<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:37:32.181-08:00</updated><category term='roadtrip'/><category term='summer'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='arizona'/><title type='text'>2TRDMOMS</title><subtitle type='html'>One's on the East Coast, one's on the West Coast.  It doesn't matter what time zone they reside in. They are two busy mom's raising 3 kids each, just trying to get some sleep.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>150</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6918909404874272258</id><published>2012-01-06T13:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T13:11:45.215-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesomeness</title><content type='html'>I just found the blogger app on my phone!  I can even add a picture. Like this one just for cuteness!  Now that posting to my blog is as easy as a Facebook update... Expect to hear from more often!&lt;div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pZmZnCsX8y0/TwdjkB6uO0I/AAAAAAAAQX0/QnB1uofvvko/s640/blogger-image--777591102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pZmZnCsX8y0/TwdjkB6uO0I/AAAAAAAAQX0/QnB1uofvvko/s640/blogger-image--777591102.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6918909404874272258?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6918909404874272258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6918909404874272258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6918909404874272258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6918909404874272258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2012/01/awesomeness.html' title='Awesomeness'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-pZmZnCsX8y0/TwdjkB6uO0I/AAAAAAAAQX0/QnB1uofvvko/s72-c/blogger-image--777591102.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6868693511964744376</id><published>2010-05-27T08:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T08:26:36.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The end</title><content type='html'>It is with great sadness that I announce the end of 2TRDMOMS blog.  It's been a good run and I've so enjoyed blogging with Annie and reading all your comments.  See, Annie and I got in this huge fight over the background color on 2TRDMOMS and we just decided we can't work together anymore because of our artistic differences.  Okay, that's totally a joke. If you'll notice our blog background has been white for a long long time and both of us have more important things to worry about.    You can catch me on my new blog at:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://erardfam.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://erardfam.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please join me there, change you blogroll links for me, and you can catch Annie on Facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6868693511964744376?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6868693511964744376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6868693511964744376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6868693511964744376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6868693511964744376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/05/end.html' title='The end'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2449684692903165693</id><published>2010-05-25T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T08:36:40.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestones</title><content type='html'>Emma has hit some big milestones this year that I keep meaning to write about.  She is so excited about them.  She has learned to blow a bubble with bubble gum, tie her own shoes (I'll admit this is the first year I've bought her shoes with laces, that's called lazy parenting), whistle, and is almost riding a bike.  Most of the time she is challenged at doing them by her little brothers so I know she could have done many of them earlier since they are doing them but that's what she gets for being the oldest :).  She'll be riding a bike at six and Ben will be riding one at 3 I can guarantee it.  Anyway, it is so fun to see kids hit milestones and celebrate along with them as they feel so accomplished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a fabulous weekend in San Fransisco with a old high school girlfriend.  We hung around the city all day shopping and reminiscing (SF used to be my old stomping grounds in high school, it was the nearest big city to me and we used to go there all the time) and then we finished up the night with a night at the theatre and saw Wicked which was a fabulous play.  I couldn't even believe the nice break it was to be away from the kids for a couple of days.  I love my job of being a full time mom but whew is it tiring :).   Just sitting on the airplane for an hour by myself was a luxury.  I had so much time to sit and think and relax.  Every time I have a night away I remember that I need to do it more often but don't seem to get around to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have summer on my mind and can't get it off.  I feel like it's Christmas Eve.  Yesterday Emma's teacher sent out and email saying there was no more homework for the rest of the year.   Emma started dancing a jig and yip-eeing all over the living room and I felt like jumping up and joining her.   With all of our summer plans I can already tell that it's going to fly by though and I'll be sitting her next year at this same time before I know it looking forward to summer again. Awww, the circle of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2449684692903165693?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2449684692903165693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2449684692903165693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2449684692903165693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2449684692903165693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/05/milestones.html' title='Milestones'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-361548012134577300</id><published>2010-05-14T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T08:18:36.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Looks like another Friday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1ndstfPTI/AAAAAAAAMzo/z--FrU_6DSU/s1600/IMG_4360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1ndstfPTI/AAAAAAAAMzo/z--FrU_6DSU/s400/IMG_4360.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471142882240838962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This was our only Easter picture this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the garden started.  So far we have tomatoes, beans, sunflowers and lots of strawberries.  I still have a long way to go but I'm so excited for my summer harvest again.  It was so wonderful eating fresh veggies last summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was bliss...I took dinner over to a friend and on the way home around 6:00 both boys fell asleep in the car.  Jacob woke up when we got home and then fell asleep on the couch so I put him in bed.  Ben I had put in bed and then he got up and came and laid on me on the couch and we both fell asleep.  Poor Emma was stuck watching T.V. all night (I'm sure she was just heartbroken)  until dad got home at 9:00.  He put Ben back into his bed, covered me on the couch and I slept the rest of the night!  Of course Dave got up at 5:00 to go to work so it was an early morning but I got a really good nights sleep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben decided my bedroom carpet needed watering this week so he stood at my sliding glass door with the hose on and the door open.  I'm not sure how long he was there before I found him but my floor was sopping wet!  I'm sure my entire neighborhood heard me scream "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;NOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;" when I caught him doing it.  Luckily I had my MIL carpet clean and I spent a good hour sucking up water!  That kid is going to be the death of me.  Once day I'll walk in and have a heart attack when I see what he's doing I'm sure of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1neYaPseI/AAAAAAAAMz4/fFn7iay4EyY/s1600/IMG_7209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1neYaPseI/AAAAAAAAMz4/fFn7iay4EyY/s400/IMG_7209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471142893971288546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Painting birdhouses for grandma for Mother's day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob had a mother's day tea at his school this week.  His class reenacted the story of Moses and then fed us lemonade with muffins.  I can't believe he'll be in kindergarten next year!  He's so ready for it though.  He's already starting to read a little bit and our summer goal is for him to be reading by the time he starts kindergarten.  Anybody know a good website for teaching?  I'm looking for the site words so I can make flash cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1neuv62cI/AAAAAAAAM0A/AXWNOmU1SwQ/s1600/IMG_7224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1neuv62cI/AAAAAAAAM0A/AXWNOmU1SwQ/s400/IMG_7224.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471142899967777218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jacob and mom at Mother's Day Tea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tball&lt;/span&gt; season is coming to a close on Saturday.  Jacob loved every moment of it.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;foresee&lt;/span&gt; many future Saturdays of mine sitting in a folding chair on the sidelines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1neMNqbXI/AAAAAAAAMzw/kk3-PKISkWw/s1600/IMG_4320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1neMNqbXI/AAAAAAAAMzw/kk3-PKISkWw/s400/IMG_4320.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471142890697289074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a little bird at the top of my chimney right now chirping and it's so melodic it doesn't even sound real.  I wish you all could hear it.  They sit on my chimney and chirp and you can hear it in my living room.   What a great way to start the weekend.  Although it seems our weekends are so packed lately they don't feel much like weekends.  Summer is just around the corner!  We had a water balloon fight yesterday and then swam in the pool and next week we are starting up with swim lessons again.  Can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-361548012134577300?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/361548012134577300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=361548012134577300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/361548012134577300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/361548012134577300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/05/looks-like-another-friday.html' title='Looks like another Friday...'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/S-1ndstfPTI/AAAAAAAAMzo/z--FrU_6DSU/s72-c/IMG_4360.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3871108664648179977</id><published>2010-05-07T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T08:14:21.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday</title><content type='html'>Yeah! It's Friday. After a week like this one I need to celebrate something so I'm celebrating Friday.  We are all feeling the end of school year blues around here.  The weather is warming up, the pool is beckoning, and we are ready to be done.  Only another month and a half that will hopefully fly by.   The summer plans are pretty much set and I'm getting excited at the thoughts of lazy summer days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a different note, I have a heavy heart this week as a good friend of mine just discovered she has colon cancer that has spread to her liver and ovaries.  She is just 35 and has two small children at home and the news was absolutely devastating.  She's in the hospital now and we'll find out soon what the prognosis is but it's not looking too good at the moment.  Please keep her family in your prayers her name is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Vann&lt;/span&gt;.  I'm praying daily, no hourly, for my lovely friend.  She is one of the finest, just a sweet, sweet lady and deserves a miracle in her life.  Learning news like this really puts into perspective the little things in life.  I've snuggled a little more with my children this week, been a little nicer, and tried to slow down a bit and remember the purpose of my life and what's important.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3871108664648179977?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3871108664648179977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3871108664648179977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3871108664648179977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3871108664648179977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/05/friday.html' title='Friday'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1717639246209880300</id><published>2010-04-25T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T18:03:42.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to keep track</title><content type='html'>Today at church Ben took off his socks and shoes.  I was trying to convince him to put his socks back and because we needed to wear them at church.  He said "mom, God didn't make socks".  What do I say to that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Emma asked me if she could have "a buck" for garage sailing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob asks me every night "mom, do you like how I behaved today?"  He really is such a good kid and so eager to please. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day my kids say things I want to have recorded forever but it seems the next day they have fleeted from my already overwhelmed brain.   I never want to forget the feel of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;smushy&lt;/span&gt; toddler cheeks and giant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;squeezey&lt;/span&gt; hugs.  The triumph of NO MORE DIAPERS....YEAH.  All three fully potty trained now and it feels like such a milestone.  I think I've been changing diapers for 7 years now.  I know many have gone a lot more years than that but boy it seems like forever.    Jacob's determined face when he runs the bases in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tball&lt;/span&gt;.  He takes his sports very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;seriously&lt;/span&gt;.  He told me this week he wants to be a hockey player when he grows up.  Yikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't keep a daily journal as I ought.  I always think I'll do it on her to record every precious moment of motherhood but tired eyes always seem to trump recording the days events.   I love the daily failures and successes of motherhood.  It's just hard to try and keep track of it all sometimes.  Hopefully its stored somewhere of that brain of mine and I'll always be able to remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1717639246209880300?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1717639246209880300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1717639246209880300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1717639246209880300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1717639246209880300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/04/trying-to-keep-track.html' title='Trying to keep track'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1977178028288293848</id><published>2010-04-13T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T13:40:00.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from Vacation</title><content type='html'>We spent Spring Break in Sacramento visiting family.  My baby sister is getting married - MARRIED- in August.  He's a great guy so it's okay but my baby sister is not supposed to be old enough to get married because that makes me really old! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has not been a good day.  I woke up this morning to flooded carpet from my bathroom shower broken pipe.  And my cat of 11 years is gone :(  Winston come home.  Plus I was tired from driving all day yesterday home from Sacramento.  And I had to leave my family there  :(  And my now potty trained 3 year old has peed twice on the carpet.  And my feet are cold but my warm boots got all wet as I was ripping up wet carpet. Which I had to cut and rip up all by myself because my husband is at work.  Which I'm really grateful that he has a job but not when I have to rip up the wet carpet by myself.  Especially since it was his shower that flooded the floor.    Boo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;.  Pity party for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But life is good.  I'm glad to be home. Only 2 months left until summer. And no more diapers! Yeah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1977178028288293848?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1977178028288293848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1977178028288293848' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1977178028288293848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1977178028288293848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/04/back-from-vacation.html' title='Back from Vacation'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4342472119371610787</id><published>2010-04-05T09:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T09:45:50.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Again</title><content type='html'>Can any 80's music lovers tell me who wrote the title of that song?  I'll give you a hint - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pennylover&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So much has gone on since I last wrote!  I've been bad.  It's hard not having a comrade inspiring me to write but alas I think I'm giving up on Annie (sorry, I still love you).  Are you coming back old friend or do I need to change the title of the blog to 1 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Trdmom&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was General Conference for our church which is when our church leaders address us   with inspiring and uplifting messages and counsel that always help me re-evaluate my path and things I can do to be better.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;USAToday&lt;/span&gt; had an article about it &lt;a href="http://www.usatoday.com/news/religion/2010-04-06-mormon05_ST_N.htm?csp=34&amp;amp;utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=feed&amp;amp;utm_campaign=Feed%3A+usatoday-NewsTopStories+%28News+-+Top+Stories%29&amp;amp;utm_content=My+Yahoo"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; which I was pleasantly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; to see on my yahoo homepage this morning.  One of the topics that seemed to be revisited several times was the importance of motherhood and parenting which really touched me and made me more resolute to do a better job at my job - being a mom.  It scares me to think of the world as it is out there for my children as they get older.  I sometimes think we should just hunker down in the house - I'll &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt; them, and I can keep them away from all the bad influences that exist.  But then I realize that  by doing that I wouldn't be teaching them anything, instead I need to arm them with the tools they will need to  withstand the temptations they will encounter and teach them to be strong, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;independent&lt;/span&gt; thinkers with loving and accepting hearts.  That's so hard.  Teaching children to hate the sin but love the sinner.  Our greatest example of that is of course our Savior Jesus Christ so I hold fast to his example and try to teach them about Him and the things He did for us.  But often I find it difficult to explain to them how there are bad things that go on in the world but we love everyone no matter what they do.  How do you teach them to Love all but to watch out for strangers who want to sneak you in their car at the same time. Anyway, I was reminded yesterday of how important my job really is and that there really isn't time to waste when raising young kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben is still wheezing.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;got&lt;/span&gt; lots of allergy tests done but they all came up negative.  I have some pictures of his tests I'll have to post when I get home.  Right now we are up in Sacramento spending Spring Break with family!  So fun to be here and see everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob is having a blast playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tball&lt;/span&gt; and is so cute!  Again, I'll have to post pictures when I get home.  And Emma is  almost always found with a book in her hand.  I have to take away her books at night or she'll stay up all night reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to be better about blogging.  I listened to a message yesterday about keeping a journal of our children's life and felt a little guilt because I've been so bad at writing down the things my kids do and say each day.  Honestly with the technology we have today I have no excuse.   So you can hold me to it - I'll be on here more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;postedit:  I have no problem with homeschooling and would actually love to do it if I had the organizational skills and patience to do it and I admire those out there that do.  My reference was more to the effect that I would love to lock my doors to the world and protect my kids from everything but know that I can't do that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4342472119371610787?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4342472119371610787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4342472119371610787' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4342472119371610787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4342472119371610787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/04/hello-again.html' title='Hello Again'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-9081847856218130284</id><published>2010-02-23T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T08:31:50.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happenings</title><content type='html'>Ben has a cough - a bad cough - a very  naughty cough that has woken me up at 3:18, 3:38, and 2:45 am respectively for the past three nights.  And the cough doesn't let me or him go back to sleep.  We end up laying down together with him coughing in my face until the sun comes up. Saturday night Dave took him to the ER because it was the first night the cough lasted 2 hours and I was very concerned.  The next two nights we knew all we could do is ride it out with steamy bathrooms and humidifiers.  I feel so bad for the poor little guy and right now I"m feeling pretty sad for myself as well.  I'm not a good mama when I don't get much sleep.  I'm either very grumpy and wake up shouting or I'm very relenting and let kids do whatever they want. It's either "Yes you can have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hershey&lt;/span&gt; kisses for breakfast - whatever - just shut my bedroom door on your way out" or "GET DRESSED FOR SCHOOL RIGHT NOW OR YOU'LL BE GROUNDED FOR A WEEK!".  It's not pretty.  I'm headed to the pharmacy to add &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Benedryl&lt;/span&gt; to the list of medications he's taking right now.  I'm hoping it will win me an afternoon nap. We need a small miracle at our house today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma bought a Pay Per View Movie this morning.   That's what kids can figure out when left to their own devices I guess.   I didn't even think you could do that on our T.V. so I guess I'm going to need to do a little research on how the parental controls work.  Luckily it was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs &lt;/span&gt;   and not one of those other titles like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Babes Gone Wild&lt;/span&gt; or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Jacob told me he can look forward with his eyes while pointing his feet out to the side.  "I'm very talented to be able to do this" he said.  "I have two talents - I can also run very fast". &lt;br /&gt;He's such a funny kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-9081847856218130284?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/9081847856218130284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=9081847856218130284' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9081847856218130284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9081847856218130284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/02/happenings.html' title='Happenings'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-70342718729474126</id><published>2010-02-04T09:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T10:17:12.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams</title><content type='html'>Every morning when my kids crawl under my covers at the wee hours of the morning I say the same thing.  "morning ______(insert child's name)"  "what did you dream about last night?" Sometimes it's good dreams and sometimes bad dreams.  They never want to retell the bad dreams.   If you have never done this with your child I highly recommend it.  It is amusing, endearing, and a great morning conversation starter.   I'm hoping that one day it will be such a habit the kids will just come in and tell me what they dreamt about without even asking!  I love the answers I get every morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma is especially creative in her dreams. (or at least her retelling of them)  Last night she had a dream that a huge tidal wave was coming  and God told us to run behind a big dirt mountain.  Then he said we could eat the dirt mountain so we all started eating it and it turned out to be chocolate chip cookie dough! She said it was an awesome dream. I didn't know she knew what a tidal wave was?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob's answer used to always be the same:&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  what did you dream about Jacob&lt;br /&gt;Jacob:  Disneyland and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Legoland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, if he is at all talkative, (which he very often is not) I could get him to tell me about some of the rides he went on at Disneyland or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Legoland&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning however, he had a different answer.  "Did you have nice dreams last night Jacob?"  I asked.  "nope" he said, "there was nothing in my brain last night".  Ha,ha...I laughed at that one.   He has a great knowledge of body parts and uses it often.  Like last week he told me our stomach reaches all the way up to our brains.  When I questioned him about it he said he just meant in dogs, not in humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben has never really answered my question before but this morning he told me he dreamt about taking pictures of roses.  At least that's what I interpreted him to be saying... We KNOW what he dreams about though because he quite often wakes us up in the middle of the night to tell us about it.  Like a few weeks ago when we heard the front door open and Ben running out of the house screaming...at 3:00am.  Dave ran after him and brought him into our room because he was convinced I was leaving and had run out to my car to stop me.  It took us awhile to convince him I was in bed and he needed to be in his!  Or last week when he came in our room screaming that Emma had come in and hit him (again at 3:00am and Emma was sound asleep).  We tried and tried to convince him Emma was asleep and he would have nothing of it so I finally told him she was on timeout for hitting and that seemed to appease him.  He finally went back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night I had a pretty weird dream.  I had a dream that an old friend posted a high school  video of us doing some funky dancing to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ice Ice Baby&lt;/span&gt;. (who doesn't love Vanilla Ice?)   I looked like a total dork with 80's bangs (much like I looked in high school) and my dance looked something like the Elaine dance from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Seinfield&lt;/span&gt;.   The only thought in my head  (my dream head that is) was "wow, look at my skin, I have no wrinkles, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ohhh&lt;/span&gt; I wish I had skin like that again".  Do you think I have some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;angst&lt;/span&gt; about aging?  I never really worry about it but I think my subconscious must be! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you dream about?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-70342718729474126?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/70342718729474126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=70342718729474126' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/70342718729474126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/70342718729474126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/02/dreams.html' title='Dreams'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3608843424099717157</id><published>2010-01-23T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T09:55:48.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends Where are you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="width: 483px; height: 463px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;I know you are there - see what my blog says - you visit but you don't comment!  Who are you?  Where are you?  London, Virginia, California, Utah....I know you are out there.  