phone ready to take a picture of her before she left. If she would've asked why I snapped a photo of her, I would've told her I blogged and given her my blog address. I'd have told her I was about to make her famous as the meanest Lady Cop ever. Oh well.)<br />
<br />
As Lady Cop was walking away, my phone rang. It was my father-in-law. We were on our way to see him, by the way.<br />
<br />
"Hello?"<br />
<br />
"Hey, whatcha doin'?" he inquired.<br />
<br />
"Just got a ticket!" I blubbered... crumpling up my ticket and throwing it across the car like the trash it was. I flicked my clicker on, waited for remaining traffic to pass, and pulled back onto the road.. dreading the remaining three hours of my drive.<br />
<br />
And here begins all the ridiculing from my friends and family.. the laughter at my ticket location.. because <i>everyone</i> knows you'll get a ticket if you even hint at speeding there.. except me, of course. Oh well. Better luck next time.<br />
<br />
Haha! Just kidding, Mom. About next time, I mean.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-1118164181304310502010-04-20T14:47:00.003-06:002010-04-20T15:38:39.473-06:00Premature Buyer's Remorse"Premature Buyer's Remorse." Did you know that existed? It does. I've had it. Very recently, in fact.<br /><br />Before I went grocery shopping last night, I hit up Joann's to find some fabric to make a DIY Moby. I hardly looked at the fabric. I got caught up in the flowers. Those cute flower headbands at the store cost like $5 or $6 and that's just dumb. I see those and think, "I can <i>make</i> those way cheaper." And now that I have a girl, I really want to play with that stuff! Flowers and butterflies and pink and purple.. and cute little bows and barrettes. The barrettes have to wait a little longer.. Newbie needs hair first.. so I'm left with headbands. ANYWAY.<br />I stopped and stared at the daisies.. (as opposed to smelling the fake roses). I picked up several colors.. a couple different pinks and yellows.. reds and oranges.. even a blue one. And then I needed several colors of buttons of course, and those tiny beads so you couldn't see the ugly thread I would use to sew the buttons on with.. and then I needed a container to put the beads in....<br /><br />Suddenly I had a whole cart-full of stuff to make flower headbands and barrettes with. I figured I'd just give the extras to my nieces and friends with little girls.. or trendy friends who can totally get away with putting flowers in their hair.<br /><br />I got to the check-out and there was a line. I didn't make it very far into the line before getting a sinking feeling in my chest. I looked down at my collection of craft-able items and pouted.. knowing full well that I should not buy them. It took me an hour to hoard these things off the shelves.. to pick the best one of each item. Most things were even on sale.. 50% off or whatever. But I couldn't do it, and I spent the next 15 minutes redistributing my flower-making ingredients back to their rightful places in the store.<br /><br /><i>I don't have time to do this</i>, I thought.<br /><i>I still have bow-making stuff sitting in my basement</i>, I remembered.<br /><i>Bond would kill me</i>, I acknowledged.<br /><br />I still stand fake-flower free.<br /><br />And then today I went shopping while the boys were at school. First I went to Mardel's. I'd spent so much time in Joann's last night, that by the time I made it to Mardel's they had closed. I looked at all kinds of homeschooling things, lots and lots of books to review over the summer and really solidify their pre-math and pre-reading skills before we leap into it in the fall. Of course they had a ton of clearance things... I did pick up some $5 Veggie Tales movies for Tank and Sunshine's birthdays.. Tank's is next week. And I found a good Preschool Bible book to do with the kids over the summer to help get me into a nice homeschooling habit. But I stayed away from the music CD's, the new bibles, the very tempting "Jesus Loves Me" baby clothes. I did good.<br /><br />Old Navy was just down the strip from Mardel's. I'd picked out 3 $10 outfits for Newbie before putting them back and walking out. I sent some time in Hobby Lobby as well this morning, drooling over the fabric and wishing they had some headband ribbon so I could have an excuse to go get some flowers....<br /><br />I hit the mall next - I know.. did a ton of shopping in one day - and I wanted to see Gymboree. I love their stuff, but decided almost instantly that it was way too expensive. I'll have to wait for those things to go on clearance!<br /><br />I love shopping, especially without the boys. But it seems like every time I'm about to buy something I have remorse and put it back. It's a depressing feeling, and it's probably the reason I don't have any new clothes that keep up with today's styles.<br /><br />Yeah...<br /><br />That's my excuse for dressing like a slob.<br /><br />I get premature buyer's remorse. <br /><br />...<br /><br />I wonder if there's a cure for that?LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-41118890995194095372010-04-20T07:31:00.003-06:002010-04-20T07:53:53.050-06:00Who knew it was so easy?Do you remember Joey from <i>Blossom</i>?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwQLX38C90_Fy4wGviO4_pnum-xh9GWxmFcg7FKLm-qwSUUi85Q4KikRoUtgEs4mbOIMN_fkSsutakndhIMLNAJ0SxaafF1Pw7HLRMaQzb5a7hdcFHHf1CTPeU5J8XR6f5ZMxeMQxOV0/s1600/joey-blossom-six-joey.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 378px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfwQLX38C90_Fy4wGviO4_pnum-xh9GWxmFcg7FKLm-qwSUUi85Q4KikRoUtgEs4mbOIMN_fkSsutakndhIMLNAJ0SxaafF1Pw7HLRMaQzb5a7hdcFHHf1CTPeU5J8XR6f5ZMxeMQxOV0/s400/joey-blossom-six-joey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462217289695804882" /></a><br /><br />The high-pitched-for-a-boy "Whoa!" expression made itself present in my home this morning via Sunshine.<br /><br />Tank went downstairs first. I heard him get excited about something and then call upstairs for Sunshine in his cute almost-three-year-old voice, "You gotta come down here!"<br /><br />So Sunshine busted it downstairs...<br /><br />"Look at THIS! Donuts!" Tank cried.<br />"Whoa!" said Sunshine.<br />"And look! Cap'n Cwunch!"<br />"Whoa!"<br />"And we got Tiger Cereal too!" (That's our way of saying Frosted Flakes.)<br />"Whoa! And look! Little foods for Newbie too! This is gonna be so cool!"<br />I heard Tank climb onto my stool - yes I have a footstool in my kitchen. I'm <s>short</s> fun-sized. Be nice! - and gasp, "Bananas!"<br />"Whoa!"