Feed my curiosity and leave me a comment - just one time - so I know I'm not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los Angeles, CA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sat, 23 Jan 2010 11:51:04 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Alexandria, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sat, 23 Jan 2010 11:29:13 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Burke, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sat, 23 Jan 2010 08:25:43 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Springfield, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sat, 23 Jan 2010 07:13:05 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Saint Neots, United Kingdom&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sat, 23 Jan 2010 04:05:13 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sacramento, CA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Sat, 23 Jan 2010 02:04:39 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Salt Lake City, UT, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 23:35:39 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fremont, CA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 21:54:03 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Alexandria, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 19:56:13 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Alexandria, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 18:25:30 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Chicago, IL, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 16:29:42 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Salt Lake City, UT, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 15:48:54 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Santa Clara, UT, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 15:26:48 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Woodbridge, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 14:23:36 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lexington, KY, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 13:52:42 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Alexandria, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 13:46:26 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;London, United Kingdom&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 12:50:19 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Lorton, VA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 12:44:46 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Costa Mesa, CA, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 12:28:46 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Jefferson City, TN, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 12:09:45 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;Provo, UT, United States&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;Fri, 22 Jan 2010 12:09:28 -0600&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3608843424099717157?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3608843424099717157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3608843424099717157' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3608843424099717157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3608843424099717157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/01/friends-where-are-you.html' title='Friends Where are you?'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1293512960444661889</id><published>2010-01-22T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T09:51:28.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections</title><content type='html'>I'm dropping Ben off at a friends house today for a bit while I go to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dr's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt;.  I was mentally thinking of what I needed to drop of with him and the thought came to mind (sorry this is gross but it's real life friends)  "well, he won't need any diapers since he pooped 10 times yesterday so at least she shouldn't have to change any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; diapers".   He's one of those that poops 10 times in one day and then doesn't go for a few days.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aaaannnyway&lt;/span&gt;....I was chuckling to myself thinking how when Emma was a toddler and I dropped her off somewhere to be watched for awhile I'd pack a whole diaper bag full of stuff - 10 diapers, wipes, extra pair of clothes, snacks, medical card etc. etc.  Now kid number three I practically throw out the van door as I drive by the sitters house.  No wonder birth order makes such a difference in behavior (or so they say).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been having awesome storms here this week.  Lots of heavy rain, a little thunder (not enough for my liking but at least a little) wind.   Some people had flooding, mudslides etc.  Today however the sun peeked out from behind the clouds for a bit and it was brilliantly sunny out.  As I drove up to my house there was a huge beautiful rainbow  across the sky that took my breath away for a moment.  Now if that isn't the most symbolic thing - a beautiful rainbow after the storm.  God is so marvelous.  It just reminded me of how things always come out better after we weather life's storms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when Emma was a baby and before we had to live on a school schedule I used to drive up to Sacramento to visit family more.  My little sister and I used to play super Mario Bros 3 on her Nintendo for hours!  We were addicted, we wanted to conquer the game...and we did.  My mom has pictures of me breastfeeding Emma with a Nintendo controller in my hands.  I got pretty good at it.  Well if you have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WII&lt;/span&gt; you might know they just came out with Super Mario Bros 3 for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;WII&lt;/span&gt; and my video game addiction has reared it's ugly head.  My little sister was here after the New Year and she, Dave, and I spent a good many hours on it until we conquered the game!  It was fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm afraid to say however I've passed my love of Super Mario on to my middle child.  Jacob is completely addicted.  I usually only let them play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;WII&lt;/span&gt; on Saturdays but with the rainy weather I've been a little more lenient.  Especially after he was sitting on the couch every morning reading the instruction book that came with the game for like two weeks.  One morning he said to me "mom, do you know why I like reading this book...it makes me feel like I'm actually playing the game".   The reason I usually only let them play Saturday's is because there is so much wailing and gnashing of teeth when I tell them it's time to turn off the game and I don't feel like dealing with it every day.  Jacob especially has a meltdown when it's time to turn it off.  He told me a couple of days ago though it's not his fault.  His body just cries when the game goes off and he can't control it.  It's not him doing it - it's his body.  Last night he again cried as I turned off the game and after I told him to go to his room until he was done he said "mom, it's my body, it's doing it again.  It's just crying and I can't control it".  It's so hard not to laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1293512960444661889?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1293512960444661889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1293512960444661889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1293512960444661889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1293512960444661889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/01/reflections.html' title='Reflections'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-9038920577335579396</id><published>2010-01-15T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T10:00:33.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A few of my Favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Two of my favorite quotes that I read recently. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Think about your particular assignment at this time in your life. It may be to get an education, it may be to rear children, it may be to be a grandparent, it may be to care for and relieve the suffering of someone you love, it may be to do a job in the most excellent way possible, it may be to support someone who has a difficult assignment of their own. Our assignments are varied and they change from time to time. Don't take them lightly. Give them your full heart and energy. Do them with enthusiasm. Do whatever you have to do this week with your whole heart and soul. To do less than this will leave you with an empty feeling."  Marjorie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hinckley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Forgive them anyway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;. If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Succeed anyway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;. If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. &lt;strong&gt;Be honest and sincere anyway.&lt;/strong&gt; What you spend years creating and building, others could destroy overnight. &lt;strong&gt;Create and build anyway&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. &lt;strong&gt;Be happy anyway&lt;/strong&gt;. The good you do today, will often be forgotten tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Do good anyway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;. Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Give the world the best you have anyway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;. You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; It was never between you and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; anyway&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Mother Teresa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't those inspiring.  I know they make me want to do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Emma's homework was to make a list of her favorite things and then ask a parent about theirs.  Then she had to write a paragraph about it.  Her is her list word for word.  I'll translate for you after -see how many you can guess:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Choclit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wayles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cupcakes&lt;br /&gt;cakes&lt;br /&gt;birthdays&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;kindnes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;freenis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doll's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;macup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nachr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;happynis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;singing&lt;br /&gt;writing&lt;br /&gt;math&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;speling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;scool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;crch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you get them all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the translation:&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;whales&lt;br /&gt;cupcakes&lt;br /&gt;cakes&lt;br /&gt;birthdays&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;kindness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;freenis&lt;/span&gt; (she said it meant being free to do what you want, I tried to explain it is freedom but she insisted it is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;freenis&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;freeness&lt;/span&gt;) like kindness)&lt;br /&gt;dolls&lt;br /&gt;makeup&lt;br /&gt;nature&lt;br /&gt;happiness&lt;br /&gt;singing&lt;br /&gt;writing&lt;br /&gt;math&lt;br /&gt;spelling&lt;br /&gt;school ( I have to hang on to this list so I can remind her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; she tells me she hates school)&lt;br /&gt;church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorites were: Emma, Jacob, Benji, Daddy, chocolate, church, watching movies, and shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-9038920577335579396?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/9038920577335579396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=9038920577335579396' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9038920577335579396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9038920577335579396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/01/few-of-my-favorites.html' title='A few of my Favorites'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5393091798351653213</id><published>2010-01-14T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T10:55:59.828-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My kids have me in Stitches</title><content type='html'>If there is one thing motherhood does is bring out all of your emotions - pretty much on a daily basis.  The last couple of days I've been getting a lot of laughter from the things my kids have been saying.  It's hard to relay how funny the conversations are when you can't see the expressions on their faces or be in the moment but I'll attempt to do my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night the kids and I were watching American Idol together.    They were super into it and loved seeing people sing.  Every time someone got through to Hollywood they would cheer and jump up and down right along with the contestant.  When Simon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cowell&lt;/span&gt; rolled his eyes and one of the other judges made a big deal about it, they tried to roll their eyes too - I wish I had it captured on video.  Emma rolls her eyes side to side somewhat like and owl and Jacob just raises his eyebrows up and down.  I'm sure in another couple of years they will have the eye rolling down to a tee so I'm in no hurry for that one.  Anyway, towards then end of the show this long haired rocker type dude came on who could barely mumble out his words when he spoke so you know his singing was going to be bad.   The judges asked him what he was going to sing.  He said "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Every Time&lt;/span&gt; We Touch" by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Ascada&lt;/span&gt;.  I guess Jacob didn't hear what he said because he asked "what did he say he was going to sing?" and Emma belts out in dead seriousness  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Everytime&lt;/span&gt; I Get Touched by a Mosquito!"  "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ohhhh&lt;/span&gt;" Jacob replied.   Oh my, I lost it then.  I was already giggling with the eye rolling competition but that sent me over the edge laughing.  The kids looked at me strangely and couldn't figure out what I was laughing about.  I didn't have the heart to tell them he wasn't singing about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Jacob was playing this High School Musical dance mat game we have and he pointed to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt; girl and asked "what's her name again?"  I couldn't remember her name either and then he said "I think it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Sharptooth&lt;/span&gt;".  Then I remember her name was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Charpe&lt;/span&gt;.  I think he's watched one too many dinosaur movies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning Ben  didn't like the shirt I put on him.  I found him going through his shirt drawer looking for another one.  I said "can I help you find a new shirt?"  He agreed.  The conversation went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: this one?&lt;br /&gt;Ben:  Actually, no that one is Jacob's&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Oh, okay, how about this one?&lt;br /&gt;Ben: No, that one doesn't have a picture on it&lt;br /&gt;Mom: This one?&lt;br /&gt;Ben: No, that one has a pocket on it.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Okay...How about this one?&lt;br /&gt;Ben: No, that on belongs to peoples&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Well Ben, what shirt do you want to wear?&lt;br /&gt;Ben looks thoughtfully through the discarded pile of shirts "how about this one?" as he pulls out the one with the pocket.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: okay, and I start pulling it over his head only to be met with fierce resistance&lt;br /&gt;Ben : No!  that one has a pocket!&lt;br /&gt;Finally we settle on one with trucks on it that he originally claimed to be Jacobs.  I have to say I was quite impressed with his vocabulary after the conversation but even more impressed by his sense of style.  Dump trucks way outshine a silly pocket.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5393091798351653213?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5393091798351653213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5393091798351653213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5393091798351653213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5393091798351653213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-kids-have-me-in-stitches.html' title='My kids have me in Stitches'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1359334706212024132</id><published>2009-12-17T08:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T08:53:16.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Personality</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SypcSOi6oQI/AAAAAAAAHko/ShmA2d71E5I/s1600-h/erard-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 559px; height: 342px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SypcSOi6oQI/AAAAAAAAHko/ShmA2d71E5I/s400/erard-8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416242970078388482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an awesome new neighbor.  We love the whole family!  Four kids, 2 cats, a dog...crazy house just like ours. We borrow things from each other all the time, feel comfortable sending our kids over to each others houses, and have great chats.    On top of all that she's a professional photographer and offered to take our family Christmas photo.   However,  with both our busy schedules and the rain, we've been unable to connect.  Finally on Sunday the planets aligned and it stopped raining for an hour so we quickly gathered everyone up after church and tried to take some pics.   Now, this isn't the one I used for my Christmas card -  but I have to say it is my FAVORITE picture she took because it captured &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; personality in my family perfectly!&lt;br /&gt;It probably isn't noticeable to the common eye but I can see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; true self just spilling out from the picture.  Let me interpret for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma - Crazy, vivacious, always laughing (when she's not crying), loves life, never stops until her head hits the pillow kind of girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob - shy but sneaky.  Loves to play practical jokes on people.  Is kind of shy and quiet but thinks he is totally funny.  Comes up with the funniest comments ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben -   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SOOO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mischievous&lt;/span&gt;.  Doesn't that look just scream "Yeah I'm a troublemaker but I'm so cute how can you resit?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave - hates getting his photo taken and being made by his wife to sit in a photo shoot.  See that little crooked smirk on his face - it's saying "how much longer do I have to sit through this torture"?.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - I can't believe we are all sitting here at the same time and nobody is whining, yelling, or hitting anyone else.  Wearing the "boring-white-shirt-because-I-didn't-have-time-to-find- myself-something-cute-to-wear-with-the-getting-everybody-else-ready" outfit.  Thinking - good thing this is right after church so I already had makeup on and my hair semi brushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just laugh to myself when I see this picture.  Here are some more for your viewing enjoyment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SypgykhnVFI/AAAAAAAAHkw/kzeAW12_-_8/s1600-h/erard-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SypgykhnVFI/AAAAAAAAHkw/kzeAW12_-_8/s400/erard-10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416247923780834386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphRQ1AgtI/AAAAAAAAHk4/eRrVm7MYTyo/s1600-h/erard-11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphRQ1AgtI/AAAAAAAAHk4/eRrVm7MYTyo/s400/erard-11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416248451069412050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphSE8lqbI/AAAAAAAAHlI/v-7XGcoDECA/s1600-h/erard-18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphSE8lqbI/AAAAAAAAHlI/v-7XGcoDECA/s400/erard-18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416248465059850674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphSSwp46I/AAAAAAAAHlQ/SlYBN_Qzw7E/s1600-h/erard-22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphSSwp46I/AAAAAAAAHlQ/SlYBN_Qzw7E/s400/erard-22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416248468767892386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphSi5wzPI/AAAAAAAAHlY/EsvGq8v3Y_c/s1600-h/erard-31.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SyphSi5wzPI/AAAAAAAAHlY/EsvGq8v3Y_c/s400/erard-31.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416248473101061362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1359334706212024132?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1359334706212024132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1359334706212024132' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1359334706212024132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1359334706212024132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/12/personality.html' title='Personality'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SypcSOi6oQI/AAAAAAAAHko/ShmA2d71E5I/s72-c/erard-8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2547966911161498469</id><published>2009-12-15T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T08:30:22.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little late</title><content type='html'>That's me this Christmas...a little late on everything.  Actually, that's me this whole YEAR!  I feel like I'm always two steps behind trying to catch up.  I noticed I still have a Halloween picture as the last entry on the blog and it's almost Christmas!  No mention of Thanksgiving and thankfulness or upcoming Christmas fun.  Two steps behind...I don't even have a tree yet!  Can you believe it!  I usually get my tree as soon as the the turkey is gone and the leftover cranberries are washed down the sink.  I got sick the day after thanksgiving this year and that put me down for a week. On top of that my house has been partly under construction by my dad and it's been rainingn so it's just been hard to get out and get a tree.   Now I'm four steps behind on Christmas and two steps on the rest of life.  Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent Dave to get a tree with the kids last night and they came home empty handed.  Apparently if you wait until a week before Christmas all they have left are 3 ft trees or 9 ft trees.  And since I asked him to get a 5 or 6 ft tree he came home with none since he NEVER deviates from what I tell him to do.    Honestly at this point I would have been happy with a 3 footer.  I'm taking an easy approach to Christmas this year.  Since it's a sort duration my tree will actually be up now I wouldn't mind a little one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been enjoying all the Christmas cards immensly - thank you to all of you who are way more on top of things than myself and already mailed them.  I may get mine out next week sometime.  I do have them...I just have to mail them.  It's so fun catching up at least once year with those who live far away.  One thing I love about Christmas.  Rekindling old friendships.  I also love Christmas movies - we've been watching one a day thanks to TIVO and ABC family.   I love Christmas crafts - we've also been doing one a day.  It's actually cold here right now and we've had several days of rain so it feels even more like Christmas!  We actually had hot chocolate the other day and have to wear sweaters and shoes to go outside!  I love it! I  love decorating for Christmas.  I love it so much I've just been doing a little bit each day.  Usually I do one day of decorating with the tree, the house etc.  Since I don't have a tree yet that hasn't happened.   I still have Pumpkins on my porch and a scarecrow out front underneath the Christmas lights (which I did get put up all by myself thank you very much).  I plan on stashing away the rest of the Thanksgiving stuff today and going out on a hunt for the perfect-whatever-is-left-on-the-lot tree.  I have to say - it's been a little nice going slow this season. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll be back before Christmas or not so if not - Merry Christmas friends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2547966911161498469?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2547966911161498469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2547966911161498469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2547966911161498469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2547966911161498469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/12/little-late.html' title='A little late'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-8912646367198081011</id><published>2009-11-20T09:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T10:15:53.395-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Swbca6GXOjI/AAAAAAAAF58/jpdfQjVucgQ/s1600/IMG_3980.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Swbca6GXOjI/AAAAAAAAF58/jpdfQjVucgQ/s400/IMG_3980.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406250757535513138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ants attacked the Halloween candy this morning.  Thank goodness I can feel good about throwing that all away today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pumpkin shortage is over...that's the good news.  Thanks everyone for the tips on where to buy it.  Funny enough I stocked up on pumpkin yet I've been buying pumpkin pies from places like Costco and Trader Joe's because they are oh so yummy.  I'll save my pumpkin cans for the next shortage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just feel an overwhelming urge to just hang on to my kids so tight and never let them go.  Of course they wriggle free before I can smother them with kisses but those few minutes they are snuggled up in my arms is so wonderful.  Ben is the best at this.  He loves giving me kisses and hugs and will just come up to me at random times during the day, give me a kiss, and say "I love you mom".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's true what they say that the way your child acts at 2, 4, 6 correlates with how they will act at 12, 14, 16 etc... I'm taking offers now to house a 16 year old in 10 years.  Any takers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-8912646367198081011?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/8912646367198081011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=8912646367198081011' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8912646367198081011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8912646367198081011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/11/randomness.html' title='Randomness'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Swbca6GXOjI/AAAAAAAAF58/jpdfQjVucgQ/s72-c/IMG_3980.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-8943083530959073855</id><published>2009-10-13T08:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T13:58:48.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Fall Ya'all</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/StSkgc4vizI/AAAAAAAAEks/mi3vm4xtV8s/s1600-h/pumpkin1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/StSkgc4vizI/AAAAAAAAEks/mi3vm4xtV8s/s400/pumpkin1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392115531286285106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/StSkFi8Wc5I/AAAAAAAAEkk/cimt4hPxnzo/s1600-h/pumpkin.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 1px; height: 1px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/StSkFi8Wc5I/AAAAAAAAEkk/cimt4hPxnzo/s400/pumpkin.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392115069055562642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay that's so cliche but I couldn't help it.  I love Fall!  Who doesn't right?  Scarecrows on the front porch, pumpkins by the front door begging to be carved, and actually being able to pull the sweaters out of the closet (here in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SoCal&lt;/span&gt; that only last for a few days so we really take advantage).   Can't you just smell that pumpkin pie cooking in the oven...or maybe not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite Fall traditions is making my favorite&lt;a href="http://ldsmom.envisionr.com/recipes/12/#toc-pumpkin-bars"&gt; Pumpkin Bars recipe&lt;/a&gt; courtesy of our long lost blogger friend Annie.  I love these things!  I make them every year -  several times in fact.  I love  giving them out to neighbors and taking them to any Fall Festivities we might be attending.  Imagine my surprise when I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Vons&lt;/span&gt; last week to stock up on my canned pumpkin for the season only to find out there is a NATIONWIDE CANNED PUMPKIN SHORTAGE!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Whaaat&lt;/span&gt;? At first I thought the teenage clerk helping me just didn't know what aisle the pumpkin was on (I couldn't find it anywhere) and was trying to brush me off.   But after he confirmed with his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;manager&lt;/span&gt; that the shelves were empty and he didn't know when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;any would&lt;/span&gt; be coming in - I was shocked.  One more thing to add to my food storage - canned pumpkin.  Who would have thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked it up on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; when I got home and sure enough there is a shortage.  "They"  say not to worry, production will catch up but I'm not taking any chances.  I bought the last three cans they had a Stater Brothers and I'm keeping my eyes open for more.  Have you tried to pie canned pumpkin this year? Am I being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;punked&lt;/span&gt; or is there really a shortage?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-8943083530959073855?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/8943083530959073855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=8943083530959073855' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8943083530959073855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8943083530959073855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-fall-yaall.html' title='Happy Fall Ya&apos;all'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/StSkgc4vizI/AAAAAAAAEks/mi3vm4xtV8s/s72-c/pumpkin1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5811500276944634297</id><published>2009-10-01T20:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T21:10:33.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trees</title><content type='html'>Remember the age old question   "If a tree falls in the forest, and there is nobody around to hear it, does it still make a sound? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A favorite song around here is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trick or treat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Smell my feet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Give me something good to eat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt;, I don't care&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And then the line is supposed to say &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll pull down your underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Being the mean mom that I am I don't allow my kids to say the line about pulling down underwear.   To get around that they've been creative about inserting different silly things  like "I'll knock down your silly door" or "I'll take your rocket for a week or two" (they make no sense)  This song is sung any time of year whether it's Halloween or not.   On occasion I have heard them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;whispering&lt;/span&gt; into friends ears what the forbidden line  is and everybody giggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight Emma was walking into the kitchen singing the song and caught herself before belting out the line about underwear.  She quickly inserted some silly phrase about rockets for the sake of her mother who was listening (me).  Then she asked "mom, if I sing it to a tree than is it okay since they don't wear underwear anyway?" I gave her a funny look and said "huh?"  She replied "If I sing to a tree, and nobody is standing by me, than is it okay since the trees don't have underwear ?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...the question isn't whether a tree falling in the forest makes a sound.  The real question is: if you sing to a tree about pulling down it's underwear does it really count as something naughty since trees don't wear underwear?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5811500276944634297?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5811500276944634297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5811500276944634297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5811500276944634297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5811500276944634297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/10/trees.html' title='Trees'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5108096490531790466</id><published>2009-09-30T20:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T20:26:31.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Love This Kid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SsQhWnxklCI/AAAAAAAAEB8/ammn2zE-70o/s1600-h/IMG_3813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SsQhWnxklCI/AAAAAAAAEB8/ammn2zE-70o/s400/IMG_3813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387467726759695394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tonight at bedtime:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start tucking Jacob in, but then he remembered he forgot to brush his teeth.  We go and do that and on the way back to his room I say "why don't you go kneel down and say your prayers and I'll just watch by the door" (I usually kneel down with him but I was oh so tired tonight and trying to take a shortcut.)  I mentioned the fact that he was getting older and could start doing that on his own.  His response "but mom, I'm the same years old as I was before so I still want you to come in".   How can I argue with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;During his prayer:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please bless everyone that they will sleep good tonight, except the robbers and the bad guys, don't bless them to sleep good, but bless the good guys that they will sleep good.  Bless the poor people that might have to sleep on the ground because it's hard, please bless that they can sleep good and make the ground not so hard for them".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5108096490531790466?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5108096490531790466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5108096490531790466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5108096490531790466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5108096490531790466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/09/why-i-love-this-kid.html' title='Why I Love This Kid'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SsQhWnxklCI/AAAAAAAAEB8/ammn2zE-70o/s72-c/IMG_3813.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6799343651861325828</id><published>2009-09-30T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T18:50:40.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Recap</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Moments Today:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;iphone&lt;/span&gt; light sabers with Ben - me on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;iphone&lt;/span&gt; and he on my dad's.  Swinging &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;iphones&lt;/span&gt; at each other and watching his face saying "I got you!" all to the background sound of Star Wars and Light Sabers - best App I've downloaded yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picking cherry tomatoes off the vine and popping them in my mouth while out enjoying the backyard. Watching the kids pick beans and tomatoes off the vine and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;popping&lt;/span&gt; them in their mouths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dumbest thing I did today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Turned on the Rotisserie to cook the Rotisserie chicken but forgot to turn on the heat.  It was spinning round and round but not getting cooked.  Delayed dinner by one hour.  Had to turn on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dinotrain&lt;/span&gt; for the kids to watch to appease the wait.  Have you seen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dinotrain&lt;/span&gt;?  PBS.  My kids love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What I didn't get done today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Finish the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mop the floor&lt;br /&gt;Plant my fall garden&lt;br /&gt;clean my room&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What I did get done today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Went on a walk with a friend&lt;br /&gt;Played Thomas cards with Jacob (thanks Wendy)&lt;br /&gt;Fixed some sprinkler heads&lt;br /&gt;Checked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practiced the Piano&lt;br /&gt;Finished my Visiting Teaching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6799343651861325828?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6799343651861325828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6799343651861325828' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6799343651861325828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6799343651861325828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/09/daily-recap.html' title='Daily Recap'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6011213186123530108</id><published>2009-09-28T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T21:43:07.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signing In</title><content type='html'>Back to School, Back to early bedtimes, Back to the blog.  Wow it's been a long time.  So long it took me a few tries to find the right password to log in.  I feel a little rusty at this but I'm sure it will all come flowing back to me just like riding a bike, which I have been doing lately and I haven't fallen off yet.   There is so much to say I couldn't possibly say it all so I'll just start with the present.  This will be a little bit of a boring catch up about which each of my kids are doing, more for my record keeping than for yours but if your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;interested&lt;/span&gt; keep reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first few weeks of first grade were rough!  Not at school.  Emma's doing great at school.  It's not until she gets home that the explosions happen.  I think sitting in a classroom all day on her best behavior just about took it all out of her.  She comes home and throws tantrums &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;reminiscent&lt;/span&gt; of her three's and four's.  My patience was all but got and things have finally settled down.   She really likes her teacher, she loves recess, and has done the monkey bars so much she has blisters all over both hands.   I so remember those days!  Monkey bar blisters, tether ball bruises on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pinky&lt;/span&gt; - oh the memories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob is in "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-k" as they call it at his school instead of preschool and he just thinks he's so cool being in "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-k" this year.  He has a really great teacher.  He's gotten this really crazy streak lately which is new for him and quite honestly I hope it doesn't last long because I can only handle one crazy kid and stay sane.  For those of you who know my kids know which one I'm talking about!  I need my mellow middle child to stay mellow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben is just such a funny kid!  He loves life and lives it large.  He has a great vocabulary and keeps us laughing.  He's starting to hit that "I don't want to take a nap stage" and my brain is screaming "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;noooooo&lt;/span&gt;"  I'm not ready for that yet! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my favorite Fall shows have started and I even have missed the first episode of most of them.  Usually I"m on pins and needles and Fall line up doesn't start soon enough for me.  But this year I was like "what???  it's already Fall and I've missed my shows?"  I swear summer flew by.  I loved summer this year.  We traveled, we relaxed, we swam, we slept in sometimes (by sleep in I mean 7:30), and we stayed up late.  I didn't stress about bedtime or dinnertime and all that.  We just lived &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Joi&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;de&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Vivre&lt;/span&gt; and it was great.  I was sad to see it come to an end.  I guess since it was our first &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;real &lt;/span&gt;school year it was our first&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; real &lt;/span&gt;summer.  When you're a mom of little ones seasons don't really mean a whole lot except for the holidays.  (especially in So Cal where the weather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; even change).   You don't have to plan vacations by a calender or schedule &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;dr&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;appt's&lt;/span&gt; for after school hours.  It's so nice.  It takes getting used to have school age kids - the whole ballgame changes.  Now I have to plan vacations at the same time everyone else does.   &lt;br /&gt; At first I was really bummed for school to be starting, having to run a routine again, run kids here and there, and lose the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;carefree - ness&lt;/span&gt; of summer.  But now that we're in the swing of things I'm actually starting to enjoy start of a new season.   So Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Yom&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Kippur&lt;/span&gt; (we got it off school), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Columbus&lt;/span&gt; Day, Halloween, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt; and here's to a Fall full of joy and laughter.   What are you going to be for Halloween this year?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6011213186123530108?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6011213186123530108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6011213186123530108' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6011213186123530108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6011213186123530108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/09/signing-in.html' title='Signing In'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4890375251015681781</id><published>2009-08-10T20:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T17:44:27.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Busy to Blog</title><content type='html'>You'll have to excuse my absence this summer, we've been too busy to blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp_K2gCrI/AAAAAAAABSA/8a8PHZoEfvs/s1600-h/IMG_3402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp_K2gCrI/AAAAAAAABSA/8a8PHZoEfvs/s320/IMG_3402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368548027279608498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking road trips...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpZi2qx6I/AAAAAAAABRg/vLVUkezDC3Y/s1600-h/IMG_6603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpZi2qx6I/AAAAAAAABRg/vLVUkezDC3Y/s320/IMG_6603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368547380887734178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpZHex3yI/AAAAAAAABRY/N07vQJIFBMI/s1600-h/IMG_6597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpZHex3yI/AAAAAAAABRY/N07vQJIFBMI/s320/IMG_6597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368547373539778338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpY9xNP0I/AAAAAAAABRQ/IeF9SW65VqA/s1600-h/IMG_6595.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpY9xNP0I/AAAAAAAABRQ/IeF9SW65VqA/s320/IMG_6595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368547370932715330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Playing at the beach...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDo2WnIosI/AAAAAAAABRI/I2R5sMjosTw/s1600-h/IMG_6544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDo2WnIosI/AAAAAAAABRI/I2R5sMjosTw/s320/IMG_6544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368546776305935042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swimming in the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoHfPvTzzII/AAAAAAAABUk/GxdnP8oSSH0/s1600-h/IMG_6563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoHfPvTzzII/AAAAAAAABUk/GxdnP8oSSH0/s320/IMG_6563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368817692292926594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to baseball games&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:1854/169123bf57692d30b7fb75c0c3f42298/image/10cdfd183a498c45.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:1854/169123bf57692d30b7fb75c0c3f42298/image/10cdfd183a498c45.jpg?size=320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp-9jZgNI/AAAAAAAABR4/akRhdPy0fnQ/s1600-h/IMG_6539.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp-9jZgNI/AAAAAAAABR4/akRhdPy0fnQ/s320/IMG_6539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368548023709827282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoHfP4e7WcI/AAAAAAAABUs/26GF9riP91Y/s1600-h/IMG_6534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoHfP4e7WcI/AAAAAAAABUs/26GF9riP91Y/s320/IMG_6534.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368817694755477954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching our Monarch Catepillars grow and build cacoons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:1854/169123bf57692d30b7fb75c0c3f42298/image/cfd8ba697936fce3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:1854/169123bf57692d30b7fb75c0c3f42298/image/cfd8ba697936fce3.jpg?size=320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp_WO9TqI/AAAAAAAABSI/IdrWR-gIffM/s1600-h/IMG_6607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp_WO9TqI/AAAAAAAABSI/IdrWR-gIffM/s320/IMG_6607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368548030334979746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoHfQS57r-I/AAAAAAAABU0/xM1MSSeQDgo/s1600-h/IMG_6535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoHfQS57r-I/AAAAAAAABU0/xM1MSSeQDgo/s320/IMG_6535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368817701848068066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harvesting the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:1854/169123bf57692d30b7fb75c0c3f42298/image/e18dd0e225f146a3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://localhost:1854/169123bf57692d30b7fb75c0c3f42298/image/e18dd0e225f146a3.jpg?size=320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpZ0ugBxI/AAAAAAAABRo/GA75XCq4Loo/s1600-h/IMG_3072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDpZ0ugBxI/AAAAAAAABRo/GA75XCq4Loo/s320/IMG_3072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368547385685313298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoNh0O4M04I/AAAAAAAABcE/HtFnwiywjMc/s1600-h/IMG_6537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoNh0O4M04I/AAAAAAAABcE/HtFnwiywjMc/s320/IMG_6537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369242730730673026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoying our new pets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you in the Fall!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4890375251015681781?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4890375251015681781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4890375251015681781' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4890375251015681781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4890375251015681781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/08/too-busy-to-blog.html' title='Too Busy to Blog'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SoDp_K2gCrI/AAAAAAAABSA/8a8PHZoEfvs/s72-c/IMG_3402.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6723754215957316085</id><published>2009-07-21T06:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T07:01:39.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Mornings</title><content type='html'>Can I just say...I love Summer mornings!   Kids sleeping in a little from all they partying the day before (sleeping in means 7:00am), laying in bed contemplating what I'm going to do when I get up and none of it involves carpooling or packing lunches, watching the kids stumble to the couch with bushy hair and sleepy eyes (usually in their underwear as we've been on a summer pajama strike) giving me snuggles before they move on to their morning activities.  *sigh*  Summer is half over and I'm already not looking forward to going back to school.     I didn't really differentiate between summer and any other season (except for the weather) until I had two kids in school last year.    All the hustle and bustle of getting kids out the door in the morning is not missed around here.  Although I guess if we didn't have that hustle and bustle I wouldn't appreciate these relaxed summer mornings as much.  I'm sure as the kids get older and the craziness gets crazier - I'll appreciate even more these lazy summer mornings with nothing to do, nowhere to be, no people to see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6723754215957316085?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6723754215957316085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6723754215957316085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6723754215957316085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6723754215957316085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-mornings.html' title='Summer Mornings'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2903837738053697364</id><published>2009-07-18T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T22:21:21.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to start</title><content type='html'>I'm one of those people who instead of tackling a big job one piece at a time just gives up because the task looks too big to accomplish. Then I procrastinate doing said job until it's out of control and then I kick myself for not having done it.  Does that make sense?  Anyway, that's kind of how the blog is right now.  I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; much to talk about I always think it's too big of a task for right now so I'll do it later.  In the meantime things keep happening and it just adds to my list of things I want to blog about until I don't even know where to start!  So I'll start right here, right now with a quick rundown of the summer.  We had a great time on our trip and my next post will be pictures from our adventure.  The kids did great traveling and it was a great way to start off summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have 2 chickens - Lu &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lu&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bellamara&lt;/span&gt; (Betsy had to be returned because she was too loud) and yesterday we got a new kitten - Brownie - while we were returning Betsy to the fed store.  We have been swimming like crazy in the pool since we got home from Texas.  Ben is almost completely swimming now and loves to jump off the diving board - he is such a crazy 2 year old!  We've pretty much been staying in our pj's until we put on our swim suits.  Then we come in all tired out, Ben goes down for a nap and the kids watch a movie and we have a nice quiet late afternoon until dinner.  I'm trying to potty train Ben so he's been commando for the last couple of days.  They jury is still out on if I'm going to continue with it or give up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, lots of pictures forthcoming - stay tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2903837738053697364?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2903837738053697364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2903837738053697364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2903837738053697364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2903837738053697364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/07/where-to-start.html' title='Where to start'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6785979132233023646</id><published>2009-06-22T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T07:55:53.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Trip Day One</title><content type='html'>We left Friday around 2:00pm headed towards &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Paulden&lt;/span&gt;, AZ - my second home growing up.  I used to spend the summers here with my grandparents and it always feels like coming home when I'm here. They live in the middle of nowhere and it's so quiet here it let's your soul relax from the chaos of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; parking lot in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kingman&lt;/span&gt; Arizona on Friday around 10:00pm and decided to sleep there for the night (we are traveling in my dad's 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; wheel).  Jacob and Emma were in the same bed and they kept bugging each other - the old "he's touching me" or "she's breathing on me!" routine. I finally got up and threatened them with life and limb if they didn't settle down and go to sleep.  As I crawled back in bed they both started crying because I "hurt their feelings".  My first thought was  "be quiet or I will give you something to cry about!" but then I chuckled under my breath because we were all just so tired it was comical.  I got a few hours of sleep between sweating to death and the yellow flashing lights of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; security guard truck until Ben woke up at 4:00 am and decided he was ready for the day.  He and I hung out in the cab of my dad's truck so he didn't wake up everyone else and then at 6:00 am we headed over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; for something to do and so I didn't have to keep hiding my dad's pack of Tums from Ben.  I felt like a piece of work walking around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; at 6:00am in my pj's with a baby in his shirt and a diaper only.  Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed off in the morning to my grandparents and have spent the last few days here relaxing, eating homemade ice cream, and crushing rocks.  Yes the poor rocks here dread when they hear us approaching for a visit.  Jacob's favorite thing to do here is crush rocks on a vice my grandpa has mounted outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was the first night I got a full nights sleep as Ben decided to have more midnight escapades on Saturday night.  I was looking forward to a bleak vacation with no sleep but I think we've turned a corner.  ((fingers crossed))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we are headed off to Tucson to visit great friends of ours who moved out there this year,   and then on to New &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Mexico&lt;/span&gt; to explore Carlsbad Caverns.   The kids are being pretty good so far, let's hope it lasts.  I'm trying to teach them to be patient and in the car I said to them "hold your horses!" as they were all barraging me at the same time for something.  Jacob started looking around and said "what horses?"  Such a funny kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6785979132233023646?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6785979132233023646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6785979132233023646' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6785979132233023646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6785979132233023646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/06/road-trip-day-one.html' title='Road Trip Day One'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5541779724384708156</id><published>2009-06-18T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T08:32:18.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End of an Era, The Beginning of a Journey</title><content type='html'>Saturday night we threw a little shin-dig to celebrate Ben &amp;amp; Dave's June birthdays.  Come &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nap time&lt;/span&gt;, Ben saw that festivities were about to happen and  decided he was way too grown up for nap time anymore.   He decided instead it would be a good time to learn how to climb out of  his crib.  As I was standing in my room blowing up balloons and he came waltzing in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;binky&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;blankie&lt;/span&gt; in hand like it was perfectly normal for him to get out of bed,  my heart sank at the bad news.  I'm not ready for my third to give up naps quite yet!  My other two didn't learn to get out much later than this and they really liked being in their cribs.  He's never really been a fan in the first place so I could see we were going to have a struggle on our hands!  I quickly put him back in bed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;and assured&lt;/span&gt; him the party wouldn't be starting until after he took a nap but he was having none of it!  He proceeded to climb out three or four more times until he finally conked out and hour or so later - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hooray&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily the last few days he has still been going to bed and naps fine and just getting himself up when he's done sleeping - until yesterday.  Two hours!  Two hours I tried to get him to take a nap.  I'd put him in bed and a few minutes later I'd find him in my closet sneaking into something or playing underneath Jacob's bed.  I tried the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;super nanny&lt;/span&gt; method of not saying anything to him - just lifting him up and placing him back in bed.  After two hours I gave up.  I let him go watch t.v. with Emma while I worked on packing for our trip.  I walked out into the family room and Ben was asleep on the floor in front of the t.v.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He slept for 2.5 hours in the middle of the family room like this with us making noise around him and everything.  What a little stinker.  Hopefully the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nap time&lt;/span&gt; battles don't continue &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; we are leaving on Friday for a big trip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are taking a 2 week &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;road trip&lt;/span&gt; through Arizona, New Mexico, and final destination is Texas to visit my brother and his family in Round Rock.  I usually don't announce when I'm leaving on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; but don't worry robbers - I have an alarm that works great (see here) and will be on.  And my husband will still be her so don't get any ideas about breaking in while I"m gone.  Plus I have these new attack chickens that will peck you to death if you try anything funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;visting&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;friends&lt;/span&gt; and family in various locations on the way and staying at a few campgrounds in the middle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Timbuktu&lt;/span&gt; (because that's all there is between here and Texas - a bunch of nothing!) We are going in my dad's 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; wheel (my dad being the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;chauffeur&lt;/span&gt; of course) and I'm hoping it's lot of fun.  (hope, hope, hope!)  I think the kids are going to like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, I've packed 100 things to do into a very short time frame for getting ready to leave for our trip.  I always do that!  So although I'd like to blog I still need to pack my suitcase, plant a flowerbed, and finish my irrigation system on the garden so Happy Summer all and I'll be back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5541779724384708156?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5541779724384708156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5541779724384708156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5541779724384708156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5541779724384708156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/06/end-of-era-beginning-of-journey.html' title='The End of an Era, The Beginning of a Journey'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2211719034360694013</id><published>2009-06-11T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T09:12:10.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Builder</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged for a couple of days because I've been busy building a Chicken Tractor.  If you're wondering what that is you can see one &lt;a href="http://home.centurytel.net/thecitychicken/tractors.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.   Mine's a 5x8 A frame and it's taken me 3 days to build it.  As soon as I"m completely finished (which will be in the next hour because I'm picking up Sally and Betty, our new hens, at 11:30) I will post some pics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2211719034360694013?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2211719034360694013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2211719034360694013' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2211719034360694013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2211719034360694013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/06/busy-builder.html' title='Busy Builder'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1549510697715786438</id><published>2009-06-06T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T21:27:33.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy St. Patrick's Day</title><content type='html'>Okay - so I know it's June... not March.  But we had a fun St. Patrick's Day this year that I never blogged about and since I haven't scrapbooked in uh...over 2 years (cringe cringe) I wanted to record it for posterity sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma learned in Kindergarten about little green guys named Leprechauns...heard of them?  Well,  apparently they come during the night and cause all kinds of mischief.   Emma was so excited about them coming she made a trap to catch them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis81JUYsNI/AAAAAAAAAlY/Mtw6TxgGmJU/s1600-h/IMG_2713.