<br />"Look! It's our favoritests!" yelled Tank. I'm not sure what he was talking about.. what item was his "favoritests," but something dawned on me through my giggles.<br /><br />I need to go grocery shopping more often.<br /><br />These guys were more excited that there was breakfast food in the house than they were when they saw new presents under the tree Christmas morning. (And they hadn't even seen the yogurt in the fridge, or the chicken in the freezer!)<br /><br />They actually came upstairs to tell me there was food in the kitchen. Like.. no, I couldn't possibly have gone grocery shopping when the babysitter was there last night. Who knows what I was doing, but everyone knows I don't go grocery shopping. Ever.<br /><br />As I was pouring cereal for Sunshine he reminded me that we didn't have any milk. "You can have milk if you want it honey."<br /><br />"We have MILK TOO?! Wow Mom!" He ran and hugged me. "Thank you so much!"<br /><br />I wanted to cry for a few different reasons. One) That is too cute. I'm raising kids who know how to be thankful. Two) My kids are apparently going so hungry and are so used to there <i>not</i> being food in the house that it's a novelty and a reason to party like it's 1999. Three) Sunshine was standing on my toe.<br /><br />Haha. I used to think only the Wii could make my kids happy. But I was wrong. They're going to grow up to be real men, because even at this young age they're demonstrating that food is the way to win a man's heart.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-45350125103898432952010-04-19T16:08:00.003-06:002010-04-19T16:43:01.168-06:00Writer's BlockI had all kinds of interesting things to write about a few weeks ago. But then I got busy.. and as I try to remember those really interesting things.. they don't seem as interesting anymore. Alas.. time has dulled them.<br /><br />For example.. a few weeks ago Bond took me on a frightening motorcycle ride. I was seriously afraid for my life. The next day my entire body was sore because I was squeezing him so tight. I think Bond only suffered a few cracked ribs from my death grip.<br />He took us on the interstate on the way home from our movie ... at 11pm ... and it was. so. dark. As we sped home through the black, lines and lines of blog went through my head. I knew exactly what to write. Clearly, my sub-conscious knew I would survive the excursion, even if my consciousness was sure it would be the last night of my life. Or maybe thinking of blog lines was easier than thinking about my death.<br />So anyway.. I had a whole blog written up in my head. But I got busy and time erased it.<br /><br />It doesn't help when babies get sick either. Newbie.. did you know her hair stands up in a Mohawk after a swim? I kind of want to call her Moe now ..has been sick the last week. She hasn't been her smiley self and I hardly have time to go potty, much less pound out a decent write-up of some weird event in our lives.<br /><br />Do you like my lame excuses for not blogging?<br /><br />For a family update:<br />Sunshine is excited about homeschooling this fall. Much of my time recently has been spent hashing over curriculum. I'm not sure how some of these blogging homeschooling moms do it!<br />Tank is still potty training. 'Nuff said.<br />Newbie is getting well and has begun to push a second tooth through. The next installment of So Long Gummy Smile should be coming up soon... and soon may be next year. For the record... Because anytime I say "tomorrow" it ends up being another month or more before I write anything at all.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-19282516458609956502010-04-01T19:35:00.003-06:002010-04-01T20:09:06.317-06:00We're Back Online!Oh I have so missed writing here over the last few days...<br /><br />My computer died.<br /><br />Well, actually.. the batter died like, a year and a half ago... and a few days ago the power cord finally broke.<br /><br />So I was going to get a new power cord for like, $9 from Amazon.. but after reading all the reviews, and calling a techie place here in town.. I decided to just order one from HP. It only cost me an arm, a leg, and my first born child... <br /><br />I really do miss Sunshine...<br /><br />And typing is really slow...<br /><br />And you know.. walking... isn't going so great these days.<br /><br />But hey! I've got my computer up and running again. So hurray for that.<br /><br /><br />It's kind of sad, what I realized during my forced computer vacation. When I'm out there in the real world.. like, living my regular daily life.. I'm thinking about how I can blog about it. <br />My death-defying ride on Bond's motorcycle for instance.. (the blog will be posted at a later date.. either later tonight or tomorrow or something) .. the whole time I kept running different lines through my head. (Clearly, my subconscious had the intention of surviving the adventure, whilst the rest of my mind was certain it was the last night of my life.)<br />And then there's the decision to homeschool the kids.. yeah, once that was finally made I wondered how I'd write about it.. what angle I'd take.. etc, etc.<br />I think Bond might think this is unhealthy. Maybe it's a new beginning. <br />Like.. putting my thoughts into words.. maybe it'll help me think before I speak.<br />Mmh.. we'll see.<br /><br />...<br /><br />I wonder what I'd be doing these days if the internet had never been invented??LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-31473565741921297322010-03-27T08:18:00.008-06:002010-03-27T10:23:19.021-06:00Reason #214 I Like Being A ParentThis morning, my children made me laugh so hard I cried. Or maybe I was crying for a different reason. <br /><br />You decide. I'm tired of making the decisions around here.<br /><br />Tank and Sunshine rose early this morning. Like, before the sun.. which is <i>really</i> stinking early because we just had that stupid time change. The first words out of their mouths... "Can we play Wii?"<br /><br />My boys have a serious love affair with the Wii. I wanted the Wii for me, not for them. I knew they could play it too (unlike the PS3 and those nasty bloody-gory-kill-all games) so it was perfect! I could even work out with the Wii, and that was Bond's main motivation for getting it for me. It's a "work-out" system. Half the games we own are for work-out purposes. I haven't worked out with the Wii in three months.<br /><br />Mario dominates these days. Mario, Luigi and my boys.<br /><br />So this morning started like most mornings have started since Christmas, "Mom can we play the Wii?"