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis81JUYsNI/AAAAAAAAAlY/Mtw6TxgGmJU/s320/IMG_2713.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344432266537382098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you can't read her writing it says Welcome Leprechauns and there are little gold coins glued inside to lure them in.  She spent quite a bit of time on this so of course the little green guys had to show up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran to Walmart that night after the kiddos were sleeping and grabbed lucky charms, gold coins (which I think I actually ended up getting at CVS and were NOT easy to find), and green shirts.  I wrote a few letters from the "leprechauns".  The first one was left in Emma's bedroom by the trap and said something along the lines of 'Ha ha ha, you can't catch us but follow the shamrocks to a special surprise".  When Emma woke up she not only found the note but found her room to be turned upside down and she was wearing a green shirt that I slipped on her during the night.  She ran into my bedroom to show me the note and was so excited.   Jacob soon followed - in his green shirt as well and they both followed the shamrocks down the hallway and into the kitchen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis9tBmd4PI/AAAAAAAAAlg/96baTW01Frs/s1600-h/IMG_2718.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis9tBmd4PI/AAAAAAAAAlg/96baTW01Frs/s320/IMG_2718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344433226538410226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the table was another note with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis_LsiFpdI/AAAAAAAAAlo/H1uurkzYU7I/s1600-h/IMG_2717.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis_LsiFpdI/AAAAAAAAAlo/H1uurkzYU7I/s320/IMG_2717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344434852970472914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chocolate gold coins, crayons &amp;amp; scissors to make more crafty things like leprechaun traps, lucky charms and a note that said the milk in the fridge was green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids were so ecstatic and it was fun to see their excitement.  They were especially in awe of how those sneaky leprechauns got them in green shirts while they were sleeping.  Emma has vowed to make a souped up trap next year that will catch the leprechauns for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got to have green hair at school that day so I found this wig on clearance at Target which was much easier than trying to paint her hair green.  She was a little shy to wear it at first and wanted to take it off until kids in the first grade class next to hers said "awesome!" as she walked by.  Then she thought she was cool stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SitA4aVbtXI/AAAAAAAAAlw/KvYSdVjM8d8/s1600-h/IMG_2736.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SitA4aVbtXI/AAAAAAAAAlw/KvYSdVjM8d8/s320/IMG_2736.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344436720691295602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Ben wore his St. Patty's day shirt all of 5 minutes as he decided to help himself to some peanut butter for breakfast:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SitBZlv8hQI/AAAAAAAAAl4/QdpqDjrZNgE/s1600-h/IMG_2732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SitBZlv8hQI/AAAAAAAAAl4/QdpqDjrZNgE/s320/IMG_2732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344437290690970882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SitBZ33X8KI/AAAAAAAAAmA/dMk2ixv0wtg/s1600-h/IMG_2731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SitBZ33X8KI/AAAAAAAAAmA/dMk2ixv0wtg/s320/IMG_2731.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344437295553966242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall it was a pretty fun day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1549510697715786438?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1549510697715786438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1549510697715786438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1549510697715786438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1549510697715786438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-st-patricks-day.html' title='Happy St. Patrick&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sis81JUYsNI/AAAAAAAAAlY/Mtw6TxgGmJU/s72-c/IMG_2713.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6957192722823124443</id><published>2009-06-05T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T22:39:43.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SioA--5pW5I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/V6vILQyJw0s/s1600-h/IMG_2676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SioA--5pW5I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/V6vILQyJw0s/s320/IMG_2676.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344084989865188242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(This pic was taken in March 09)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe my baby is turning 2!  Two years have flown by and I can  hardly remember them.  This is going to be one of those indulgent posts where I go on and on celebrating his first two years so if you care to listen, read on. If not, that's okay...this is for my Benji to read in the future anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Benji is sick today so the celebration wasn't that grand.  It started early at 4:00 am while he and I laid on the couch together bemoaning our sickly state.  First I got it, now he has it only worse.  It's so sad when the little guys get sick and there is nothing you can do to fix it.    We snuggled for about an hour and his coughs subsided so I placed him back in bed and tried to sleep before the sun started peeking through my window which unfortunately was not long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did frost some cupcakes together and I do have pictures. (yeah for mom, remembered the camera)  I don't have a card reader at the moment so those will have to wait.  Even in all his snot and sickness he gave me some cute smiles. We would wish him happy birthday and he would wish it back.  I don't know that he quite got it but he did enjoy singing the happy birthday song and we taught him to say "I'm two".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So who is Benjamin, Benji, Benji &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wa&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wa&lt;/span&gt;, Baby Ben?  He is my baby.  He's cute, smiley, a real &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;jokster&lt;/span&gt;, and loves to be the center of attention since he has 2 older siblings that laugh at everything he does.  He's cuddly, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;snugly&lt;/span&gt;, and likes to stick his hand up my sleeve (or sometimes down the front of my shirt) when I'm carrying him.  He reminds me of a little monkey.  He's so smart and picks up on EVERYTHING! We went to a nursery the other morning and the guy there gave him a sucker.  We had to go back later that evening and the first thing he said when he saw the guy again was "sucker?"  He has a real bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sweet tooth&lt;/span&gt;!  He loves to be tickled, play song games like Patti Cakes and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Itsy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Bitsy&lt;/span&gt; Spider.  He is a true boy - he loves balls, dirt, cars and destruction in it's finest form.  He will sit outside and dig in any dirt he can find. We call him the troublemaker which is funny because that's what I've been called quite a few times over the years (although it's not true...I never cause trouble).  He gets into everything which my other 2 never did.  If my house is too quiet I know he's somewhere squeezing lotion all over the floor or he's found the hidden candy stash in my closet.  I probably treat  him the most babyish of all three  at his age,knowing that he may be my last.  But he's probably the sharpest and smartest of all three at his age and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; has a wider vocabulary like poo-poo head and Stop It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel bad because being the third child he hasn't gotten the benefit of having as much mommy time as the other two.  Then I watch the three of them together (when they are actually playing nicely on rare occasion) and I realized he hasn't missed out at all.  He has not just mommy &amp;amp; daddy but an older brother and sister that would bend over backwards for him.  Even if at times they treat him like a plush toy and drag him around everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been a good sport thus far in life.  From being dragged around as a newborn back and forth from preschool (it was always during feeding time and he was always screaming) to being picked up and carried down the hallway or around the grass by big brother and sister.  He's one tough kid and we love him.  Happy Birthday Baby Ben.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6957192722823124443?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6957192722823124443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6957192722823124443' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6957192722823124443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6957192722823124443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-birthday-baby.html' title='Happy Birthday Baby!'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SioA--5pW5I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/V6vILQyJw0s/s72-c/IMG_2676.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-588015408482335486</id><published>2009-05-31T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T21:47:17.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's Weekend Stay-In</title><content type='html'>Most mom's go on get-a-way's to relax for the weekend right?  I did the opposite - I stayed home and sent my family away and it was AWESOME!  So relaxing and I actually had a clean house for the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night I sponsored the Girl's Night at my house for our church group so Dave took the kids down to his parents.  He decided since he was out of town for mother's day this would be his opportunity to make it up to me by staying there for the weekend.  I quickly agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the girl's night which lasted into the morning hours I watched Bride Wars on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PPV&lt;/span&gt; and finally fell asleep on the couch at 3:30 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning I planned to go garage sailing with a friend so she knocked on my door at 7:00 am and we were off.  We found a few good treasures and had fun looking and then she dropped me off home around 9:00 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had plans to go back to sleep but the thought of having free time and not doing anything with it just ate away at me so I hopped in the car and drove down to the "old town" area of the new city we moved to in September.  I've been wanting to go down there forever,  but it's a cute little Main Street USA area with quaint antique shops and quirky stores...not a place to visit with small children with sticky hands and loud voices. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first stop was the &lt;a href="http://www.flyinggeese.net/"&gt;Flying Geese Quilt shop&lt;/a&gt; (which was right next door the The Swing Door bar).  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ohhhhh&lt;/span&gt; the fabrics and the quilts in there.  I was salivating and I'm not even good at quilting.  Then I walked across the street to a Bill's Hobby shop full of model plans, trains, kites and random little trinkets covered in a layer of dust. Then there was a room dedicated to Irish looking stuff and St. Patrick's day decorations.  It was really quite odd.  Next door was Bill's Suit Shop which I hope for his sake gets more business than his hobby shop.  Next I stopped at Aunt Bee's Antiques which also houses the city post office. I'm loving it...LOVING IT!  I live in the middle of the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OC&lt;/span&gt;" full of countless strip malls and upscale retail centers and yet my city still has the small town feeling of yesteryear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped in for breakfast at Quinn's Pub (another Irish theme) and had the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;delish&lt;/span&gt; Veggie Omelet and hash browns ever!  That place is on my list of places to go back to.  I was at a table and as I sat there people kept walking in and would sit up at the bar to order breakfast.  I felt like I was on a scene from Cheers because everyone knew each other and the waitresses called everyone by name.  My waitresses name was Suzi and she called me Jenny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; she helped me.  Seriously - small town feeling.  LOVING IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked across the street to the Thrift store and found a few good bargains and then meandered through a few more shops like The Native American Black Crow Relaxation Center and an old house converted to an antique store.   I'm telling you - this is my kind of town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of a few projects I need to do at home so I headed over to Home Depot, then to Lowe's, then to a local guy selling plants on his driveway for 2.00, then to a local nursery...I have a serious plant addiction right now!  I spent the rest of the evening at home working on the yard and then picked up dinner at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; and a movie from Blockbuster - The Curious Case of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Benjamin&lt;/span&gt; Button.  I totally fell asleep 1/3 of the way through because it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;SOOO&lt;/span&gt; boring! I don't know what the hype is on that movie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave and the kids met me at church this morning and it's really nice to have everyone home again although I have to say - having a clean and quiet house all weekend was a pretty nice treat.  I never had to sweep the floor once!  Now I'm ready for summer and the 2 week road trip I'm going to take the kids on through Arizona New Mexico and Texas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've never had a Weekend Stay-In  I highly recommend it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-588015408482335486?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/588015408482335486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=588015408482335486' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/588015408482335486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/588015408482335486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/moms-weekend-stay-in.html' title='Mom&apos;s Weekend Stay-In'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6442277329118138951</id><published>2009-05-23T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T21:58:48.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby</title><content type='html'>I can't believe how fast Benji is growing up.  Tonight the older two kids were in bed, dad was out, and just Ben and I were hanging out playing.   I was laying on the couch and he was standing next to me feeding me dessert out of the play dishes.   He was laughing and talking (in his two word &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sentences&lt;/span&gt;) I just looked at him and thought "wow! where have the last 2 years gone?"  I can't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since he's the third child he's definitely gotten less of my time than the other two did.  We were having a special little moment together and sadly I realized how few of those we have since the older two are always around.  Of course he has the benefit of having siblings to play with so it's not like he's neglected, but we don't get a lot of one on one time together to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him and said "Benji, you are so grown up.  Where is my baby? Where did my baby go?"  He looked at me and said "Baby!" and crawled up on me, snuggled down and gave me a kiss as if he were saying "I'm right here mommy, I'm still your baby"  Oh my, it just melted my heart.  I had to blog this because I never want to forget it, it was such a sweet moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6442277329118138951?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6442277329118138951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6442277329118138951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6442277329118138951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6442277329118138951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-baby.html' title='My Baby'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2464560838686458429</id><published>2009-05-23T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T09:03:33.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Kids Day</title><content type='html'>Emma informed me that this coming up Monday is Happy Kids Day so I have to get up in the night when they are sleeping and surprise them with Happy Kids Day  stuff that says I love you and Happy Kids Day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Oh, who told you about Happy Kids Day?&lt;br /&gt;Emma:  I just made it up but if you don't want to do it Monday while we're sleeping you can do it Thursday while we are at school.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;.  Maybe I'll do it Thursday so I don't have to get up in the middle of the night and not get any sleep, then I'd be grouchy and I wouldn't have very happy kids.&lt;br /&gt;Emma:  Good Idea.  Then Thursday while we are at school make us crafts and fun things that say Happy Kids Day and I Love you and then surprise us.&lt;br /&gt;Mom: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Emma: (runs down the hallway towards the bedrooms)  Jake - she said she'll do it! she said she'll do it! Yeah! (and the hug and celebrate the upcoming Happy Kids Day celebration). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess with Happy Mother's Day and Happy Father's Day she was feeling kind of left out that there wasn't a holiday to celebrate kids!  I bet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Halmark&lt;/span&gt; would love to hire her - one more holiday to sell lots of cards and presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if anyone wants to celebrate Happy Kids Day with us - Thursday is the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2464560838686458429?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2464560838686458429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2464560838686458429' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2464560838686458429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2464560838686458429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-kids-day.html' title='Happy Kids Day'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1378138018512739158</id><published>2009-05-21T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T20:01:14.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Slice of Heaven in Sin City</title><content type='html'>Got to sneak away to the &lt;a href="http://www.ritzcarlton.com/en/Properties/LakeLasVegas/Default.htm"&gt;Ritz Carlton at Lake Las Vegas&lt;/a&gt; for a few days thanks to two sets of generous grandparents (aka newly certified taxi drivers), my husband's fine choice of a conference presentation location, and a free airline ticket (read: my only expense all weekend was my food - if there is anything better than a getaway, it's an almost free one!) Here is a photo essay of my day on Tuesday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8am: Sleeping. Duh.  Shawn is working on a lounge chair on our porch overlooking the Florentine gardens.  If you HAVE to be working, it's better than the office!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYPGit7kbI/AAAAAAAAAyU/gCB6N0ZzlFQ/s1600-h/IMG_3825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338471013367386546" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYPGit7kbI/AAAAAAAAAyU/gCB6N0ZzlFQ/s320/IMG_3825.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9am: Room Service.  Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYPGeMx4OI/AAAAAAAAAyM/JjwKbN2TkHw/s1600-h/IMG_3826.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338471012154597602" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYPGeMx4OI/AAAAAAAAAyM/JjwKbN2TkHw/s320/IMG_3826.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10am: Gym.  Sorry, no self-portraits of me on the bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11am-2pm: Poolside.  After being escorted to my chair by the lifeguard, I read my book all afternoon, sipping on mango smoothie samples and frozen cherries.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOw4SI0EI/AAAAAAAAAx8/SBV86aNNrU4/s1600-h/IMG_3834.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338470641199272002" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOw4SI0EI/AAAAAAAAAx8/SBV86aNNrU4/s320/IMG_3834.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2pm: Relaxing at the spa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOw0SmsyI/AAAAAAAAAyE/GVU0wbnDQ4A/s1600-h/IMG_3832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338470640127488802" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOw0SmsyI/AAAAAAAAAyE/GVU0wbnDQ4A/s320/IMG_3832.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3pm: Biking with Shawn on his short break from the conference.  Darn, I left my camera in the locker room, spectacular views of the lake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4pm: Poolside again.  Two sets of feet are better than one.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOwniszbI/AAAAAAAAAx0/NFO-KYUYiuM/s1600-h/IMG_3839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338470636705336754" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOwniszbI/AAAAAAAAAx0/NFO-KYUYiuM/s320/IMG_3839.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5pm: Checking out the waterfalls, white sand beach and views of the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOwdRyoeI/AAAAAAAAAxs/lMO9vzhVChc/s1600-h/IMG_3841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338470633950061026" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOwdRyoeI/AAAAAAAAAxs/lMO9vzhVChc/s320/IMG_3841.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOwV6FvMI/AAAAAAAAAxk/agn6ajhQt3Q/s1600-h/IMG_3843.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338470631971601602" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYOwV6FvMI/AAAAAAAAAxk/agn6ajhQt3Q/s320/IMG_3843.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was truly a little slice of heaven for a mom of 3 rambunctious puppies and flying "through" San Francisco gave me the opportunity to think about the first few months of our marriage we spent there nine years ago.  We had so much fun exploring the city together, but boy were we dumb kids.  Was the dumbest thing we did 1) Drive into the city on the Saturday morning before starting new jobs on Monday without a place to live?  We actually spent 5 minutes on a PAY PHONE until we realized we had stopped right in the heart of the castro district! 2) Spend the entire summer without a phone in our apartment?  It was outrageously expensive and we spent Sundays trying to have conversations with our parents over the wind on the apartment complex pay phone! or 3) Actually sit on our $1 couch we bought at the Haight-Ashbury goodwill store without a cover?  We vacuumed and Febreezed, but oooooohhh it makes me sick to think of the germies!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I forced Shawn into a little relaxation since he usually doesn't make time to enjoy the luxuries during his business trips and I definitely filled my relaxation cup all the way to the top!  While I am happy to never see the strip again, I would definitely repeat this trip!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS. I forgot to mention that we grabbed some In-N-Out both on our way "in" to town and "out".  While I was really looking forward to it, and the burger definitely did not dissapoint, Shawn and I feel that 5 Guys definitely takes the prize when it comes to burgers AND fries! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1378138018512739158?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1378138018512739158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1378138018512739158' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1378138018512739158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1378138018512739158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/little-slice-of-heaven-in-sin-city.html' title='A Little Slice of Heaven in Sin City'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ShYPGit7kbI/AAAAAAAAAyU/gCB6N0ZzlFQ/s72-c/IMG_3825.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6572323753982565910</id><published>2009-05-19T06:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T07:46:13.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little More Sugar Baby</title><content type='html'>Before I had kids, I truly thought I would be a Mary Poppins style mom - feeding my kids spoonfuls of sugar and taking them on wild field trips where barbershop quartets &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;serenade&lt;/span&gt; us while dancing with the singing penguins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, many days I roll into bed at night feeling like I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cruella&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;DaVille&lt;/span&gt; and 101 puppies have run circles around me all day long. Somewhere along the line reality set in and I found out that Mary Poppins had a few things I don't have - makeup artists, food service people, and probably a trailer on the set where she could go and rest when she got tired. And at the end of the day - she walked away from it all to rest and recuperate for the next shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have a new reality. One that some days I love and some days I don't. One thing I like about being a modern mom is it seems that over the past several decades moms have realized it's okay to say "this is hard, some days this really stinks!". It's okay to express your feelings about motherhood without people thinking your a bad mom because you don't love every minute of the grind. Don't get me wrong - I can honestly say there is nothing in the world I would rather be doing than staying at home with my kids. There is no career I pine away for or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exotic&lt;/span&gt; location I feel I've been robbed of seeing. I thank God every night for these 3 precious souls that have been sent my way. But somewhere in the craziness of it all I'm trying to find balance. Balance between time with the kids/time cleaning the house, balance between being too strict or not strict enough, balance between the "mom" me and the "me" me - that person before kids who actually had a brain and could form two intellectual sentances in the same breath. I'm trying to find the balanced person between Mary Poppins and Cruella DaVille whom I long to be and strive to create for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of motherhood is giving up who you were and what your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;expectations&lt;/span&gt; were and deal with reality. And then...make sure you find that old self, the person you were before you had kids, and weave that in to the new you, the new reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in the past 5 years of giving birth three times, battling breastfeeding, and learning with a new definition of sleep I've lost a little part of my old self. Most days I struggle with my brain to find words that used to come so freely. I think some people refer to it as "mommy brain". However, it's not necessarily a bad thing to lose that old person. Sure she had less wrinkles and a quicker wit, but the new me can handle emergency blow outs in a flash (and I' m not talking about tires here), and can McGyver popsicles sticks and kite string into a quality toy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each child brings new challenges and it always throws me for a loop, then it takes me awhile to catch my breath and figure out what I"m doing. Just when I think I have things figured out - something changes and I have to start all over again. Sometimes I get into a rut though. Things throw me for a loop and I'm not ready. It seems when that happens I kick into survival mode. Just doing the basics making sure we are all surviving - food, shelter, clothes but not a lot of fluff and fun. Mary Poppins is out the window with her carpet bag and all. I've just realized that since having the third baby I've been in that survivial mode most of the time. Just trying to manange everything and stay afloat. Having a newborn is definitely survival mode and with each child that period seems to extend longer and longer. Now that he's nearing two things are seeming to get easier (ie - I mostly get a good nights sleep which really seems to make a difference in life) and I think it's time to add a little bit more sugar to the mix. More fun around our house. More happiness, less stress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can completely see how my kids reactions and behavior reflect my own moods and feelings. Not to say everything they do or don't do is a result of their mother. All people, including our children have a little something called "free agency" (much to their mother's dismay) and can choose for themselves how they feel and act. If one of my kids wakes up in a grumpy mood because he/she did not get enough sleep, even the best mom in the world wouldn't be able to change that. However, even when I have grumpy kids, if I can stay cool, calm and collected I find that things go much smoother in my household and it's easier to snap them out of it. The problem is...I don't always stay cool, calm and collected. I'm striving though. It's my new goal. I want it to be my new reality. A world in which I never lose my cool, never raise my voice unless there is iminent danger, and never feel like selling my kids on Craigslist. I want to bring in a little more of Mary Poppins and shed Cruella like a bad hair day. Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6572323753982565910?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6572323753982565910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6572323753982565910' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6572323753982565910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6572323753982565910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/before-i-had-kids-i-truly-thought-i.html' title='A Little More Sugar Baby'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3242890847744615746</id><published>2009-05-17T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T20:17:19.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's that time of year again...</title><content type='html'>Looking for renters. If I haven't already sent you an email or a FB link or you saw it on Craigslist, I'm making sure you at least think for a sec if you know someone who might want to rent a great townhouse in the Kingstowne area of NOVA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.postlets.com/rts/2205442"&gt;http://www.postlets.com/rts/2205442&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3242890847744615746?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3242890847744615746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3242890847744615746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3242890847744615746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3242890847744615746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-that-time-of-year-again.html' title='It&apos;s that time of year again...'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5723804072407474245</id><published>2009-05-15T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T21:18:31.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>False Alarm</title><content type='html'>I almost walked back in the house to grab my cell phone on the way out the door today.  We were just headed over to Jacob's Friday playgroup to drop him off and I'd be back in 15 minutes so I thought "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nevermind&lt;/span&gt;...I'm not going to need it" as I locked the door behind me and headed for the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled up to the house 15 minutes later as 2 police officers were swiftly scaling my driveway with their weapons loaded and aimed at my house.   Honking my horn at them to let them know I was behind them probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but as I pulled up in the driveway they wouldn't turn around to look at me and I didn't want to them to turn and shot.  It was just a little tap on the horn to say "hey...I'm right here and this is my house".  They both gave me extremely dirty looks and as I explained to them I lived here they told me to stay in the car while the checked out my premises.  I think I kind of blew the element of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;surprise they were trying to conduct&lt;/span&gt; with my little tap on the horn.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, when we bought this house  "out in the country" ( that's a big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;overstatement&lt;/span&gt; but compared to where we used to live in a downtown area...this is as "country" as Orange County gets.) I wasn't used to being able to look out the window and just see nothingness.  I wasn't used to not sharing a wall with another family or listening to my neighbors &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;toilet&lt;/span&gt; flush from my bathroom.  We've always lived in an apartment or condo and living in a free standing house was a bit, well, scary.  It was really weird having to actually walk down a driveway and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;across&lt;/span&gt; the street to reach the neighbor's house.  So...I insisted that we put in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;burglar&lt;/span&gt; alarm for all those late nights during tax season when I'm all alone with black staring back at me from the windows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, I hardly ever use the dumb alarm because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I do I set it off, not remembering that it's on!  It doesn't make any sound at the house when it goes off...just at the alarm company.  So until they call me and say "your alarm is going off is everything all right at your house and what's your password - I don't even remember that it's on in the morning when we wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, of course I set the alarm last night because Dave was out of town,  and of course I forgot to turn it off as we rushed out the door this morning, and of course I didn't listen to that little voice that said grab your cell phone as I rushed out the door.  If I had my phone I would have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; the call from the alarm company and wouldn't have to return to 2 police officers with loaded guns walking up to my front door.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they "secured the perimeter" they let me go back in the house after taking my name and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;birth date&lt;/span&gt;, and giving me a lecture about not honking next time in case someone is inside my house and I let the "perpetrator" in on the secret that the police are approaching.  I didn't tell them I had just left and tripped the alarm myself.  Something about the guns they were holding made me really nervous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dang!  There goes my one freebie false alarm.  Next time the alarm company &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;whacks&lt;/span&gt; me with a big fine.  I better start leaving big notes for myself reminding me that the alarm is on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5723804072407474245?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5723804072407474245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5723804072407474245' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5723804072407474245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5723804072407474245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/false-alarm.html' title='False Alarm'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3012648904743885353</id><published>2009-05-12T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T19:27:09.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Almost a Decade</title><content type='html'>Even though I've caught my husband wistfully staring out the window at the house full of college kids across the street a few times during our beach trip, mumbling something about sleeping in and not having to change dirty diapers, I am still pretty sure he loves the little family we've created over the last nine years.  We celebrated our anniversary today, amidst chaos and fun with our friends like we have the last four years.  I received a funny card from Shawn, where he wrote that his only mistake was not marrying me sooner.  That would have been illegal, so I'm glad it all worked out how it did.  Looking forward to many more adventures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3012648904743885353?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3012648904743885353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3012648904743885353' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3012648904743885353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3012648904743885353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/almost-decade.html' title='Almost a Decade'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1313108761755051662</id><published>2009-05-12T14:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T14:55:00.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Morning</title><content type='html'>The toilet flooded (not just overflowed...FLOODED!)  Why is it the only bathroom we have with wood floors is the one that keeps flooding? And to add to the grossness of it all...I was sitting on the toilet when it began to overflow.  Luckily it was just water and t.p. in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to make chocolate dipped strawberries and 2 boquets of flowers from the garden for teacher appreciation week.  I burnt the white chocolate as I was clipping roses outside.  Sometimes I have to learn not to multitask. Sorry teachers...only dark choco on your strawberries this time.  The flowers came out quite nice though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We forgot Jacob was "Star of the week" and we had to bring a poster with pictures and stickers of things he liked on it by 9:00am.  Jacob woke up at 8:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to school with Jacob's Star of the week poster but left his lunchbox at home.  I had to run home and get it quickly so I could finish the flowers, strawberries and get Emma to school on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben decided to get into my makeup, spill my BareEssentials everywhere and paint himself red with fingernail polish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm out of milk - no cereal for breakfast today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All by 10:00 am...How was your morning?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1313108761755051662?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1313108761755051662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1313108761755051662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1313108761755051662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1313108761755051662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/good-morning.html' title='Good Morning'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-8278824703497607458</id><published>2009-05-11T14:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T17:59:50.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sayings as of Late</title><content type='html'>We were at the local "farm" watching the ducks in their yard.  Two ducks jumped in the water and  one of the ducks jumped on top of the other and they  starting "wrestling".  At first I thought it was going to be one of those moments I would have to explain nature at its finest to my kids.   Then it looked as if they ducks were really just playing as they jumped on each other, grabbed each others necks, and dove under the water.  Jacob said"  now that's what I call duck, duck, goose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week at church the kids Sunday School lesson was on The Word of Wisdom.  (for our non mormon readers that is the health code Mormons live by).   At dinner that night the kids were questioning me on what alcohol is and what it does to us.  I told them it makes us not be able to  think straight.  "oh..." Emma said.  "So if somebody had alcohol then they would think things like 2+1=0?"  And she started laughing and laughing at the thought of someone actually thinking 2+1=0.  Jacob was cracking up to and they thought it was the funniest thing ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben is just full of words lately and is having a great time learning to communicate for what he wants.  He is a total copycat and since he has 2 older sibling to copy...some of his finest moments are: Dancing around in his bedroom singing "poopy face, poopy face" (even though he doesn't know what that means).  Saying "ewww, gwoss" (gross) when I put his dinner down in front of him, and of course the favorite word of the day is no, No, NO!  He is such a cute little guy he's hard to resist.  Especially when he says "sowry" (sorry) or "I wuv you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are having a huge, HUGE problem lately with arguing and bickering.  Does anyone have any suggestions?  Please...PLEASE?  I'm dying.  I'm about ready to sell my eldest two offspring, for really, really cheap...free even.  Right now I can't even contemplate a summer ahead full of constant fighting so I need some help and fast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-8278824703497607458?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/8278824703497607458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=8278824703497607458' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8278824703497607458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8278824703497607458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/sayings-as-of-late.html' title='Sayings as of Late'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-9082892101120318925</id><published>2009-05-11T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T12:38:55.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Relaxing in the Hammock Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;The hammock is not always a relaxing place to be. But fun nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b93fbd0ebce56037" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db93fbd0ebce56037%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331694980%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2AAA4D88438DFB06F882479074462AF854189E39.41390D8F0A0758E5E51C1966BAC86D97D35BC902%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db93fbd0ebce56037%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Di4gagjsJz1KQfkiwRpnPS8hyrf0&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db93fbd0ebce56037%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331694980%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2AAA4D88438DFB06F882479074462AF854189E39.41390D8F0A0758E5E51C1966BAC86D97D35BC902%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db93fbd0ebce56037%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Di4gagjsJz1KQfkiwRpnPS8hyrf0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;No, this is not the start of a community bike race. This is the crew, minus me-the-photographer, heading out for a bike ride. That would be six adults, four kids on bikes, and six children in three trailers. After the most amazing Thai feast ever, we ventured out on a ride as the sun was setting over the sound and came home to rest our sore bums while eating sticky rice with mango. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7nP4v-EI/AAAAAAAAAw0/lptGEAPoaeg/s1600-h/IMG_3731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334649672830023746" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7nP4v-EI/AAAAAAAAAw0/lptGEAPoaeg/s320/IMG_3731.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7ncRoU3I/AAAAAAAAAw8/g2d2wy6swzE/s1600-h/IMG_3732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334649676155605874" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7ncRoU3I/AAAAAAAAAw8/g2d2wy6swzE/s320/IMG_3732.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our Mother's Day celebration extended into Monday as the moms got to spend a few hours at the Sanderling Spa, getting massages, relaxing in the steam room, and giggling over a cup of herbal tea.  This is our fourth year celebrating Mother's Day at the beach and the three dads really know how to make it relaxing and special.  I came home and found Shawn and Gavin asleep downstairs and Ryan and his girl Holly crashed on the couch - the dads do a good job wearing the kids out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7nvTnfJI/AAAAAAAAAxE/AaSdwXCwTI4/s1600-h/IMG_3735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334649681264213138" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7nvTnfJI/AAAAAAAAAxE/AaSdwXCwTI4/s320/IMG_3735.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some rain today but the rest of the week looks sunny!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-9082892101120318925?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b93fbd0ebce56037&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/9082892101120318925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=9082892101120318925' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9082892101120318925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9082892101120318925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/relaxing-in-hammock-part-2.html' title='Relaxing in the Hammock Part 2'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgh7nP4v-EI/AAAAAAAAAw0/lptGEAPoaeg/s72-c/IMG_3731.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-241799041589733648</id><published>2009-05-10T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T13:01:05.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging from a Hammock in OBX</title><content type='html'>Happy Mother's Day to me. After a scrumptious breakfast of crepes with too many delicious toppings to list, I enjoyed a LONG, QUIET nap on a hammock, listening to the waves crash and seagulls squawk on a picture-perfect day in the Outer Banks, NC. Life is definitely good, but you should know me and my kids better by now if you thought we also had a quiet, peaceful drive down here from NOVA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UGH! I am already plotting a car-swap for our trip down here in June with my parents and some extended family because Nick is definitely not riding with me! He is the biggest whiner I know. But why are two out of your three children mostly naked in the photo below, you might ask? We stopped for some Pierce's famous BBQ in Williamsburg (and note-to-self, I'm not really sure why it's so famous) and Nicholas slid into a huge mud puddle. Of course his bag of clothes were buried so we stripped him down and he spent the second half of the ride in his undies. But the most embarrassing moment definitely goes to Gavin. See, he's been having some major blowouts thanks to his antibiotics (if you haven't heard, we spent all of last week down with strep). So the poor guy had one in the Sonic parking lot and it was just a disaster. I'm talking shoulders to heels, stuck on like glue. Shawn hit our call button and asked for a cup of ice, but after only a few minutes of pouring ice-cold water all over our child in the grass, we realized that 1) we were torturing him and 2) it was not effective. I have been in a lot of embarrassing situations with my kids, but it was definitely one of my finest, picking up a naked, poo-covered kid and haul him past the drive-thru line into the bathroom for an impromptu bath in the sink. Disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we finally made it in time to check out the beach before dark and then swim in the pool until way past bedtime. Enter hammock-snuggling and blogging on a picture perfect afternoon. Worth the embarrassment and whining for sure.  Impromptu poo bath at Sonic still debatable.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgcx_3784mI/AAAAAAAAAwk/EwGMrJzmzvs/s1600-h/IMG_3688.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334287257060565602" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgcx_3784mI/AAAAAAAAAwk/EwGMrJzmzvs/s320/IMG_3688.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgcx_uhPZxI/AAAAAAAAAwc/Lmxo1RI3lZo/s1600-h/IMG_3682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334287254532613906" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgcx_uhPZxI/AAAAAAAAAwc/Lmxo1RI3lZo/s320/IMG_3682.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SgcyAfq-qxI/AAAAAAAAAws/6kc3XOaH8b8/s1600-h/IMG_3712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334287267726797586" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SgcyAfq-qxI/AAAAAAAAAws/6kc3XOaH8b8/s320/IMG_3712.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-241799041589733648?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/241799041589733648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=241799041589733648' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/241799041589733648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/241799041589733648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/blogging-from-hammock-in-obx.html' title='Blogging from a Hammock in OBX'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sgcx_3784mI/AAAAAAAAAwk/EwGMrJzmzvs/s72-c/IMG_3688.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3106475169963924223</id><published>2009-05-06T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T22:33:29.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Post</title><content type='html'>Whew, it's been a long time since I've hit that button (the "NEW POST").  Life has a way of getting away from me lately.  I blog all the time in my head, now if I could just download my brain to the computer things would be so much easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing great things with my time though.   My garden boxes are in and growing.  I'm anxiously awaiting my first crop.  I think the tomatoes will be first.  Can I just tell you - the miracle of watching things grow is just amazing!  I love planting seeds and seeing the little plants come up.  Or watching my  bear root roses bloom into beautiful rose bushes.  And best of all seeing the bulbs come up in beautiful purples and yellows.  I have to say it's near close to the miracle of birth watching little seeds and plants turn into God's beautiful creations.  I'm addicted and in a really bad way.My favorite spot to sit right now is here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxTl73EvI/AAAAAAAAAjw/6srQXnVP3xI/s1600-h/IMG_3016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxTl73EvI/AAAAAAAAAjw/6srQXnVP3xI/s320/IMG_3016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332738383942193906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right outside my bedroom door watching my garden grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite flowers in bloom right now are my hydrengeas:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxT6EuSdI/AAAAAAAAAj4/xGh6pWzFtRI/s1600-h/IMG_2959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxT6EuSdI/AAAAAAAAAj4/xGh6pWzFtRI/s320/IMG_2959.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332738389348075986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm loving they way my rose garden is coming in.  These were almost all bare root roses when I bought them which means nothing but a stick and a root. This pic was last week, there are actually a lot more blooms now.  Hopefully soon there will be enough to cover my neighbors ugly fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxT7bQ3_I/AAAAAAAAAkA/1PpOB5ZiLKY/s1600-h/IMG_2952.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxT7bQ3_I/AAAAAAAAAkA/1PpOB5ZiLKY/s320/IMG_2952.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332738389711052786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've had fun with friends and family visiting as we always do.  Here is the only picture I got at the beach on our earth day celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGyzFORX_I/AAAAAAAAAkQ/stC8rRWPX5k/s1600-h/IMG_2950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGyzFORX_I/AAAAAAAAAkQ/stC8rRWPX5k/s320/IMG_2950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332740024428486642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3106475169963924223?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3106475169963924223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3106475169963924223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3106475169963924223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3106475169963924223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-post.html' title='New Post'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SgGxTl73EvI/AAAAAAAAAjw/6srQXnVP3xI/s72-c/IMG_3016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7666667039701567876</id><published>2009-04-30T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T06:59:41.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DWTS Fort</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite traditions lately has been watching Monday night's DWTS with my older boys while Shawn is teaching on Tuesdays. Nick is mostly just excited to stay up past bedtime, but Ryan is just the biggest fan, commenting on all of the costumes, cheering for "Jueyanne", and giggling and asking for translations during Bruno's commentary. I didn't have a chance to watch the results show, so yesterday afternoon we built a TV fort, popped some popcorn, and snuggled together for oh, twenty minutes? or so until the moment was ruined by a destroyed fort, unwilling popcorn sharers, and a few kicks to someone's face. But for a few minutes, I had a kid in each arm and one on my lap and felt like the happiest mom in the world! &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sfmup6p9O4I/AAAAAAAAAwU/ZPfhMiHrkQw/s1600-h/IMG_3670.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330483669112798082" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sfmup6p9O4I/AAAAAAAAAwU/ZPfhMiHrkQw/s320/IMG_3670.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7666667039701567876?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7666667039701567876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7666667039701567876' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7666667039701567876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7666667039701567876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-fort.html' title='DWTS Fort'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sfmup6p9O4I/AAAAAAAAAwU/ZPfhMiHrkQw/s72-c/IMG_3670.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6666103319045504789</id><published>2009-04-22T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:09:58.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rookie Mistake #2</title><content type='html'>Remember when I almost cut my fingertip off with the hedge trimmer last &lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/10/middle-finger-mishap.html"&gt;fall&lt;/a&gt;?  Well, I made rookie mistake #2, as my dad called it, and sliced my extension cord today after I dragged out the trimmer for spring clean-up.  So once again I have only half the landscaping done and the trimmer and I are not on speaking terms right now.  At least the part I got done looks nice!  And I already had a trip planned to Home Depot tomorrow, so I'll go ahead and add "new extension cord" to my list...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was bagging up the trimmings, a neighbor walked by, and watching me attempt to clean up with one child hanging on my back and two others squabbling, says (nicely) "You know you can hire someone to do that for you!"  (the yard or the kids, right?)  "Yes," I reply, "But then I have to pay them".  For whatever reason, we are one of the few people I have noticed doing our own yard work in the neighborhood, but 1) lawn service is not in the budget and 2) I am grooming three future yard boys.  I have yet to make my kids work around the inside of the house nearly as much as I should, but you better believe they have begun to learn to work outside (minus Gavin, whose work involves throwing mulch everwhere).  Our yard might not look perfect, but we have the satisfaction of knowing we worked hard on something together as a family.  And you can't "buy" that, lady!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6666103319045504789?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6666103319045504789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6666103319045504789' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6666103319045504789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6666103319045504789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/rookie-mistake-2.html' title='Rookie Mistake #2'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4404712777020229649</id><published>2009-04-21T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T22:54:24.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from the dead...literally</title><content type='html'>My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; died last week and just got up and running today.   The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; is one of those things  you don't realize how much you use it until you don't have it around.  I couldn't look up phone numbers, park hours for Disneyland this week, and what the weather was going to be (record heat here people!  103 degrees in the middle of April)  It was frustrating but at the same time I actually went 5 days without knowing a thing on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; and it didn't even bother me. Imagine that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great Easter up in Sacramento- photo blog soon to come.   I felt better buying underwear in Target for the Easter baskets when the lady in front of me in line  said "oh good, I'm glad I'm not the only one that buys underwear for my kids Easter baskets".  She had Dora, I had Transformers.  I figure why not turn needs into presents.  We're a little spoiled these days always getting our wants and forgetting how blessed we are to always have our needs met.  I think the kids were as excited to get their new underwear as they were to eat their chocolate bunnies - almost...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been having a great week with my-best-friend- Jenni-from-Utah (inside joke)  visiting with her family.  We did Disney with them yesterday (they are doing 3 days) and tomorrow we're doing the beach.   Also residing at Hotel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Erard&lt;/span&gt; this week is my resident handyman/yard man -  dad.   He's a wealth of information when it comes to most things outdoors so he's helped me plant my garden this week - showing me how to make proper rows and mounds, what vegetables to plant next to what etc.  Photos of garden to come soon as well.  Of course I'm giving him a day off tomorrow to play golf with my husband.   Oh yeah - I forgot to mention the biggest news of April:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;TAX SEASON IS OVER!  HOORAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We finally have a husband/daddy around again and it's already wonderful.  Although he says he didn't miss the bossing around (me? bossy?  I don't know what he's talking about?) he's glad to be home too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to bed now.  Got nothing done today because I was too buys checking up on 5 days of email and blogs.  Lots to do tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4404712777020229649?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4404712777020229649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4404712777020229649' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4404712777020229649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4404712777020229649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/back-from-deadliterally.html' title='Back from the dead...literally'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5905946353379857567</id><published>2009-04-19T19:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T19:55:27.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Ball Photos</title><content type='html'>What did I tell you about the amazing Blueclaw moms? Sure enough I received an album of photos from the first game shortly after deleting all of my own photos on accident! Thank you Lea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unoffical 11th member of the team/team mascot in a baseball shirt and football pants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjUmtw6tI/AAAAAAAAAvs/WrHiav7Zocc/s1600-h/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326600927425129170" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjUmtw6tI/AAAAAAAAAvs/WrHiav7Zocc/s320/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2145.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reciting the Little League pledge before the game - once again, notice the mascot in the middle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjU47HztI/AAAAAAAAAv0/g5YpdkTe0y4/s1600-h/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326600932312993490" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjU47HztI/AAAAAAAAAv0/g5YpdkTe0y4/s320/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2217.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So serious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjVOR5ovI/AAAAAAAAAwE/eGSy8_1kfK0/s1600-h/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326600938045678322" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjVOR5ovI/AAAAAAAAAwE/eGSy8_1kfK0/s320/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2294.