<br /><br />And like most mornings since Christmas, I rolled over this morning and said, "No. Just watch cartoons."<br /><br />About an hour later (?) I woke up to a new argument between Tank and Sunshine.<br /><br />Sunshine: "I'm going to play Ice Age."<br />Tank: "I don't wan nu pway Icshe Agshe. I wan nu pway Marwio!"<br /><br />That went on for a moment and eventually turned into this...<br /><br />Sunshine: "If we don't play Ice Age.. then we're going to bleed and die and go to Heaven!" (I don't know where he gets this stuff...)<br />Tank: "No!"<br /><br />And this...<br /><br />Sunshine: "These are your choices: You can watch a movie. Or you can watch me play Wii."<br />Tank: "No! I wan nu pway Marwio!"<br />Sunshine: "That wasn't one of your choices!"<br /><br />And this...<br /><br />Sunshine: "If we don't play Ice Age.. then.. then.. you're not going to play at all!"<br />Tank: (PUNCH) "YOU don't get to pway!"<br /><br />Bond and I could hear every single word and instead of interrupting their escalating fight.. we laughed. We laughed SO hard! And we laughed even harder when they got into a Yes-No argument that played out so fast it could duel the Dueling Banjos routine.<br /><br />Yes-No-Yes-No-YesNoYesNoYesNOOOOYes<b>NOOOOO!</b>YES!(PUNCH)(Sunshine screams) ... you get the picture. Hilarity in it's rawest form.<br /><br />We've decided that Sunshine is the crooked politician. Like... where the heck was he coming up with these ridiculously outlandish threats? And did you like the choices he offered? "Here are your choices.. either I win, or I win." Not to mention.. they were arguing about which game they were going to play when, according to Mom, they weren't going to be playing ANY games. Just like the politician to base his argument off of something completely false, unfounded, and/or non-existent.<br /><br />Tank is the enforcer. He didn't like it, so he fought back. !(PUNCH)! "YOU don't get to pway!" So there! Hahaha!<br /><br />We also decided that Tank is going to be okay. I mean.. he was keeping up with Sunshine's lack of logic pretty well for someone 2 years his junior, which you'd think would be a huge disadvantage at this point! I mean, gee wiz. He's two! And he totally got that Sunshine was being completely unfair. Sunshine at that age was very gullible. "Okay," he would've said. Nope, not Tank. "Wrong!" (KA-POW!)<br /><br />Please don't take this post the wrong way. We eventually jumped into the parent role. The kids did get in trouble.. Sunshine for lying, Tank for hitting, and both for screaming and crying. We just decided to let things play out first. We deserve to be entertained once in a while, right?LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-15516342828305340222010-03-25T12:57:00.013-06:002010-03-25T14:47:51.025-06:00Cookie LoveI made cookies today...<br /><br />9 dozen (minus 2) chocolate chip cookies...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LK4HVLVOa6P2XIb5gZ-wi5EQrjj_0QTGmJ8gxTSEhYvtdGZnp3MY32q0MVL3mJF5M_8epiQj3mqCmuSkUQc6C-eLkUJxFVS_ndyGrmCD84hB7X-hHxrJ9GT0yM6zxEAJ3K2cqdFbLWU/s1600/IMG_4742.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LK4HVLVOa6P2XIb5gZ-wi5EQrjj_0QTGmJ8gxTSEhYvtdGZnp3MY32q0MVL3mJF5M_8epiQj3mqCmuSkUQc6C-eLkUJxFVS_ndyGrmCD84hB7X-hHxrJ9GT0yM6zxEAJ3K2cqdFbLWU/s400/IMG_4742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452670732386636146" /></a><br /><br />Don't those 2 empty spots just look so... empty?<br /><br />I didn't mean to make so many of them. I just made a double-batch, because we're taking some to game night tonight, and I wanted to have some at home to for desserts. Bond was craving dessert last night after dinner. (I got dinner made, but not dessert.) I found some chocolates that he said didn't taste so great... I'm honestly not sure how old they were... but they couldn't have been <i>that</i> old. <br /><br />*ahem* <br /><br />Right?<br /><br />Anyway. A single batch, I thought, made about 3 dozen.. but a double batch has made 9 dozen (minus 2).. so.. I'm thinking I was wrong.. that a single batch actually makes 4 dozen.. and... maybe I made smaller cookies this time, or something.<br /><br />Enough with my bad math.<br /><br />Just look....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0flxISlMolo98DQz6w8F8ogF1q-9yOqzG1uRtt027L4B9TD4BfGyFpTJtGYPmJpGfgkjq65__pN2sVxR8pVcbsvwkZHRohTsczPYl7QfitBjDl6xXc_wZqcqr3g6dwHDjoNbB7a9nEEU/s1600/IMG_4738.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0flxISlMolo98DQz6w8F8ogF1q-9yOqzG1uRtt027L4B9TD4BfGyFpTJtGYPmJpGfgkjq65__pN2sVxR8pVcbsvwkZHRohTsczPYl7QfitBjDl6xXc_wZqcqr3g6dwHDjoNbB7a9nEEU/s400/IMG_4738.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452671238856712322" /></a><br /><br />At these amazingly tasty...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmOe-Rtt4P783g5JNXizJGMLEwYgWRWf6ABRqkPvR8hh_mBb2D8haA81xuV-hA6106qRBVeLIZAOZVW1oIOUluTjAdFsYuRqysjHbIKe2nl2r-ilfFpPhSev9Qvt_P-8Fk8xKuzn40oE/s1600/IMG_4735.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFmOe-Rtt4P783g5JNXizJGMLEwYgWRWf6ABRqkPvR8hh_mBb2D8haA81xuV-hA6106qRBVeLIZAOZVW1oIOUluTjAdFsYuRqysjHbIKe2nl2r-ilfFpPhSev9Qvt_P-8Fk8xKuzn40oE/s400/IMG_4735.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452671698283944738" /></a><br /><br />9 dozen <s>(minus 2)</s> (minus 3)...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh46SL_ALBCs8_PQMiky4I_zD67Sy8lOiC3RAyjKmgKIDXKTvrds6MD0NCAutXfjzvIHytCUefWCoyHL9q5ry34ULz4-VHLldDhq6kdLXufDgC79R2vZgam8-ICCizfI7WH_ZaUvqybNuw/s1600/IMG_4736.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh46SL_ALBCs8_PQMiky4I_zD67Sy8lOiC3RAyjKmgKIDXKTvrds6MD0NCAutXfjzvIHytCUefWCoyHL9q5ry34ULz4-VHLldDhq6kdLXufDgC79R2vZgam8-ICCizfI7WH_ZaUvqybNuw/s400/IMG_4736.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452672790402981778" /></a><br /><br />Chocolate chip <b>COOKIES!!!</b><br /><br />There is more to cookie-baking in Colorado. It's not just.. follow the recipe. That doesn't work here. If you try that, then you get flat and crunchy cookies. That's okay, if you like that kind of thing.<br /><br />But I like soft chewy cookies.<br /><br />First thing's first.. you gotta use stoneware cookie sheets. Pre-heat them while you pre-heat the oven.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictZgqXSDH57km5uBwqimVaGxSUWE6FiXApLYmnaR2-bc3GLILzN2BY8ZIIKfRIqZRwc5xRQSL1XBddN2piyRWzc8KiD7Rl_3Zuagu-PxX3zA9PoYofJj3FQ3fXm-yDPeMBD7tNVxp31c/s1600/IMG_4741.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictZgqXSDH57km5uBwqimVaGxSUWE6FiXApLYmnaR2-bc3GLILzN2BY8ZIIKfRIqZRwc5xRQSL1XBddN2piyRWzc8KiD7Rl_3Zuagu-PxX3zA9PoYofJj3FQ3fXm-yDPeMBD7tNVxp31c/s400/IMG_4741.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452673974653765810" /></a><br /><br />Stoneware baby, yeah...<br /><br />Then.. you gotta add extra flour to the mix. For this round I added like.. 1/2 to 3/4 cups of extra flour.<br /><br />And THEN.. you gotta take the cookies out before they're done. They have to be just barely browning on top. (See the minus 2 shot, just taken out of the oven.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LK4HVLVOa6P2XIb5gZ-wi5EQrjj_0QTGmJ8gxTSEhYvtdGZnp3MY32q0MVL3mJF5M_8epiQj3mqCmuSkUQc6C-eLkUJxFVS_ndyGrmCD84hB7X-hHxrJ9GT0yM6zxEAJ3K2cqdFbLWU/s1600/IMG_4742.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1LK4HVLVOa6P2XIb5gZ-wi5EQrjj_0QTGmJ8gxTSEhYvtdGZnp3MY32q0MVL3mJF5M_8epiQj3mqCmuSkUQc6C-eLkUJxFVS_ndyGrmCD84hB7X-hHxrJ9GT0yM6zxEAJ3K2cqdFbLWU/s400/IMG_4742.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452670732386636146" /></a><br /><br />And <b>THEN</b> you gotta let them sit on the stoneware cookie sheet to cool and finish baking from underneath until the next dozen is done.<br /><br />It's a very complicated process, yes. And I didn't even go into when you switch them to the cooling rack. But it's soooooo worth it.<br /><br />And you can't forget your kindly neighbor who brings you flour when you've run out. And she brought muffins too. I don't have a picture of those... we ate them already. The muffins, not the kindly neighbor.<br /><br />Don't be gross.<br /><br />And so. To conclude... here is what 9 dozen <s>(minus 3)</s> (minus 4) cookies looks like:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqS-LrvMYQYX0wBusunUwUkfYwX0r10Ky79Zt3lqsmhiIE3BxIdGKMd-EjE1tT17EP333PTH08rHRBr3YwqACMi0fdXEyRlkxoGxlyPaq0NayETcSiYLNJOnYHC0-3BuyrS5QgN1cJjnU/s1600/cookie1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqS-LrvMYQYX0wBusunUwUkfYwX0r10Ky79Zt3lqsmhiIE3BxIdGKMd-EjE1tT17EP333PTH08rHRBr3YwqACMi0fdXEyRlkxoGxlyPaq0NayETcSiYLNJOnYHC0-3BuyrS5QgN1cJjnU/s400/cookie1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452647952244898946" /></a><br /><br />Oh... *scoff* DANG IT!LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-43723864634692869042010-03-24T12:41:00.000-06:002010-03-24T12:41:47.426-06:00Disorganized is My Middle NameSo I'm totally not the most organized person on the planet. I think organized people are amazing freaks of nature. And I often wish I was one of those freaks.<br /><br />My disorganization speaks in every aspect of my life. In fact, the only routine I've had and kept for any amount of time is my shower routine:<br /><br />Shampoo hair<br />Rinse hair<br />Condition hair<br />Comb hair<br />Turn up hot water<br />Brush teeth<br />Rinse mouth<br />Turn up hot water<br />Scrub face<br />Rinse face<br />Soap face<br />Rinse face<br />Turn up hot water<br />Scrub with soap<br />Rinse soap off<br />Turn up hot water<br />Rinse hair<br />Stand till all the hot water is gone<br /><br />I really have to go in the right order, or I'll end up forgetting something. Is that psycho?<br /><br />I guess I have a make-up routine too:<br /><br />Foundation<br />Blush<br />Eye shadow<br />Eye liner<br />Mascara<br />Lip gloss/lipstick<br /><br />So I have routines in getting ready for the day, which is funny because I have to fight tooth and nail to get a shower in during the day most of the time. Or I have to time my waking magically between Newbie's early-morning feeding and Sunshine's and Tank's wake-up, which of course changes every day, and some days that time doesn't even exist.<br />The one routine I have is tossed out of the realm of "organized" simply because I can't do it at the same time every day.<br /><br />I guess there is another routine I've managed to manage. :)<br /><br />Sunshine and Tank take a nap (most days).. and I usually put them down between 1:30pm and 2pm. I send Sunshine to the potty, and Tank and I go upstairs and I pray with him and he goes down well. And by the time I get back downstairs, Sunshine is ready to go down.. of course now that Newbie is involved.. and her nap time isn't perfectly regulated yet.. that kinda throws that routine for a loop many days...<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />My biggest problem lately with my organization-challenge-ment is dinner.<br />You see, Bond gets home from a long day at work and expects to eat something. (He asks so much! <i>sarcasm</i>) There have been a few successful weeks where I've made a menu for the week and cooked all week long.. and then there are weeks that I make a menu and it gets thrown out because we end up having plans all week.. and then there are weeks - most weeks - that I don't make a menu and I scramble to put something together, only to end up running to Taco Bell or Wendy's because it would just take too long to fix something at home. It's expensive and a waste of money and time and food. <br />I'm curious to know how many others are out there. People like me. Who don't like to cook only because it's too hard to plan the menu, shop for the right ingredients, and follow through with the meals - oh.. and dishes. Clean-up's a pain too.<br /><br />Oh and I've tried the FlyLady stuff and other menu-planning things. I guess disorganized will just have to be part of my description for awhile longer. Maybe once the kids figure out how to sleep until 9am.. maybe then I can call myself organized....<br /><br />Dream on, right?LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-28383793340780563622010-03-23T20:57:00.003-06:002010-03-23T21:29:27.900-06:00*Smack!*Whoa... where did <i>that</i> come from?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj98iaFRHOK3a68jqpdKI0v_CtnnB8y4lbDoCy-dx1BerMIWbw9efbd46f4Pc2iPnPDwOILqjiTDBSB-hCyghhbm9Rk7r_vclqh-fUO484fu45XQ4Ghxi-aWtEAp1tAWb61b4jA34R6u54/s1600-h/CIMG0055.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj98iaFRHOK3a68jqpdKI0v_CtnnB8y4lbDoCy-dx1BerMIWbw9efbd46f4Pc2iPnPDwOILqjiTDBSB-hCyghhbm9Rk7r_vclqh-fUO484fu45XQ4Ghxi-aWtEAp1tAWb61b4jA34R6u54/s400/CIMG0055.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452029999689542274" /></a><br /><br />Wow Colorado! What a storm!<br /><br />I'm so excited about this. We were on our way home from grocery shopping. I'm not sure how long we were actually in the store, an hour maybe, but upon exiting.. the world had changed from dry and chilly to .. crazy snowy! There were already 2 or so inches on the ground when we were trying to leave. Bond brought the van up to the door so we could load up, and at least an inch accumulated on the van while it sat there waiting for us to get all ready and buckled.