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throwing to first&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjVCLWgpI/AAAAAAAAAv8/dZr3XXz_Pyk/s1600-h/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2264_edited-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326600934796984978" style="WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjVCLWgpI/AAAAAAAAAv8/dZr3XXz_Pyk/s320/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2264_edited-1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Team photo at the end of the first game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjVUFK0PI/AAAAAAAAAwM/5NEbNib8MOc/s1600-h/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2414.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326600939602890994" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjVUFK0PI/AAAAAAAAAwM/5NEbNib8MOc/s320/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2414.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5905946353379857567?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5905946353379857567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5905946353379857567' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5905946353379857567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5905946353379857567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/t-ball-photos.html' title='T-Ball Photos'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SevjUmtw6tI/AAAAAAAAAvs/WrHiav7Zocc/s72-c/T-ball_1st_game_04_18_09_2145.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7647827894258139286</id><published>2009-04-18T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T06:28:37.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Play Ball, Delete Photos</title><content type='html'>Well, thank goodness we have two moms with great cameras and photography skills on the t-ball roster, because I just made myself a T-ball photo folder and then promptly deleted the T-ball photos from the memory card before copying and pasting them into my newly-created folder. Clearly I should not do anything that really matters late at night. But MAN I had some cute pics of Nick's Opening Ceremonies and first T-ball game today and "Assistant Coach Ryan" in his catcher's outfit. Poor Ryan thinks he is on the team since "Coach Shawn" lets him practice with the big kids, and he is counting down until he is 5 and can play!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a great neighborhood team made up of all kindergarten boys with great parents who have been a HUGE support already. See, I was going to skip sports this spring since I will being doing this times 3 for the next 20 years, but I totally sucummbed to peer pressure when the all of the other kindergarten boys signed up. And well, guess who ended up coaching the team - yep, Shawn! And we are not talking about one practice and one Saturday game a week people! The league schedule is insane! I think I once said this is my first and last season of t-ball, but we're all really enjoying it so far, so I think I'll retract that statement. Go Blueclaws!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7647827894258139286?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7647827894258139286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7647827894258139286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7647827894258139286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7647827894258139286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/play-ball-delte-photos.html' title='Play Ball, Delete Photos'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7677223656386933271</id><published>2009-04-18T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T19:40:33.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Parade</title><content type='html'>Whew! Congrats if you actually read the entire previous post. Let's keep this one short and sweet. I already admitted to being a big fat Easter bunny loser. Did I mention that Nick threw up twice at our annual Easter brunch/egg coloring/hunt with friends?  He had to dye eggs alone after he was whisked home from the party.  And I recycled my babyGap bargain seersucker pants for the younger two - as if anyone in this house cares about a new Easter outfit anyway... we hosted both sides of the family for Easter dinner, and the boys provided a lot of entertainment using their new skateboards from grandma in the kitchen - don't think for a second that Gavin was going to be left out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, my random quote of the week from 5 year old Nicholas in the back seat of the car: "Hey mom, you really should check this out, I've got a bunch of hair growing on my legs!" WAH! I frequently ask if I can please freeze him so he'll stay five forever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN88yDs4I/AAAAAAAAAuw/Id6jsKtXnTA/s1600-h/3boysEaster3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326225587566785410" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN88yDs4I/AAAAAAAAAuw/Id6jsKtXnTA/s320/3boysEaster3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN8ajokLI/AAAAAAAAAuo/p8j9DPQPNlA/s1600-h/3boysEaster1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326225578379481266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN8ajokLI/AAAAAAAAAuo/p8j9DPQPNlA/s320/3boysEaster1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN8yUAA_I/AAAAAAAAAu4/gzJcLGnGZAg/s1600-h/FamilyDinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326225584756360178" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN8yUAA_I/AAAAAAAAAu4/gzJcLGnGZAg/s320/FamilyDinner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN9AcV2vI/AAAAAAAAAvA/0V2PGQSC0ew/s1600-h/IMG_3599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326225588549442290" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN9AcV2vI/AAAAAAAAAvA/0V2PGQSC0ew/s320/IMG_3599.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN9TL4TgI/AAAAAAAAAvI/Hbc8tY268kw/s1600-h/IMG_3601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326225593580670466" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN9TL4TgI/AAAAAAAAAvI/Hbc8tY268kw/s320/IMG_3601.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7677223656386933271?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7677223656386933271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7677223656386933271' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7677223656386933271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7677223656386933271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-parade.html' title='Easter Parade'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SeqN88yDs4I/AAAAAAAAAuw/Id6jsKtXnTA/s72-c/3boysEaster3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2479410552781384189</id><published>2009-04-16T19:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T21:26:57.745-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break Recovery</title><content type='html'>I didn't mean to become a blog loser, it just kind of happened. In an attempt to get back into it, I feel like I have to give a brief overview of the last few months, you know, just because. Maybe it will make me feel like I really have been doing something other than checking FB since my husband is trying to find an addiction program for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;February: Adults-only ski trip to Snowbird and Snowbasin, UT. Good snow, great food, best friends. We loved spending lots of time with my college roommate BFF Natalie and VA BFFs the Morgans, where we got to spend Rob's birthday with his personal tour of gorgeous Snowbasin and its long, long runs, with Julie joining us for a delicious lunch at the &lt;a href="http://www.snowbasin.com/winter/needles_dining.asp"&gt;swanky lodge&lt;/a&gt; at the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef1yv1ymsI/AAAAAAAAAsg/sxUX_ktulAk/s1600-h/IMG_3329.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325495336573246146" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef1yv1ymsI/AAAAAAAAAsg/sxUX_ktulAk/s320/IMG_3329.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;March: 2nd Annual Great Wolf Lodge trip with the Morgans. How can you go wrong with the Morgans? Whether it's deep frying a turkey in the backyard or cooking tacos in the microwave of your hotel room since the only restaurant buffet is gross AND pricey, these guys are guaranteed to be fun and don't care how white or flabby we look mid-winter in our swimsuits. At least they've never insulted us to our faces. Now that I've raved about you guys, send me some GWL photos because I forgot my camera!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rest of March we spent at home, slaving away in the garage (painting, building shelves, Craigslisting junk), yard work (compost/reseeding the front yard, planting trees, and still have landscape trimming and re-mulching to go, along with composting/reseeding the back yard), and Shawn demo-ed the U-G-L-Y tile in our basement bathroom so he can retile before our new carpet comes in. The only photos I have don't give you the full-scope of how junky the garage was, but hey, you don't really care anyway, do ya! Now that I think about it, Shawn did leave town to enjoy some spring training ball in FL after speaking at a conference, but since I was only invited if I came without my kids and can you believe it, I don't have a live-in nanny, I didn't go and therefore have no photos to prove that he went either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Garage Before&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef346qSijI/AAAAAAAAAso/_bo5TU4wPfA/s1600-h/IMG_3453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325497641580268082" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef346qSijI/AAAAAAAAAso/_bo5TU4wPfA/s320/IMG_3453.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Garage After&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SegAscx1GXI/AAAAAAAAAug/dxHdylUwDxw/s1600-h/IMG_3471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325507323005049202" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SegAscx1GXI/AAAAAAAAAug/dxHdylUwDxw/s320/IMG_3471.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef45fEdRQI/AAAAAAAAAs4/IFOO7u0RQJg/s1600-h/IMG_3612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325498750865327362" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef45fEdRQI/AAAAAAAAAs4/IFOO7u0RQJg/s320/IMG_3612.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to SPRING BREAK! I quickly dismissed my insane idea of driving to Nashville to visit our cousins for the week when I found out how long the drive would take, so we stayed local. My husband teases me and my obsession with avoiding crowds, but listen, if you were chasing three small people in three different directions by yourself, you'd understand. Speaking of crowds, we did enjoy a lovely morning walking the Tidal Basin to see the cherry blossoms with a million other people. No photos. Nothing like our mid-week walks we've done in the past. Never doing it again. But we did manage to have a really fun spring break and avoided the spring break/tourist crowds, the one exception being the McDonald's line at the Air/Space Museum by Dulles. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Air/Space Museum with friends. What's more fun? Running through the massive hangars with your buddies or checking out the planes? Standing in line for 30 minutes, not able to identify if it is your own child screaming or your friend's two lines over, only to get to the front and find out the credit card function is not working or finding seating for 16? Watching the planes take off and land from the control tower or toting a massively tantruming preschooler out of the museum? You decide. Leigh, I need copies of your pics. See, not only am I a blog loser, I am a camera/memory-capturing loser too. At least we have the stores that go with preserved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tuesday: My first venture to the previously "avoided-like-the-plague" Chuckee Cheese. The weather was not cooperating so much with my outdoor plans, so we took a gamble and I'm not sure which one of my three boys enjoyed it the most. Could have done without another massive tantrum (who's kid is he anyway?) and the 30 minute wait to exchage our tickets for a huge bag of cotton candy, but my kids felt like a trip to CC was equivalent to the Magical World of Disney. I'll go ahead and bug Leigh for photos again here since the timing is appropriate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wednesday: Great idea credit goes to Julie for suggesting Luray Caverns. The drive was gorgeous (complete with my begging a warning off the cop who pulled me over for speeding), and after a chilly picnic, we spent more than an hour "exploring" the caves, which the kids just loved. Hey, guess what! I actually took my camera along on this trip. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef9GAvqfTI/AAAAAAAAAtY/MYefWTgYlbc/s1600-h/IMG_3510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325503364109860146" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef9GAvqfTI/AAAAAAAAAtY/MYefWTgYlbc/s320/IMG_3510.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef9FvnYacI/AAAAAAAAAtI/emDACIvhRlM/s1600-h/IMG_3505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325503359511718338" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef9FvnYacI/AAAAAAAAAtI/emDACIvhRlM/s320/IMG_3505.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef9FSVqrwI/AAAAAAAAAtA/mnWZhh5SN2E/s1600-h/IMG_3509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325503351652790018" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef9FSVqrwI/AAAAAAAAAtA/mnWZhh5SN2E/s320/IMG_3509.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if they needed something else to do, we capped Wednesday off with the most delicious homemade pizza on earth and a movie night at Leigh's mom's home theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef-AeHc8wI/AAAAAAAAAto/5ewDFHK_wR4/s1600-h/IMG_3515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325504368426676994" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef-AeHc8wI/AAAAAAAAAto/5ewDFHK_wR4/s320/IMG_3515.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay people, this is getting tiresome, don't you think? I am definitely saving Easter for another day. But pushing onward...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: We finally lucked out with some picture-perfect weather for Ft. Washington MD, one of my favorite spots. NO ONE is ever there, the fort provides hours of exploring for the boys, tons of grassy space to fly kites and picnic, and hey, if you're tired of the beautiful views of Mt. Vernon and DC, you can walk down to the Potomac River and throw rocks into the water. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef-3X_TQPI/AAAAAAAAAtw/-ckUOcqH4C0/s1600-h/IMG_3521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325505311674679538" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef-3X_TQPI/AAAAAAAAAtw/-ckUOcqH4C0/s320/IMG_3521.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef-3jbo27I/AAAAAAAAAt4/b5TDTNxRQLU/s1600-h/IMG_3530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325505314746325938" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef-3jbo27I/AAAAAAAAAt4/b5TDTNxRQLU/s320/IMG_3530.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what do you do with three exhausted boys and their exhausted mother at the end of an exhausting week? You pick up their father and drive to Baltimore, for a walk around the Inner Harbor, a delicious dinner in Little Italy, a horrible night's sleep at a free hotel, and a morning at the children's museum. They collapse in the car as you speed home to pick up another truckload of compost and do your Easter-dinner shopping at Costco. I am still recovering friends. Had a wee breakdown Sunday morning but all is well. Minus a few cases of the pukes and a case of strep throat, life is back to "normal". Just in time for t-ball and vacation season to begin!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_1meM3RI/AAAAAAAAAuA/WChtkn98-go/s1600-h/IMG_3531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325506380714269970" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_1meM3RI/AAAAAAAAAuA/WChtkn98-go/s320/IMG_3531.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_11qTKMI/AAAAAAAAAuI/a63AsZWRT4U/s1600-h/IMG_3558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325506384791546050" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_11qTKMI/AAAAAAAAAuI/a63AsZWRT4U/s320/IMG_3558.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_2DCtgoI/AAAAAAAAAuY/HMykS0ZkK8s/s1600-h/IMG_3571.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325506388383597186" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_2DCtgoI/AAAAAAAAAuY/HMykS0ZkK8s/s320/IMG_3571.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_2Ag2zJI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/O5xTF_6ZehU/s1600-h/IMG_3570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325506387704728722" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef_2Ag2zJI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/O5xTF_6ZehU/s320/IMG_3570.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THE END. I promise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2479410552781384189?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2479410552781384189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2479410552781384189' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2479410552781384189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2479410552781384189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-break-recovery.html' title='Spring Break Recovery'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/Sef1yv1ymsI/AAAAAAAAAsg/sxUX_ktulAk/s72-c/IMG_3329.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3609153754235252846</id><published>2009-04-01T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T11:31:45.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's a Fool?</title><content type='html'>So...here's my April Fools for the day.  Guess which one is true:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our house is in foreclosure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave is being investigated for tax fraud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma is flunking out of kindergarten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3609153754235252846?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3609153754235252846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3609153754235252846' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3609153754235252846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3609153754235252846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/04/whos-fool.html' title='Who&apos;s a Fool?'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5405616030651292094</id><published>2009-03-30T15:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T15:57:27.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A day in the life of Ben</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEikyCZrI/AAAAAAAAAgE/hG-uE17jURo/s1600-h/IMG_2765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEikyCZrI/AAAAAAAAAgE/hG-uE17jURo/s320/IMG_2765.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319107995681056434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love to get into the pantry and make a mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEigKITOI/AAAAAAAAAf8/OdHdlxZfZH4/s1600-h/IMG_2745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEigKITOI/AAAAAAAAAf8/OdHdlxZfZH4/s320/IMG_2745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319107994439929058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And this is my favorite drawer to empty.  Don't I look cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEic1zSXI/AAAAAAAAAf0/8p6UOsLZCOw/s1600-h/IMG_2743.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEic1zSXI/AAAAAAAAAf0/8p6UOsLZCOw/s320/IMG_2743.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319107993549359474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Toothpaste makes really good hair gel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEiZSjrYI/AAAAAAAAAfs/MsnrfATy4RI/s1600-h/IMG_2732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEiZSjrYI/AAAAAAAAAfs/MsnrfATy4RI/s320/IMG_2732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319107992596229506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I really wanted to taste some peanut butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEiNwQwnI/AAAAAAAAAfk/tUXKSD03Wec/s1600-h/IMG_2731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEiNwQwnI/AAAAAAAAAfk/tUXKSD03Wec/s320/IMG_2731.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319107989499593330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFJtMrohzI/AAAAAAAAAgM/M4nBa96XnUs/s1600-h/IMG_6177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFJtMrohzI/AAAAAAAAAgM/M4nBa96XnUs/s320/IMG_6177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319113675748443954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm very into personal hygeine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFDxWR2B5I/AAAAAAAAAfc/mKVqBwE0wOw/s1600-h/MVI_2739-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFDxWR2B5I/AAAAAAAAAfc/mKVqBwE0wOw/s320/MVI_2739-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319107149974341522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Somtimes I don't get what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="306" height="253" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5ac4351008b6ef32" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5ac4351008b6ef32%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331694980%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E477B595B5FF00B0398D0A458D5846EDBB69B9A.300A6366441CE99A1F7DACA614D46138BA986FD1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5ac4351008b6ef32%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DS_hMU0iR6SEC1Ekc36MhD8N5IM4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="306" height="253" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5ac4351008b6ef32%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331694980%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E477B595B5FF00B0398D0A458D5846EDBB69B9A.300A6366441CE99A1F7DACA614D46138BA986FD1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5ac4351008b6ef32%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DS_hMU0iR6SEC1Ekc36MhD8N5IM4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today couldn't have ended on a better note.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5405616030651292094?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=5ac4351008b6ef32&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5405616030651292094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5405616030651292094' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5405616030651292094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5405616030651292094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/day-in-life-of-ben.html' title='A day in the life of Ben'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SdFEikyCZrI/AAAAAAAAAgE/hG-uE17jURo/s72-c/IMG_2765.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2530395038034726782</id><published>2009-03-29T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T08:11:20.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ole, Ole</title><content type='html'>Tonight I was craving my favorite Mexican chopped salad, but thinking I would probably be the only one to eat it (dad is MIA in tax season) I wasn't very motivated to cook &amp;amp; chop.   We've mostly be eating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ikea&lt;/span&gt; meatballs,  Trader Joe's Pizza, and spaghetti for the past month or so without Dave around.   Then...I came up with a brilliant plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told the kids it was Mexican night.  I had Emma go put on her Mexican skirt and I printed off Mexican flags to use as place mats.  I wrote Ole on our napkins and then I put all the ingredients that I would normally mix together to make the salad on the table in individual little bowls so the kids could put on their own toppings.  They actually tried &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jicama&lt;/span&gt;, bell peppers, green onions, and black beans - all of which I know would have created a big "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ewwwww&lt;/span&gt;" had they been mixed in their salad on any normal dinner night.  I actually couldn't believe how much of everything they ate.  It was one of those nights that I gave myself a brownie point!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's a delicious Mexican chopped salad.  Here is the recipe if you're interested in trying it.  I love it!  I used only Bell Peppers as I didn't have the others on hand.  Honestly you can put whatever you want in it...what makes the salad is the dressing!  Yum Yum.  Also, I found these fun tortilla salad topping chips (the red, blue, and yellow slim ones like you would get at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt;) and the grocery store and they were a big hit!  Ole!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingredients:&lt;br /&gt;Canned corn&lt;br /&gt;Green onions&lt;br /&gt;Red, yellow, orange peppers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;jicama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Beans (drained)&lt;br /&gt;Lettuce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tomatoes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avocado&lt;br /&gt;Tortilla chips&lt;br /&gt;chicken or beef optional&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cook the chicken in Lawry's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;seasoned&lt;/span&gt; black pepper (if you don't have the seasoned just use a little salt and pepper, I've done it both ways).  Chop all ingredients into small pieces.  For dressing mix one cup  of Ranch dressing with 1/2 cup of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;BBQ&lt;/span&gt; sauce.  Mix and done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2530395038034726782?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2530395038034726782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2530395038034726782' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2530395038034726782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2530395038034726782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/ole-ole.html' title='Ole, Ole'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6347981703327118455</id><published>2009-03-25T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T11:30:16.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have a Dream...</title><content type='html'>What better insight into a child's mind that to read their journal! I'm not talking about snooping here, Nick just brought home his kindergarten writing journals from the last few months and I was cracking up reading through them. My faves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Year's Resolution: "I will scratch my dad's back"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to a picture of a boy standing next to a bunch of coins: "I like money"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, for Martin Luther King day, drum roll please....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a dream that I can be home schoold"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT? Where did that come from? I think you picked the wrong mom, buddy! I can't even think of where he got this idea from! We do have some good friends who home school but I didn't know he realized it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Ryan, he's been obsessed with leaving Santa notes taped all over our house lately. The other day during bathtime we had this conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Ryan, who wrote all over your belly with pen?&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: Jesus did it!&lt;br /&gt;Mom: No! Who did it?&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: Santa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me where they get this stuff! All Gavin says is "Ryan", "Thank you" and "Julie" so that doesn't make for very entertaining conversation!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6347981703327118455?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6347981703327118455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6347981703327118455' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6347981703327118455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6347981703327118455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-dream.html' title='I Have a Dream...'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6547196119163273729</id><published>2009-03-19T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T20:32:58.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guest Post?</title><content type='html'>Hey, does anyone remember me? Jenny, am I still allowed to blog here?  I have tons of catching up to do, but I just wanted to remember how I felt tonight as I rocked my "baby" to sleep tonight and instead of rushing down to check something off my dumb "to-do" list, I didn't want to put him down. Because if I put him down, then time would keep moving and my kids are going to get older and I don't know if I can handle it. As exasperating as little children can be (and bonus points for the more spirited variety I seem to produce), I don't want these guys to grow up! I absolutely love each of them so much right in the stage they are at: &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nicholas is 5 - I love that he is independent and smart, but he still seeks my approval and loves to jump in bed with me and cuddle in the morning. I love to listen to him read and see his intricate lego creations and the imaginative play that goes with them. He is self-sufficient in so many things, but he still holds my hand on the way home from the bus stop!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ryan is 3 and I honestly don't know if there is a cuter face on the planet. He is quick to toss out a "sorry Mom!" following any mess or wrong-doing and how can I not forgive those beautiful blue eyes. He is curious and adventure-seeking, always yelling an enthusiastic "whoo-hoo" when he is excited about something. He is a lover, always hugging and kissing, and he has his father's gift for sharing with others without hesitation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gavin is 16 months and relishes the role of "baby" in our house. He does not like to share Mom with his brothers, and I have done everything I can to cherish each phase with him as my last baby. His vocabulary is just starting to develop, but his comprehension and actions amaze me every day. He is always smiling, laughing, and loves to be a part of the big kids' world. He is an expert self-entertainer and is really starting to enjoy reading books.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kind of hate reading blogs where people just talk about how great and perfect their kids are. I think I've done a pretty good job of documenting the realities and challenges of motherhood for me personally. I'm not anywhere close to perfect. And neither are my kids. Not only is it entertaining to go back and read about their antics, but I like to remember that while it can be difficult, being a mom has also brought me pure joy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ScMN8aXehMI/AAAAAAAAArA/uu_drESs1oA/s1600-h/Low7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315107316748420290" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ScMN8aXehMI/AAAAAAAAArA/uu_drESs1oA/s320/Low7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6547196119163273729?