<br /><br />I wonder how many people were out getting their groceries too, because it took us over an hour and a half to get home in the storm.<br /><br />Check out my view!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2_joiTX3H4csvdoSrxazcjhrPGUr9_cYqyg9B7XgXvWTP5fFEGEmeLN_c4vkPh2rG4FrfOvcDMR6__eaKIiVYlyoK_D_GAB6WuBgOIbLI0Ps8bE6PHDjh4zlktJ4Oxpr4GmrhwjWofY/s1600-h/CIMG0056.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj2_joiTX3H4csvdoSrxazcjhrPGUr9_cYqyg9B7XgXvWTP5fFEGEmeLN_c4vkPh2rG4FrfOvcDMR6__eaKIiVYlyoK_D_GAB6WuBgOIbLI0Ps8bE6PHDjh4zlktJ4Oxpr4GmrhwjWofY/s400/CIMG0056.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452029989546652562" /></a><br /><br />It wasn't JUST the horrible roads and non-existent visibility. For some reason, the van decided it didn't like my "Dirty Car" story.. I think it must have peed out all the anti-freeze or something, because the heater wasn't working! So the windows were all fogged up and we were all freeeeezing!<br /><br />And on top of that, Newbie was screaming her head off the entire time! Bond can't concentrate well when she's screaming. So I crawled into the back and tried to calm her down, to no avail. <br /><br />Amidst all the distractions.. the icy roads, the blowing snow, the foggy windows, the screaming baby, the loud pre-schooler and toddler in the back... Bond did such an awesome job driving us home. But I helped. I pulled out my awesome phone that had my awesome Google maps application and my awesome GPS capabilities. We were able to drive through a few neighborhoods instead of getting stuck trying to get up the hills with the rest of traffic. It was complete insanity and it was awesome.<br /><br />(Baby screaming in the background.)<br />"Here, turn right here! And then this'll take us all the way to Austin Bluffs."<br />(Boys laughing and yelling in the background.)<br />"I can't see the road.. the snow is as high as the sidewalks!"<br />(More baby screaming..)<br />"Follow the trees!" I look down at my awesome GPS map phone. "See it curves around right here!"<br />(Tense pause between Mom and Dad, kids are all still screaming their heads off.)<br />"Okay this is supposed to be Austin Bluffs up here.."<br />"I can't see anything."<br />(Red traffic lights appear out of no where.)<br />"THERE!"<br />"Weeeeeeeeeeee heeeeeeeeeeee!"<br /><br />Total. Aweosmeness!<br /><br />Okay, so maybe I didn't say weee heee. But it was definitely exciting. It was like... a really really good movie, minus the explosions. I laughed.. I cried.. or wanted to anyway. But the sidewalks and following the trees and lights popping up out of no where... and the screaming kids... and the non-working heater.. it was all there. It made it all completely hilarious. And terrifying.<br /><br />And it was such a relief to walk in the door of our home. It was much more peaceful than this...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKgJX68m2Jdalfj9jNIrJcgKuxrtj_OEVbIqcVS2LbNiDE-1TjRu4k05VcfKwjjni4rl5AOjhqJE4PB-Rb5dmnvUrOHh8mwRhXE9uoBwpVSImkwisAfnHi2RqtA1pl7ZG3V-YmCE2Pp8/s1600-h/CIMG0058.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKgJX68m2Jdalfj9jNIrJcgKuxrtj_OEVbIqcVS2LbNiDE-1TjRu4k05VcfKwjjni4rl5AOjhqJE4PB-Rb5dmnvUrOHh8mwRhXE9uoBwpVSImkwisAfnHi2RqtA1pl7ZG3V-YmCE2Pp8/s400/CIMG0058.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452029978307357186" /></a><br /><br />Definitely more peaceful.. pretty, and calm.<br /><br />As we sit right now, there are over six inches of snow on our deck. I'm thinking we won't get to go to Newbie's post-op appointment tomorrow without some SERIOUS early morning sun.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-71660019335504994422010-03-23T10:22:00.004-06:002010-03-23T10:49:41.618-06:00"Tank"-ing on the Potty TrainingI. Hate. Potty. Training.<br /><br />Hate. It.<br /><br />With a passion. (That's a lot.)<br /><br />I always thought Tank would be easier for some reason. Maybe it's because Sunshine was really hard to train.. and Tank started going tinkle on the potty when he was 18 months old. No kidding. I remember thinking, "Oh wow! I'm not ready for this! Maybe he'll train himself!"<br /><br />Riiiiiiiight. Tank will be three next month (Holy moly where did the time go?!) And I decided last week to take away his diapers because it was just time. (Come on. The kid can play Mario Brothers better than his Grammy and Pappy, dress and undress himself, and has known what pee and poo were for quite a while. He can do this. Sadly, I don't remember what conversation it was that we were having when I thought, "Why am I still changing this kid's diapers?" Wish I did!) No training himself there, oh well. So now, <i>I'm</i> trying to train him.<br /><br />But sometimes I forget.<br /><br />And so he ends up going wherever he is... on the bench... or the couch... the floor... you know, wherever's convenient. (The toilet isn't convenient by the way.. it's in a WHOLE DIFFERENT ROOM.)<br /><br />At least I can tell when he's gonna go poo. He usually runs downstairs by himself to play "Learning Journey." So as long as I can run after him and catch him, we can get him to go on the potty.<br /><br />So... I guess.. <br /><br />...now that I think about it...<br /><br />I'm the one who's in potty training at this point. Every 20 minutes..<br /><br />"Tank, do you need to go potty?"<br /><br />"Tank, let's go potty!"<br /><br />"Tank, it's potty time!"<br /><br />Oh and the bribing.<br /><br />I bribe. Tank loves gummies, aka fruit snacks. He and his peers get them at his pre-pre-school class when they use the potty. So for the last week Tank has had way too much sugar.<br /><br />And Sunshine pouts. He uses the potty, after all. Why can't he have a gummy too?<br /><br />Why can't my 4-year-old understand that he got bribed too, when he was potty training? Why can't he remember that?<br /><br />So I gave in one day. (Mistake.)<br /><br />"Okay, Sunshine. How about when you help Tank go potty, you get a gummy too."<br /><br />A few minutes later I hear..<br /><br />"Good job Tank!" <i>pitter patter of little feet, actually more like the cacophony of an elephant stampede, but whatever</i> "Mom, I said 'good job.' Can I have a gummy now?"<br /><br />*sigh*<br /><br />I. Hate. Potty. Training.<br /><br />Newbie, you better do me right. You're a girl. You HAVE to do this way easier than these big boy brothers of yours. Mmkay? Love, Mommy.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-10812511177925195482010-03-22T22:08:00.001-06:002010-03-22T22:08:37.709-06:00So Long, Gummy Smile - Part 1Ah... Newbie's first tooth.<br /><br />It has come too soon. Both Sunshine and Tank waited until their 7th month of life to start with the teeth.<br /><br />But not Newbie. My sweet Princess of Drool cut her first tooth last Thursday morning. I had seen it coming, so I took some gorgeous gummy smile pictures, knowing that I would miss it dearly.<br /><br />See? No teeth, yet.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg35v2gU1-U72p8NRqprgRfZ7RrL6hZ-FKrEtevzL_m6sYSfVrYIrScZ5jkU8DDVmiZuyScBT6U_qPyIrOagEvcbF8ckTXpffoLj2QZgJ33wk69hBKiakGdUZKmjArauucAF8P4SPgZYew/s1600-h/IMG_4687_crop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg35v2gU1-U72p8NRqprgRfZ7RrL6hZ-FKrEtevzL_m6sYSfVrYIrScZ5jkU8DDVmiZuyScBT6U_qPyIrOagEvcbF8ckTXpffoLj2QZgJ33wk69hBKiakGdUZKmjArauucAF8P4SPgZYew/s400/IMG_4687_crop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451667900802078642" /></a><br /><br />But... she does look a little worried...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6SZ7R8rkJcWjMd0Oe4Hwh0ZmX10e4LXSs6p7Ydn4uW7tiMltbpTdJX2x20TkzFUhByw5JgUGVMfytA_nG6Z-lDPP2aJOC5znZ6SIFf9LAded8DcJan7YFhIT2gzxAW9B8mMJWI2g3OY/s1600-h/IMG_4682_crop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 373px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6SZ7R8rkJcWjMd0Oe4Hwh0ZmX10e4LXSs6p7Ydn4uW7tiMltbpTdJX2x20TkzFUhByw5JgUGVMfytA_nG6Z-lDPP2aJOC5znZ6SIFf9LAded8DcJan7YFhIT2gzxAW9B8mMJWI2g3OY/s400/IMG_4682_crop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451666658861856978" /></a><br /><br />Hm.. must be she tried to do her own taxes.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-76901047424808232012010-03-18T16:41:00.005-06:002010-03-19T11:19:25.456-06:00The Zoo's Gone Wild! ...oh wait.I took the kids to the zoo a few weeks ago. It was supposed to be warm. The high was supposed to be about 50 degrees. Woo! I think it might have been almost 40, because we went in the morning and it was gusty windy. Oh well.<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />I took the kids to the zoo a few weeks ago. I think the animals were all going wild... I mean, crazy. There was a peacock that was blocking the exit from the ape house. Kinda freaky, really.<br /><br />There were like, 15 giraffes all jammed in together near the fence, begging for crackers. Usually, the giraffes are a little more timid. They <span style="font-style:italic;">might</span> take your thirty-three cent cracker. They might take the one from the guy next to you. Depends on how they're feeling that day. But THIS day, they were begging.<br /><br />"Plllease plllease give me that cracker!" That's what they would say if they had voice boxes and could make noise.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4iZXtPflORRbte4C8xNOz_Xm2ImPgfijEsGBkfx0yhEsnWR4c2ccJxCo3R4CjsU1dheIe3_seyngwB5nVAnXHzBJTE1n0OIjbF4BuTG5C_x-9N6RGc2sehJ85qEnNOefdQt8PARVAEA/s1600-h/CIMG0027.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4iZXtPflORRbte4C8xNOz_Xm2ImPgfijEsGBkfx0yhEsnWR4c2ccJxCo3R4CjsU1dheIe3_seyngwB5nVAnXHzBJTE1n0OIjbF4BuTG5C_x-9N6RGc2sehJ85qEnNOefdQt8PARVAEA/s320/CIMG0027.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450110697162539906" /></a><br /><br />Sunshine went to feed a baby giraffe. He and the baby giraffe were at eye level with one another. A taller giraffe had other plans, and wanted that cracker. His head was hanging right over Sunshine's head. I said "Hey, Sunshine, look up!" <br /><br />So he did.<br /><br />And he got licked.<br /><br />On the cheek.<br /><br />And in the ear.<br /><br />It was funny.<br /><br />For me.<br /><br />Sunshine thought it was gross and asked for sanitizer.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFd3EMv3yBe4srEs59KtDRkYuv6b6SWA_GhISAn0cMhAkzDqPIxftiMTrzY7-3MwWc7NoNiC7OZosDqWyc34lMJHcsblD48ypFIPwUE4f_yc-bj96IxXGcrL2-46oZDMpk3esa48s6qYY/s1600-h/CIMG0029.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFd3EMv3yBe4srEs59KtDRkYuv6b6SWA_GhISAn0cMhAkzDqPIxftiMTrzY7-3MwWc7NoNiC7OZosDqWyc34lMJHcsblD48ypFIPwUE4f_yc-bj96IxXGcrL2-46oZDMpk3esa48s6qYY/s320/CIMG0029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450110703882457442" /></a><br /><br />If the giraffes had even the hope that we had a cracker, they would let us pet them. Very unusual.<br /><br />And then, back at the ape house -- I know, I'm really linear today -- the apes were going <s>wild</s> crazy too. I think they were bored.<br /><br />One of them reminded me of Al from <span style="font-style:italic;">Married With Children</span>. He was scratching himself.<br /><br />And then, this happened.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqi3l6tKVcgKDKbLrpOxlY9gbXxeqX7K33dslC27fEqHu8jzNKrxvoPoMp4dYtF194toDlaJfzwAuCZNdbtLy4ZXMWny1A47y-5iAaqnPOH4d93VXVG6qn6QHXGwylutwMxTuUiTqHaw/s1600-h/CIMG0035.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqi3l6tKVcgKDKbLrpOxlY9gbXxeqX7K33dslC27fEqHu8jzNKrxvoPoMp4dYtF194toDlaJfzwAuCZNdbtLy4ZXMWny1A47y-5iAaqnPOH4d93VXVG6qn6QHXGwylutwMxTuUiTqHaw/s320/CIMG0035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450110687134463042" /></a><br /><br />The staring. It seemed like all the apes were staring at us. It was like WE were on display. Totally freaky.<br /><br />And oh, my, gosh... the frogs. There were like, gabillions of them. My camera phone doesn't like to focus where I want it to. So this is the coolest shot I got of a bull frog staring at us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfxBHzlo_p3lwNUApbjwunSGiqIFP0NVDtaNX_k73pv0N1SFmP2K5zJAA5kWZCjw54t0adbWwsWi36gFPUQ7XcuQHI2ocsuCZtNYNF0WdOrsLq1lDpBhQrqFeYO_P62Ntf27DKTC_Jrc/s1600-h/CIMG0032.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfxBHzlo_p3lwNUApbjwunSGiqIFP0NVDtaNX_k73pv0N1SFmP2K5zJAA5kWZCjw54t0adbWwsWi36gFPUQ7XcuQHI2ocsuCZtNYNF0WdOrsLq1lDpBhQrqFeYO_P62Ntf27DKTC_Jrc/s320/CIMG0032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450110711948419394" /></a><br /><br />I know, right?<br /><br />Coolest thing ever.<br /><br />So, between the freaked out animals and the freezing cold wind, I decided it was time to go home, and we did.<br /><br />But it sure was a <s>wild</s> crazy day at the zoo!!LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-43149243525309475872010-03-10T22:21:00.005-07:002010-03-10T23:40:10.617-07:00Wednesday, March 10, 2010 - Newbie's surgeryThe only good thing I had to dwell on about Newbie's surgery today was that I would get to smell the hospital. I've never had to be in the stinky part, and it's always been associated with good memories.. like... new babies. I love the smell of sterile. Clean. Sans perfume but still sweet. Maybe it's the laundry detergent. Or the hand soap. I'm not sure, but I love it. And I know I'm weird for that.