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6547196119163273729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6547196119163273729' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6547196119163273729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6547196119163273729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/guest-post.html' title='Guest Post?'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/ScMN8aXehMI/AAAAAAAAArA/uu_drESs1oA/s72-c/Low7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3118328317052233214</id><published>2009-03-18T20:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T20:54:43.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sibling Rivalry - Shadow Style.</title><content type='html'>Emma and Jacob are best friends and worst enemies - depending on the day.  Actually depending on the hour.  They have been driving me bananas lately with their arguing and fighting.  The biggest weapon in their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;arsenal&lt;/span&gt; right now is the copy game.  You know, when you copy whatever the other person says.  They do it to each other all day but when the other person does it back it's not so funny anymore.  So then the tatter telling starts!  Another weapon of mass destruction at our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Jacob brought this game to a whole new level yesterday.  Emma was at school and Jacob was outside helping me plant flowers.  The sun was shinning and Jacob noticed he could see his shadow.  Then he moved, and his shadow moved.  "Hey!" he said.  "MOM!  My shadow is doing what I do!"  Then he flailed his arms and kicked a food.  "Mom! Look at this!  It's copying me!" He moved around a bit more and then "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mooooommm&lt;/span&gt;, my shadow is copying me!" (in that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tatter tale&lt;/span&gt; voice).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so laughing when I explained to him why a shadow copies us.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ohhh&lt;/span&gt; sweet Jacob.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3118328317052233214?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3118328317052233214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3118328317052233214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3118328317052233214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3118328317052233214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/sibling-rivalry-hadow-style.html' title='Sibling Rivalry - Shadow Style.'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3860701608654550061</id><published>2009-03-18T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T20:44:22.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Refining Moments</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I  yell.  Then I feel really bad about it.  I try to remind myself that my kids are just kids and the do kid stuff.   But sometimes...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;grrrrr&lt;/span&gt;, I just lose my patience, yell, and then feel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;extreeeemly&lt;/span&gt; guilty.  I hate yelling.  I never wanted to be a yelling mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma has a doll named Kirsten.  Kirsten has to go everywhere with us.  Sometimes it's very endearing, and sometimes not.  Like this morning.  Emma had to run back into the house to get Kirsten's sweater as we were on the way out the door to school ( It's only 80 degrees here today).  Of course half way to school I asked her if she had her lunch box and folder and her reply was "oops, I left them in the house when I went to get the sweater.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Grrrr&lt;/span&gt;.  I was not happy.  I yelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had things to do, places to go, people to see.  My favorite hardware store had given me a 15% off coupon good today only.  I've been saving up my yard needs until today.  I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;play date&lt;/span&gt; at 11:00 and had my whole morning planned to the minute...drop off Emma, run to hardware store, meet friend for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;play date&lt;/span&gt;.  We already had a late start since Jacob pushed Ben in the mud on the way out the door and I had to change him, and then Emma had to run back in for the sweater and I was already to a boiling point.     I let Emma know that Kirsten would not be riding to school with us anymore.  She was not happy.  I was not happy.  It was not happy in our car.   We got to carpool &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;friend's&lt;/span&gt; house and I was able to beg some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sustenance&lt;/span&gt; in the way of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;fruit&lt;/span&gt; snacks and animal cracker's from carpool friend's mom so Emma wouldn't starve at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I dropped Emma &amp;amp; carpool friend off I headed towards the hardware store.  Then the thoughts started creeping into my brain.  Although I'm a pretty mellow person by nature, my mind is all about the drama - oh yeah,  so dramatic!  All the terrible things that could happen to my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;offspring&lt;/span&gt; while we are apart for 3 hours start creeping into my mind.  Earthquakes, car accidents, and who knows what else and I'm almost in tears.  "What if that is the last time I were to see her?  Would I want her to remember me as the "yelling mom"?  I feel so guilty.  So so guilty.  Then I think of how selfish I was.  The only reason I was so mad is because it interfered with MY schedule.  I'm prone to forget many things...including that life doesn't revolve around MY schedule anymore.   Somehow I thought when I had children that the selfish and pride aspects in my personality would just magically vanish.  The birds would sing, the bees would hum, and I would  be smiling and wearing a crown of daises (lovingly made by my children of course) as I brought them lemonade and cookies.   Instead,  I think I am gradually refined moment by moment as I learn that sombody &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; needs might be more important than my own - like my daughter's self esteem over my need to get to the hardware store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked into the hardware store I realized in all the morning rush I forgot that dang 15% off coupon at home!  In my other purse! (one more good reason why I should only have 1 purse).  As I asked the clerk if I had to have the coupon to get the discount and she looked at me as if I was a moron and replied "yes",  I was glad she didn't yell at me for forgetting my coupon at home and was humbled by what comes around goes around! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I was able to push my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;play date&lt;/span&gt; back by half an hour, went and picked up my coupon AND dropped off Emma's lunchbox and folder to her on my way back to the store.  When I walked in her classroom and she had a huge grin and chirped "mommy!" I was so thankful for children who forgive easily, friends who move &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;play dates&lt;/span&gt; around with great understanding, and a hope that each day I can handle situations with my kids better so their fondest memories aren't ones of me yelling at them or losing my patience easily.  Dang, sometimes this is hard!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3860701608654550061?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3860701608654550061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3860701608654550061' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3860701608654550061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3860701608654550061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/refining-moments.html' title='Refining Moments'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5137223644364279780</id><published>2009-03-12T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T11:05:24.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few of My Favorite Things!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SblLkNzaopI/AAAAAAAAAcM/GxF-9Vvzs1I/s1600-h/IMG_2682.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SblLkNzaopI/AAAAAAAAAcM/GxF-9Vvzs1I/s320/IMG_2682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312360321012900498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family, Food, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Disneyland&lt;/span&gt;, Friends, and more Food!  Can a girl's birthday get any better than that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I took the kids to a scrumptious buffet breakfast at Disneyland for my birthday,  and we had so much fun(except for Ben who cries whenever a character walks out and wipes his head after they touch him like it was the touch of death) that I decided it was going to be my annual birthday tradition.  So yesterday we loaded up the car early and headed off to the "Happiest Place on Earth".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids chow on breakfast food...as do I...so even though it's expensive I think we get our money's worth.  Strawberry topped cinnamon french toast, Mickey Mouse shaped waffles, fluffy scrambled eggs and hash browns topped off with a little ketchup -  all while slapping high fives with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tigger&lt;/span&gt; and playing Peek a Boo with Captain Hook.   Is there any better way to start your morning?   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MMmmmm&lt;/span&gt;, it was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;delish&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During breakfast I got a call from a friend who had seen my husband at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;chiropractor&lt;/span&gt; and told him she and a friend were headed over to Disneyland.  He told her I was there and an hour later instead of 1 mom and 3 kids (me) we were 3 moms and 9 kids (all 5 and under)!  We got some funny looks but had a blast!  I was so glad not to be alone and Emma was glad to get to ride a few roller coasters since there was more than one adult around.  I rode Thunder Mountain and while screaming my guts out was thinking what a great birthday I was having. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we played hard at Disney we got home, got a babysitter,  and then I got a special treat of going out to dinner with my husband!  During tax season no less.  We went to a yummy seafood &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; and I stuffed myself with grilled shrimp, scallops, and lobster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.  I started and ended my day with my favorite things - eating yummy food and being with the people I love.  Today I got my house cleaned and Saturday I have a spa day planned with girlfriends so it's like a week long birthday bash.    Now if someone could just convince Ben to sleep past 5:00 am my world would be complete!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5137223644364279780?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5137223644364279780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5137223644364279780' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5137223644364279780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5137223644364279780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='A Few of My Favorite Things!'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SblLkNzaopI/AAAAAAAAAcM/GxF-9Vvzs1I/s72-c/IMG_2682.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6283041899237271389</id><published>2009-03-04T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T13:20:44.271-08:00</updated><title type='text'>15 minutes in my head</title><content type='html'>After spending the morning out shopping for plants and several different nurseries, in the rain, the  boys and I finally arrived home.  Of course Ben fell asleep in the car for 15 minutes so there goes nap time today.   Anyway,  I've been home about 15 minutes and these are the thoughts I've had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet are so cold!  I hate when it dips below 70 outside...I'll go get some socks from my room. &lt;br /&gt;Oh crap, how did 2 little boys smash two packets of Chick-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fil&lt;/span&gt;-a Polynesian sauce on the floor and dance in it on my quick trip to my bedroom for socks.  And how the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;heck&lt;/span&gt; did it get in Jake's hair? I really don't feel like dealing with a bath right now, Jake...your head is going under the sink.  Did I really leave the breakfast dishes in the sink?  I hate coming home to a messy kitchen. Ouch, that sauce does not feel good in the crack on my thumb...I need a band aid.  Uh-oh, there is only one Hello Kitty Band aid left.  Do I use it knowing that next time Emma needs a band aid she'll throw a fit because only the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spiderman&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;band aids&lt;/span&gt; are left? Is it worth the tantrum?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, I don't want a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Spiderman&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;band aid&lt;/span&gt; on MY thumb.  Sorry Emma.  Whew, that feels better.  How did these toys get all over the floor.  I just cleaned up everything last night and my house is a wreck!  Why is all that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt; still on the armchair.  Isn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt; day Monday?  It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt; and I still haven't put it away.  Are you kidding me?  What's wrong with me.  I can put away the towels and the boys clothes at least.  Oh man, how did the light get burned out in the boys room?  I guess I better replace the light bulb. Oh there's the phone.  Private number.  It must be Sara with the Family Housing Center again.  She so nice.  She's very concerned that I might be in foreclosure so she's sure to call me every day.  I've always wanted to tell her how much I appreciate her concern but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt; recordings CAN'T HEAR ME.  I can attest that the stimulus package has worked.  Since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; mortgage recovery plan has taken effect I get THOUSANDS of calls a day from telemarketers wanting to help me save my house from foreclosure. I'm sure that industry has just hired THOUSANDS of people and the unemployment rate just went down. Guess what Sara - WE ARE NOT IN DANGER OF &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;FORECLOSURE&lt;/span&gt; - so please take my name off &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; list.  BEN!  How did you get that cup of ice and why are you dumping it all over the floor!  You're killing me kid.   Now where is that pair of socks?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6283041899237271389?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6283041899237271389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6283041899237271389' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6283041899237271389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6283041899237271389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/15-minutes-in-my-head.html' title='15 minutes in my head'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2660308261338703364</id><published>2009-03-03T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T23:42:18.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzVFWz4I/AAAAAAAAAbs/nxIyxrjOZqI/s1600-h/IMG_2592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzVFWz4I/AAAAAAAAAbs/nxIyxrjOZqI/s320/IMG_2592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232470084210562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzSgGWBI/AAAAAAAAAbk/yiGPOY5hH1M/s1600-h/IMG_2586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzSgGWBI/AAAAAAAAAbk/yiGPOY5hH1M/s320/IMG_2586.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232469391071250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzNi18aI/AAAAAAAAAbc/CuYsmVfD13A/s1600-h/IMG_2583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzNi18aI/AAAAAAAAAbc/CuYsmVfD13A/s320/IMG_2583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232468060402082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzJSS3PI/AAAAAAAAAbU/-pR9tWy0ffQ/s1600-h/IMG_2590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzJSS3PI/AAAAAAAAAbU/-pR9tWy0ffQ/s320/IMG_2590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232466917252338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other Random photos I found on my camera card:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4ugDEqS_I/AAAAAAAAAbE/_RLAyikhKiY/s1600-h/IMG_2574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4ugDEqS_I/AAAAAAAAAbE/_RLAyikhKiY/s320/IMG_2574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232138831940594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob on his first day of preschool...has there ever been a cuter boy?   He barely said goodbye when I dropped him off.   He took off for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;playdoh&lt;/span&gt; table and has never looked back since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4ugAZ7CiI/AAAAAAAAAa8/ARPcL2fDqz8/s1600-h/IMG_2497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4ugAZ7CiI/AAAAAAAAAa8/ARPcL2fDqz8/s320/IMG_2497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232138115811874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My 3 kids after Emma handing me the camera and insisting I photograph them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4ugKTiZkI/AAAAAAAAAa0/ZO_6YXDhrOc/s1600-h/IMG_2450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4ugKTiZkI/AAAAAAAAAa0/ZO_6YXDhrOc/s320/IMG_2450.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232140773385794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet at the end of my favorite pair of jeans.  I'm not sure this picture was on there but it was obviously taken by me.  Next time I'll make sure I have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pedi&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uf1HIkgI/AAAAAAAAAas/nvxhg_lEdGY/s1600-h/IMG_2443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uf1HIkgI/AAAAAAAAAas/nvxhg_lEdGY/s320/IMG_2443.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232135084216834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;swing set&lt;/span&gt; with cousin Hallie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4unFssmCI/AAAAAAAAAbM/O3vGzeqarTo/s1600-h/IMG_2426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4unFssmCI/AAAAAAAAAbM/O3vGzeqarTo/s320/IMG_2426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232259795818530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The temperature gauge in my car in the middle of January. Bring on the global warming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uf05GPJI/AAAAAAAAAak/iJFxYY869S4/s1600-h/IMG_2434.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uf05GPJI/AAAAAAAAAak/iJFxYY869S4/s320/IMG_2434.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309232135025343634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cutest rock star ever!  This wasn't even a posed picture either.  He walked in the room like this.  His t-shirt says "I wanna rock"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2660308261338703364?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2660308261338703364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2660308261338703364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2660308261338703364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2660308261338703364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/03/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sa4uzVFWz4I/AAAAAAAAAbs/nxIyxrjOZqI/s72-c/IMG_2592.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7345844911937266915</id><published>2009-02-26T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T20:57:28.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Proud Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sadyp67QBUI/AAAAAAAAAY8/mxuIel8ldpo/s1600-h/Greenegg.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sadyp67QBUI/AAAAAAAAAY8/mxuIel8ldpo/s320/Greenegg.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307336750397392194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just had to take a minute and jot down this moment for posterity's sake.  Tonight at reading time Emma read me the whole book of Green Eggs and Ham!  The whole book!   I was so proud of her I was beaming.  She really read it to, word for word.  Lots of books we've read frequently she has memorized and just spouts them off but tonight she was actually reading the words.  If she said something wrong or forgot a preposition she would correct herself and get it right.  I lavished praise on her when she finished and she was so proud of herself as well.  She's been reading lots of smaller books but GE&amp;amp;H is pretty long and I thought she'd get tired half way through but she didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Green Eggs &amp;amp; Ham has a special place in my heart because it's one of my Grandma's favorite books.  She was a High School teacher (is retired now) and I can still remember walking in her class one year and she was reading it to her high school students.  She introduced Dr. Suess to me at a young age and I've always had a soft spot for him in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way to go Emma!  I'm so proud of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7345844911937266915?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7345844911937266915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7345844911937266915' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7345844911937266915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7345844911937266915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-proud-mama.html' title='One Proud Mama'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/Sadyp67QBUI/AAAAAAAAAY8/mxuIel8ldpo/s72-c/Greenegg.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5764390042177904058</id><published>2009-02-26T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T20:40:49.334-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Facebook Ruined My Blog</title><content type='html'>A girl only has so much time a day to spend on the computer.  I'm trying to set a good example for my children by making that time less rather than more.  Then along came Facebook.  Why oh why did I ever join?  Am I as snoopy as everyone else.  Stalking people I knew from ages ago just to see how they turned out.  Combing through pictures of people I knew from yesteryear to see if the pretty ones still are pretty and the old boyfriends are still hot... or not?  It's an addiction I tell you, and one I'm starting to resent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I log on to the computer, instead of going to my blog to update my life I find myself logging on to Facebook and checking out who's updating their profile pic and what everybody's "status" is.  Honestly...I really don't need to know what my x boyfriend from high school is having for dinner!  But somehow I'm intruigued and I keep going back for more.  People from all phases of my life have found me on Facebook - including a classmate from like 2nd grade who I didn't even remember at first.  It's been intriguing to me why people contact me after so many years, why do they even care what I'm doing and what does that say about me that I didn't contact them or sometimes even remember their name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only is it taking away from my blog time but making me censor what I say because I have a link to my blog on my Facebook so I can't really talk about anyone who reads my Facebook in case they read my blog!  I'd love to tell the story of this one xbeu which goes into the category of "what was I thinking?"  but I can't now (he's a friend on Facebook)...Instead I find myself sending emails to so-and-so saying "can you believe this person that contacted me" and did you see so-and-so is on Facebook!  I guess I could remove the link but who knows now who's lurking on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong...I have found some awsome people from the past - like missionary friends who I never thought I would see or hear from again, and it's a great way to keep in touch with friends and family that I see all the time anyway.  But there are sometimes I just think "hmmm? why the heck does this person want to be my friend (cyberly speaking) and do I really want them seeing what's going on in my life?  Past boyfriends that maybe would be better off left up to the unknown...people from high school that didn't like me then so why now?...and then their are people who are friends of friends who I really don't even know asking to be my friend.  Is it like a "friends" race to see who can have the most friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days I feel like maybe I should just close down my account so I can go back to spending time on things more important...but then I think the curiosity would kill me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5764390042177904058?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5764390042177904058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5764390042177904058' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5764390042177904058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5764390042177904058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-facebook-reuined-my-blog.html' title='How Facebook Ruined My Blog'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3317906952830818267</id><published>2009-02-25T20:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T20:28:52.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye, bye</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SaYaL7j9_oI/AAAAAAAAAY0/sXQZ41yNQEk/s1600-h/IMG_2417.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SaYaL7j9_oI/AAAAAAAAAY0/sXQZ41yNQEk/s320/IMG_2417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306958003172146818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad just pulled out of the driveway in his big Ford truck and 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; wheel.  Emma is laying in bed sobbing because she's going to miss him.  That's my drama girl.  I'll miss him too but I'm not quite sobbing.    She asked me the other day if "queens and kings go the bathroom like the rest of us?"  She followed that up with "I'm ready to meet &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Baracko&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bama&lt;/span&gt; now mom"  (she thinks his first name is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Baracko&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're always sad when Po-Po goes home.  While he was here he fixed my leaky &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;toilet&lt;/span&gt; and my dishwasher that was falling out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I opened it.  He also helped me lay some weed block in my planters surrounding the grass in the backyard and amended the soil so it was all nice for planting.    Friday I'm having 1500 lbs of rock &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;delivered&lt;/span&gt; to go there.  Wish me luck!  Too bad Po-Po won't be here anymore...he got out just in time.  Luckily I've recruited my husband.  We'll be doing lots-and-lots-o-hauling this weekend.  Wish me luck.  I'm so lucky and grateful to have a dad that a) knows how to do lots of stuff and b) is willing to teach me how to do it.  He's a great dad.  We'll miss you po-po.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister was here last weekend and we had lots of fun with cousins.  My silly card reader won't work so I'm having technical difficulties getting my pics uploaded.  I have some cute ones from the snow trip.  Dang computers.  I'll post them soon though. Right after I sweep the floor, do the dishes, finish the laundry, finish the yard...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3317906952830818267?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3317906952830818267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3317906952830818267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3317906952830818267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3317906952830818267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/bye-bye.html' title='Bye, bye'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SaYaL7j9_oI/AAAAAAAAAY0/sXQZ41yNQEk/s72-c/IMG_2417.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3189608725596995091</id><published>2009-02-21T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T04:04:43.504-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High Rollers</title><content type='html'>We got dressed up and had a great time at our neighborhood casino party Saturday night.  Most awkward moment definitely goes to talking to a couple about the Mormon religion while my husband was raking it in on the craps table (fake money, people!)  I knew it was nearing the end of a long evening of drinking when I started spotting multiple couples taking self-portraits of themselves kissing.  But it was great to have a night out, and I definitely like being attached to such a smart, good-looking man.  Not to mention that in addition to being quite the high roller (ending the night with over $7000), an economist becomes the most interesting person in a room these days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3189608725596995091?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3189608725596995091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3189608725596995091' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3189608725596995091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3189608725596995091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/high-rollers.html' title='High Rollers'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-268217828558407319</id><published>2009-02-17T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T20:47:49.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Learn Something New Every Day</title><content type='html'>1.  My three-year old would actually have to drink an entire 4oz. bottle of children's tylenol for it to be toxic for a child of his weight, not just the 1/2 bottle he downed after I thought he was asleep last night.  Thanks for a good night's sleep, Paul-in-Rochester-NY with Poison Control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1a. If you have a VOIP phone service, Poison Control cannot accurately direct your phone call to your local office, which is how I got to hang out on the line with Paul-in-Rochester-NY at 12:30am.  He kindly took down my information so that NEXT time, my call will be routed correctly.  I hope I don't get to find out if it works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I discovered tonight that DVR was invented &lt;strong&gt;specifically&lt;/strong&gt; for watching the initial episodes of American Idol.  Painful.  So painful.  I lost track how many times I fast forwarded through contestants just to hear the judges' feedback.  