<br /><br />Newbie did amazing. She didn't start fussing over her hunger (I had to starve her before the procedure) until about 10 minutes before she went in.. when she fell asleep in Grandma's arms. It was cute. I kept trying to convince the doctors and nurses that they didn't need to use the general anesthesia.. she was already asleep! Didn't work.<br /><br />So anyway, Newbie did amazing. I did fine until this morning, when I realized today had come. For real. Wednesday, March 10, 2010 was today. I couldn't think too hard about it this morning without wishing I hadn't eaten breakfast.<br /><br />I did better once we were here (I'm at the hospital as I type) and I had six close friends and family members in the pre-op room with me. I had no idea how well-loved my almost-5-month-old baby is. How well loved I am. (Newbie ended up with eight visitors in the waiting room at once, not including her parents. We totally took over. If I'd known we would have so many there I'd have arranged a pot luck. That's what Baptists do, right? We eat!)<br /><br />The first hardest moment for me today was putting her down on the operating table. She'd fallen asleep in Grandma's arms and she stayed asleep after transferring her to my arms. She slept as we walked down the maze of hallways they call the hospital and slept as nurses and doctors filled the operating room. This morning she'd woken up, happy as could be.. oblivious that she was going to have a very rough day. So when the anesthesiologist said, "You can put her down on the table now," I thought, No... I can't. I held onto her for a little bit longer. When I put her down she woke up and cried. I held her hand as they stuffed the mask that delivered her sleeping medicine on her face and she fought it with all she had.. holding her breath and everything.. till her body made her gasp and she slowly fell asleep. And then they made me leave her.<br /><br />God must have known I'd be a wreck walking out of there, because not 60 seconds later I saw my old pastor and youth pastor walking toward the waiting room. (Old and youth.. that's kind of funny. "Previous" is a better word than old. Because neither of them are very old in my head. Anyway.) I walked between them as we weaved our way through the maze and finally into the room that held so many of my friends and family members.<br /><br />And then we sat there.<br />And talked.<br />And joked.<br />It was a little awkward.. everyone was there to support me. I almost felt like I needed to entertain them. We entertained each other for awhile, playing musical chairs to avoid talking over one another. Eventually my current pastor and my previous pastor ended up in one corner talking, and the rest of us broke out into pairs or groups of three and chatted quietly, sometimes poking into other conversations. I got to sit next to Bear and do math with him, and it was nice because I felt useful in a time of helplessness.<br /><br />I looked at the clock a lot, and at 11:20a or so I thought.. she should be coming anytime now.. I looked over at the door and to my surprise and relief the surgeon was walking through the door, smiling at me from underneath her hospital-blue hairnet.<br /><br />Newbie had her adenoids removed. They were pretty big for such a little girl. Her esophagus is narrower.. swollen.. and red, indicating that she's still having some acid reflux going on, even with her current meds. Her voice box is also swollen. I have pictures. I'll scan them sometime. They're neat. It's mild narrowing.. but it does mean that she'll be likely to get croup more and that when she gets sick it'll settle in that narrow airway. Super. We'll just have to watch her carefully. If it starts delaying her development or causing trouble, there are ways to dilate the airway.. but no worries about that right now.<br />The doctor explained that the next step is getting Newbie's reflux under control. So we're going to see a GI doctor next for that. We'll also have a sleep study done again in a few months after she's all healed up to see how her apnea is doing.<br /><br />Everyone left at this point and Bond came with me to recovery to see Newbie while my mommy went to the waiting room till we could get in the room we'd be staying in overnight.<br /><br />This was the second hardest part of my day.<br />Once we got to recovery, I could see that Newbie was fussing and struggling. She would sleep for a minute.. and then wake up and fight whatever it was that was bugging her. Grogginess.. or pain.. or hunger. There were two nurses over her trying to calm her down as I walked in to see her. One asked if anyone had explained everything to me yet, and I said... well. I don't remember what I said. But I do remember parts of what the nurse said.<br /><br />Newbie had stopped breathing down in recovery. They'd had to intubate her (put a tube down her throat) again.. for the fourth time that day.. to open her airway to breathe. The combination of her central apnea, the anesthesia, and the swollen airway had stopped her breathing and turned her blue. I cried a little. And the nurses consoled me. <br /><br />So anytime she got mad, Newbie would hold her breath, and her lips would turn purple. And when I was watching her lips turn purple, I'd forget about God.. I didn't even think to pray for my daughter. I just watched and panicked. Instead I focused on a little boy, maybe 7 years old, who got wheeled in. He was noticeably a cancer patient because all his hair was gone, even his eyebrows. I saw a nurse hand him a red Popsicle once he woke up and I liked how his eyes happily widened, along with his mouth, and how excited he was to have a red Popsicle. I didn't want to watch my baby struggle. It was too hard. I'd rather watch a kid happily eat a Popsicle. (Thank you God for all my friends and family that have been praying over this baby girl. Thank you for wise and calm nurses and the anesthesiologist that were by her side the entire time this happened. Thank you for keeping me from seeing all of the really scary stuff happen. And I'm sorry I forgot about you for a few seconds. Thanks for not forgetting me.)<br /><br />I asked the nurses a lot of meaningless questions about when she'd stopped breathing, just trying to get a grip on it. I'm so glad the nurses were patient with me. Newbie got calmed down eventually and slept. They asked if I wanted to hold her. Heck yah! So I picked her up, and it woke her up, and it made her mad, and she cried and fussed and her lips started turning purple again. I put her back down and we eventually got her calmed down.. again. About the time she really started waking up, they got a room available for us in the PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit). We wheeled her there and things have been relatively peaceful since then.<br /><br />She's been eating like a champ, and we're giving her Tylenol for the pain. She still holds her breath when she gets mad or is hurting. And she's had one episode of apnea that caused the alarms to go off. They've had her on oxygen the whole time, so even though she wasn't taking breaths, her oxygen saturation remained high. We've had to mess with her IV a little, and that was painful for her.. but that's better now too. Really, there are other babies up here that are way sicker than her. It's hard to hear small kids coughing or crying. But I guess it's normal in this wing.<br /><br />There have been little miracles today.. like Bond's parents making the drive to watch Sunshine and Tank for us. It's typically a 4 or 5-hour drive for them, but a closed highway, dumb truck drivers and other traffic, and your typical Colorado it's-going-to-blizzard-because-you-need-to-be-somewhere snow slowed them down. They stopped at a half-way point last night and finished the trip this morning, arriving at our home 30 to 45 minutes before I had to leave for the hospital. Perfect timing. -- And my mommy, also making a drive to be with me, through the snow and yuck Colorado had to throw at us today. -- And the Medela pump the hospital graciously provided me. Those things. Are. Amazing.<br /><br />So there's the recap of Wednesday, March 10, 2010. Bond would probably fix a couple details here and there and write it more intelligently, but at least I've got it down somewhere. And those of you who I haven't called or texted can kinda see what we've been through today!<br /><br />Most apparently, I've been taken care of today. I experienced an outpouring of love from so many people. The doctors and nurses were all so helpful and kind. And Bond brought me Dr. Pepper, a giant KitKat bar, and a funny action-ish movie and hung out with me, patiently pausing the movie through every interruption.<br /><br />And. I even get to sleep under the sterile-sweet smell of a hospital blanket tonight.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-14142879409614070442010-03-04T17:19:00.006-07:002010-03-04T17:34:29.410-07:00Do the Mario!!Remember "back in the day" when Mario and Luigi had their own TV show??<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGiNkNAUJ0dlgcn54fkacK26gtz57Vt8AOpFl7nxRlgQQoTIp9UFRWNMgCkXn92nprXYK95DChnq11LcQTgXTxhBQgrNvDBmvLzY78lnCIppt2dFVOktea2d7071rVvpexMr2xjG8gZM/s1600-h/super_mario_super_show.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGiNkNAUJ0dlgcn54fkacK26gtz57Vt8AOpFl7nxRlgQQoTIp9UFRWNMgCkXn92nprXYK95DChnq11LcQTgXTxhBQgrNvDBmvLzY78lnCIppt2dFVOktea2d7071rVvpexMr2xjG8gZM/s320/super_mario_super_show.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444938820836746050" border="0"></a><br /><br />They had a song and it was "Do the Mario."<br /><br />Swing your arms... ... something something. It goes along with the original Mario Brothers theme music. It's nifty. Hunt it down on youtube.com sometime.. you might regret it.. but maybe not.<br /><br />Anyway.<br /><br />Tank has his OWN version of "doing the Mario." Enjoy!<br /><br />(The crackling in the background is Newbie playing with the plastic bag that holds her diapers. Don't worry, she's still breathing!)<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(Hmm.. for some reason I only got 13 seconds of the dance.. missed the best parts! I'll have to try it again!)</span><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dztnWNWgAl57IHy-rbsXNFMnE2j3rMLY6mxOivfE54WNy0rd1YbJO6z8G6nsKYhiPBhXMd-1ewyWeOv0ynSag' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6115237160519220303.post-67072836319608174932010-03-04T16:24:00.005-07:002010-03-04T17:05:41.645-07:00Dirty CarThis.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiMS4Gg5Dd-XHsao0jUV_rlk0ujR7XU8YY6N1xQzRG_7N6T6iWLiYvu33rvoh84S0sCZoXR5wvk-7nPlNqH4nBxY3MrxArxUHhFedXuRj2j1LAGn5viVIL9oKy1TR1hNdAxqW7JJ9SHw/s1600-h/CIMG0025.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiMS4Gg5Dd-XHsao0jUV_rlk0ujR7XU8YY6N1xQzRG_7N6T6iWLiYvu33rvoh84S0sCZoXR5wvk-7nPlNqH4nBxY3MrxArxUHhFedXuRj2j1LAGn5viVIL9oKy1TR1hNdAxqW7JJ9SHw/s320/CIMG0025.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444927349343600850" /></a><br /><br />Is Optimus Prime.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0IEGZTBk-Khlb4xSGKBv1upSR5oOnSQlPfD2FuMIqMXCiAF4nLkEzzxBAOip7L7IEfcMUhDCDKHRk9m0iuIehwmqZ0KGIG7K_QH45tGf9U3QbTnQfH6-lbmp9rM4s-7EjCeiCUL9sMw/s1600-h/CIMG0026.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0IEGZTBk-Khlb4xSGKBv1upSR5oOnSQlPfD2FuMIqMXCiAF4nLkEzzxBAOip7L7IEfcMUhDCDKHRk9m0iuIehwmqZ0KGIG7K_QH45tGf9U3QbTnQfH6-lbmp9rM4s-7EjCeiCUL9sMw/s320/CIMG0026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444927335350867010" /></a><br /><br />(Insert Big Exciting Music Clip here.)<br /><br />What? I let the kids name the car. Big deal.<br /><br />(Music putters out.)<br /><br />Sunshine has a friend, we'll call him Titan. We met Titan and his mommy over the summer when I was buying cloth diapers in preparation for Newbie. While I never did get into the cloth diaper thing once Newbie got here, Titan's mommy and I have become good friends. That friendship must be why God got me interested in cloth diapers. We lived within pregnant-lady walking distance from each other for over a year before we connected!!<br /><br />ANYWAY. (Hey, I'm allowed to digress on the blog!)<br /><br />Sunshine and Titan are buddies and are in the same pre-school class too! So we carpool.<br /><br />Almost EVERY SINGLE TIME that I have Titan in my car he makes a comment on how dirty it is. Usually he'll say something like, "You need to take your car to the car wash. It's muddy. Hey! There's one! Can we go to the car wash?" Today he looked around and said, "Wow, your car is a mess!" <br /><br />Titan is five. This completely explains the brutal honesty. (Well.. <span style="font-style:italic;">someone</span> needed to have the guts to tell me! Poor dirty car!)<br /><br />So.. kids have it backwards, I think. They lie when you want them to tell the truth... (Yeah.. sure you ate your mashed potatoes.. that's why they're dripping off the ceiling.. right?) and they tell the truth when you want them to lie.<br /><br />Who needs a clean car anyway? Sorry Optimus.. you're destined to be dirty.LilBithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09711193173520360141noreply@blogger.com1