I think it has been a long time since I have watched this early in a season.  I repeat, PAINFUL! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2a.  YES!!  I finally understand why people have been hailing DVR as the greatest technology since the Internet!!!  Even though I don't watch a ton of TV, it is my new best friend.  Better than just having it is that it is &lt;strong&gt;free&lt;/strong&gt;, thanks to the new fancy dancy home media server my husband and brother-in-law hooked a sista up with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go, can't say I didn't learn something new today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-268217828558407319?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/268217828558407319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=268217828558407319' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/268217828558407319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/268217828558407319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-learn-something-new-every-day.html' title='You Learn Something New Every Day'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-8268183914698175296</id><published>2009-02-11T20:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T20:11:37.440-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>I keep forgetting to update ya'all on  a few items that I've been asked...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes we did get the&lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/twas-christmas-eve-eve-and-all-through.html"&gt; plumbing problem fixed. &lt;/a&gt; My handy (not) husband did fix it himself (over the next couple of days) and everything is back to normal (except I can't use a plug in my kitchen sink for some reason and the wall behind the sink in the bathroom is kind of black still, but the smell is mostly gone).  There are no leaks (we keep a bucket under the sink just to be sure) and we didn't have to pay a plumber to unplug the pipes (we only spent 30$ for parts and went 2 days without a kitchen or bathroom sink).  We are getting the hang of this home ownership thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new &lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/738-dollars-and-68-cents.html"&gt;electric bill was 202.00.&lt;/a&gt;  That's a savings of 566.00.  Wow!  Glad I called the Electric Company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured out how to get my &lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-some-things-i-want-to-say.html"&gt;wood floors clean.&lt;/a&gt;  Solution:  Let your 20 month old alone for 5 minutes so he can get a hold of the dish soap and squirt it allllllll around the kitchen floor.  Yes, lots and lots of soap does the trick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-8268183914698175296?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/8268183914698175296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=8268183914698175296' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8268183914698175296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8268183914698175296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-8243460541521854281</id><published>2009-02-08T06:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T06:15:37.799-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Personal Trainer</title><content type='html'>Snuggling in bed with my boys this morning, I'm laying on my side and they start poking at my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick: Hey, why is your tummy so big?&lt;br /&gt;Me: You guys stretched it out, you were such big babies (they really were: 9lbs, 9.6 and 10)&lt;br /&gt;Nick: Oh, so when your tummy is like this, do you think of us?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes I think of you when I look at my fat tummy.  But that's why I've been going to the gym, to make it smaller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I roll to my back, gravity works its miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick: Hey!  It's all flat now!  Maybe when you go to the gym, you should just lay on your back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-8243460541521854281?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/8243460541521854281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=8243460541521854281' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8243460541521854281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8243460541521854281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-personal-trainer.html' title='My Personal Trainer'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4083556927231523591</id><published>2009-02-06T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T12:48:01.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just some things I want to say...</title><content type='html'>I love having a husband who will come home and watch the kids so I can go to the dentist - even when he's super busy at work.  Even with Dave's crazy work schedule this time of year he's always makes a concerted effort to make sure I still have somewhat of a life even when he's not around.  (Tax season stinks when you're an accountant).  Not that going to the dentist is considered "having a life" but it's so nice being able to go to an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt; without dragging kids along.   Not that I'd take kids to my dentist &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;appt&lt;/span&gt;.  I just wouldn't go.  It would be a great excuse to not have to go.  BTW, have I ever mentioned how much I hate going to the dentist?  I really, really dislike it.  I just went for a cleaning yesterday and today my teeth feel wonderful!  But I always get a pit in the bottom of my stomach when I'm driving there.  I usually try to get out of it if I can.  I have a little canker sore in my mouth so I called them yesterday morning to see if maybe I should reschedule.  Unfortunately they didn't think it was any big deal and would "work around it".  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Drats&lt;/span&gt;...I thought I'd get out of it.  They did give me a nice little patch that goes over the sore,  and its tons better so I guess I can be thankful for that.  I still remember in High School when my mom came to pick me up at a friends house to go to the dentist.  I hid out in her bedroom and made her tell my mom I wasn't there!  My mom drove away super mad and now that I'm a mom and have to drag kids around I feel totally bad about that!  Sorry mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjamin...oh Benjamin. *sigh, sigh*.  I've &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;alway&lt;/span&gt; considered myself lucky that I didn't have kids that got into everything like some kids do... or draw on the walls... or play in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;toliet&lt;/span&gt;...or smoother themselves with makeup and lotion.  I was just considering myself lucky a little too early because along came Ben.  He gets into everything!  Proof:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYydEq8DF3I/AAAAAAAAASI/RsE5nKNknnA/s1600-h/IMG_6312.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYydEq8DF3I/AAAAAAAAASI/RsE5nKNknnA/s320/IMG_6312.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299783565079418738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYydNgMnueI/AAAAAAAAASQ/v0UmN7Gv6nQ/s1600-h/IMG_6313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYydNgMnueI/AAAAAAAAASQ/v0UmN7Gv6nQ/s320/IMG_6313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299783716814961122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he's not getting into makeup and stuff he's playing with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;toilet&lt;/span&gt; brush, or playing in the trash can, or finding Emma's markers and drawing on furniture.  I've never had safety locks on my cabinets but I'm seriously considering it.  Right now I just keep the bathroom door locked all day and make the kids use the guest bathroom that has nothing in it.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, my bathroom has french doors with no lock (I know...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt;, but I didn't put them in) so it's a little harder keeping him out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other morning while laying bed, Jacob told me he could only snuggle with me until he was 10 because then he would be an adult and couldn't snuggle with me anymore.  I was sad about this until later that day he told me when he was 10 he would also have to move out (you know...since he would be an adult and all) but not to worry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; he was building his house right next door.  Or just buying one of the neighbors when they moved out.  I was still sad about the snuggling part but happy he would be right next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I signed Jacob up for preschool starting on Tuesday and we are both very happy about it.  He is a great kid but has been a little bored lately.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Boredom&lt;/span&gt; in children only equates to one thing: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Boredom&lt;/span&gt; = Naughty.  It's just two days a week and he is so excited about it I kind of feel bad for not doing it sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma has really been enjoying Kindergarten.  She got an award last week for her reading skills.  It's so fun to sit for reading time at night and she can actually read pages of the book.  I love it.  I've always loved reading and wanted to instill a love for reading to my kids.  I started by taking them to the library when they were younger,  but I've stopped that habit since the late fees I've accrued could buy us enough books to furnish our own library.  I buy lots of books at garage sales and always support the book fairs at school so we have quite a good collection.  Emma thinks she needs to hoard them all in her bedroom and stacks them so high they topple over.  I've convinced her that our "library" in the toy area is like a real library and she can check out a certain number of books to keep in her room.  If she wants to take more to her room she has to return the ones she already has to check out different ones.  It's worked pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone have any good ideas to keep wood floors shiny?  My goodness they are hard to keep clean.  Especially around the dinner table.  Annie - you used to have this problem.  What did you use?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4083556927231523591?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4083556927231523591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4083556927231523591' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4083556927231523591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4083556927231523591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-some-things-i-want-to-say.html' title='Just some things I want to say...'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYydEq8DF3I/AAAAAAAAASI/RsE5nKNknnA/s72-c/IMG_6312.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7650151700518580574</id><published>2009-02-03T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:52:13.072-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Heart Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYkQzpCMDzI/AAAAAAAAARo/F2ydSQAyTi4/s1600-h/valentine-heart-candy-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYkQzpCMDzI/AAAAAAAAARo/F2ydSQAyTi4/s320/valentine-heart-candy-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298784915952504626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love an extra day to tell people how much I love them.  I tell my family everyday but I like the thought of celebrating love.  In the past, I always made handmade cards and mailed them out with candy and such.  Since my craft stuff is still all packed up in boxes out in the guest house closet - I don't see that happening this year.  It makes me a little sad but there is always next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always hear people talk about how commercialized holidays have become.  My thought is that the STORES  have commercialized the holidays, but that doesn't mean WE have to commercialize them.   Holidays are fun, memory building times to spend with family and it can simple and cheap.  I love to celebrate holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a fun link of &lt;a href="http://familyfun.go.com/arts-and-crafts/season/specialfeature/valentines_gifts_ms/"&gt;crafts/activities&lt;/a&gt; to do for Valentines day.  Last year, I made heart shaped chicken nuggets, heart shaped jello, and pink mashed potatoes.  I don't think anyone got as big a kick out of it as I did but that's okay.  I like starting traditions while my kids are young, even though they don't appreciate it or totally understand it.  That way, by the time the are old enough to get it - I'm already in the habit and haven't passed up an opportunity.  They seem to grow so fast that sometimes I find myself wishing I would have done things differently and realizing it's to late.  Hindsight is 20/20 right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Heart Day to everyone and I LOVE YOU!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7650151700518580574?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7650151700518580574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7650151700518580574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7650151700518580574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7650151700518580574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-heart-valentines-day.html' title='I Heart Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SYkQzpCMDzI/AAAAAAAAARo/F2ydSQAyTi4/s72-c/valentine-heart-candy-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3617343929373801554</id><published>2009-01-28T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T20:04:38.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>738 dollars and 68 cents</title><content type='html'>When we first bought this house I heard from several people how much it would cost to run the house - electricity, gas, water, etc. with a pool and everything.  I was really scared out of my pants about what our bills would be.  I have to say though, I have been pleasantly surprised.  The bills have been much lower than I anticipated and I have felt a big sigh of relief the past few months...until yesterday when I opened my electricity bill.  The bill was $738.68 dollars!!  My heart dropped to the floor when I saw the bill.  I started envisioning a month of eating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ramen&lt;/span&gt; Noodles and having to delve into my food storage since my grocery bill would be going to electricity.  After the initial shock,  disbelief started settling in.  I mean how could it be possible?  The bill was double what we paid at the peak of summer using our AC everyday and we were even out of town 1 week of January. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to call the electric company and beg and plea for some answer to what appliance I had that was sucking so much electricity and how my bill could possibly be this high.  I explained my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dilemma&lt;/span&gt; to the customer service agent and she asked me if I knew where my meter was.  After a little bit of searching I found it and she had me read her the meter.   She asked me to hold for a minute and then came back..."Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Erard&lt;/span&gt;, it looks like your meter was read improperly.  We will be sending you out a new bill in the next few days and you can disregard that bill".  "huh?" is all that went through my mind.   How does one misread a meter?  Isn't that the only job a meter reader has?  To read meters?  Is it really that difficult.  If there are any meter readers out there please explain.  Anyway, she was unable to tell me what my new bill would be but she said it would be substantially lower and even lower than my last months bill.  I thought last month my bill was high but I wrote it off to Christmas lights and extra baking...now I'm wondering.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; they can't go back in  the records  to correct past bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad they were able to correct the problem but now I'm wondering how often am I being billed incorrectly for things.  If I hadn't called and just paid the bill no one would have ever known.   It's the fleecing of America I tell you!  Keep an eye on your electric company and if something seems fishy, don't hesitate to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, some have wondered what ever happened in our plumbing episode.  Luckily Dave was able to get it all fixed the next day.  I had to spend a night and a day without a kitchen or bathroom sink and my kitchen sink plug doesn't quite work anymore... but at least everything drains and there are no leaks!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;whoo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hooo&lt;/span&gt;, you have to love home ownership.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3617343929373801554?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3617343929373801554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3617343929373801554' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3617343929373801554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3617343929373801554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/738-dollars-and-68-cents.html' title='738 dollars and 68 cents'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2571148663365626985</id><published>2009-01-28T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T17:12:30.305-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I Cook Dinner Because??</title><content type='html'>I tried a delicious Cooking Light &lt;a href="http://find.myrecipes.com/recipes/recipefinder.dyn?action=displayRecipe&amp;amp;recipe_id=1835285"&gt;recipe&lt;/a&gt; that my friend Leigh recommended tonight.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SYEAebOTOAI/AAAAAAAAAik/8QhBKztQTmc/s1600-h/chicken-sandwich-ck-1835285-l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296515159468226562" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SYEAebOTOAI/AAAAAAAAAik/8QhBKztQTmc/s320/chicken-sandwich-ck-1835285-l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I thought it was delicious anyway.  Nick refused to touch it, Gavin threw it on the floor, and Ryan ate half and then told me it "tastes like something yucky".  I can't remember a weeknight where Dad was home to eat with us, so basically I spend 30+ minutes cooking a hot dinner that the kids won't touch and I might get a bite or two of standing up while the they are in the bath.  I know that there are three of you out there whose kids eat everything you serve them, congratulations, your kids probably do everything they are told and learned how to read when they were 2 also.  While I love to cook, dinnertime has turned into a dreaded hour at our house.  But this recipe really is very tasty, if you ask me and not my kids!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2571148663365626985?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2571148663365626985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2571148663365626985' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2571148663365626985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2571148663365626985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-i-cook-dinner-because.html' title='And I Cook Dinner Because??'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SYEAebOTOAI/AAAAAAAAAik/8QhBKztQTmc/s72-c/chicken-sandwich-ck-1835285-l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5032095160676831812</id><published>2009-01-26T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T18:32:44.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd still pick you</title><content type='html'>Driving in my car, thinking about as imperfect as we both are, I have an amazing husband. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick up cell phone and dial him at work.  Ring ring, ring ring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'd still pick you.  Even after 10 years and all the men I've met or known, I'd still pick you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: I'd still pick you too.  {Long pause}  Did I forget our anniversary or something?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5032095160676831812?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5032095160676831812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5032095160676831812' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5032095160676831812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5032095160676831812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/id-still-pick-you.html' title='I&apos;d still pick you'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1952666327916489189</id><published>2009-01-22T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T20:19:24.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have to write something!</title><content type='html'>Blank I tell you...my mind is blank.  For at least a week now I've been trying to think of something to blog about but my mind is totally blank.  I start feeling guilty, breaking out in a cold sweat, and have a little panic attack when I think that it's been at least a week since I blogged.   ( a little bit of exaggeration but still...)  Is my life really that boring?  Things are just moving along as normal.  I try to get things done while the kids &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;-do them.  Emma goes to school.  Ben takes a nap.  Jacob talks back (Jacob yes Jacob!  Four does not suit him well) I check my email and update my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; status (I really don't know why but I do)  BTW I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; is becoming a little bit stalker-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;... but that's another story for another time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because all my favorite shows have started up again.  Does Lost just totally blow your mind because it does mine!  Has anyone been watching Idol?  I love that show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because I've been so dang tired (and lazy) lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's because the weather has been so nice and we've been spending time outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.  I just wanted to check in and say hi.  No funny stories.  No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;quippy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;antecdotes&lt;/span&gt; (I have no idea how to spell that and apparantly neither does blogger).  I guess &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sometimes&lt;/span&gt; it's good for life to be boring.  I'm happy, the kids are happy.  Sometimes vanilla is just the right flavor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1952666327916489189?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1952666327916489189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1952666327916489189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1952666327916489189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1952666327916489189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-have-to-write-something.html' title='I have to write something!'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1480205197201146837</id><published>2009-01-15T09:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T09:51:04.799-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry PostScript</title><content type='html'>Me transfering the pee sheets from the washing machine to the dryer: "What the!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, I washed the leaky pull up too.  Dang it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the washer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1480205197201146837?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1480205197201146837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1480205197201146837' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1480205197201146837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1480205197201146837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/laundry-postscript.html' title='Laundry PostScript'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3164669640980339493</id><published>2009-01-15T07:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T07:11:47.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil Laughter</title><content type='html'>When I was making my bed this morning, I thought to myself: "This is the first day all week that I don't have a load of laundry to do!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the laundry gods tilted their heads back and roared "Mmmmmuuuuuuuaaaaaahhhhhhh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan woke up with a leaky pullup and a crib full of PJs, sheets and blankets that needing washing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.  It was a nice thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3164669640980339493?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3164669640980339493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3164669640980339493' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3164669640980339493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3164669640980339493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/evil-laughter.html' title='Evil Laughter'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6792114254530207324</id><published>2009-01-10T18:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T18:31:19.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ISO: Shower in Peace</title><content type='html'>Smart moms out there, who is going to patent a device to keep your shower doors locked, free from little hands sliding them open so you don't have to take a one-handed shower (when you GET a shower that is!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6792114254530207324?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6792114254530207324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6792114254530207324' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6792114254530207324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6792114254530207324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/iso-shower-in-peace.html' title='ISO: Shower in Peace'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4201401137181594519</id><published>2009-01-10T15:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T09:41:55.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Christmas Recap</title><content type='html'>in pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4r5FXlI/AAAAAAAAAP0/3yscsW8Da-c/s1600-h/IMG_6195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4r5FXlI/AAAAAAAAAP0/3yscsW8Da-c/s320/IMG_6195.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Benjamin on his new swing from Grandma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4pUAQQI/AAAAAAAAAP8/cxA4yyW8d3U/s1600-h/IMG_6210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4pUAQQI/AAAAAAAAAP8/cxA4yyW8d3U/s320/IMG_6210.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Decorating the tree&lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-you-should-never-leave-your-husband.html"&gt; (before the disaster)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4z9IMcI/AAAAAAAAAQE/_kaCdqIUXhA/s1600-h/IMG_6245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4z9IMcI/AAAAAAAAAQE/_kaCdqIUXhA/s320/IMG_6245.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Making Gingerbread houses - the whole kit was 4.99 at Trader Joes, candy, frosting and everything!  And super easy to make. Loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq40GCiqI/AAAAAAAAAQM/d8LXC-tjOiI/s1600-h/IMG_6265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq40GCiqI/AAAAAAAAAQM/d8LXC-tjOiI/s320/IMG_6265.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening Presents.  Emma with her new American Girl Doll - Kirsten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkswk-qaQI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lB8rtghxnZM/s1600-h/IMG_6266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkswk-qaQI/AAAAAAAAAQU/lB8rtghxnZM/s320/IMG_6266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289808450395203842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ben with his new truck for outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWksxGmYpSI/AAAAAAAAAQk/chW86uhM-F0/s1600-h/IMG_6285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWksxGmYpSI/AAAAAAAAAQk/chW86uhM-F0/s320/IMG_6285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289808459420181794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dancing in the kitchen to Mom's new Ipod speaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkswy-CECI/AAAAAAAAAQc/jPWWu9HRm30/s1600-h/IMG_6272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkswy-CECI/AAAAAAAAAQc/jPWWu9HRm30/s320/IMG_6272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289808454150656034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Trying to get a picture of all three kids under the tree.  &lt;/span&gt;I don't know why that last line is underlinded but I can't fix it so sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went up to Sacramento for New Year's and I didn't take one picture! We we had a great time playing at Grandma's house and visiting family.  The kids got to play unlimited Webkiz with grandma and loved it of course.  I got to sleep in until 11:00 one morning and loved it of course.  Grandma's are the best!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4201401137181594519?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4201401137181594519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4201401137181594519' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4201401137181594519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4201401137181594519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas-recap.html' title='The Christmas Recap'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWkq4r5FXlI/AAAAAAAAAP0/3yscsW8Da-c/s72-c/IMG_6195.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1054982784671698680</id><published>2009-01-08T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T20:03:43.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December Huh?</title><content type='html'>I can't believe December has come and gone and we're already a week into January. I keep freaking out that I haven't posted our December happenings but then I think - Is it totally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;narcissistic&lt;/span&gt; of me to think that people are actually interested in what I did in December?  Like...who really cares?   Then I remember that this blog is my journal so although I do enjoy having readers and reading others blogs, it's really a way to record my history for my kids.  With that said...I should start with Jacob's birthday in the beginning of December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWZn2moJjII/AAAAAAAAAOo/eSfknsOdQgg/s1600-h/IMG_6184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWZn2moJjII/AAAAAAAAAOo/eSfknsOdQgg/s320/IMG_6184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289029000172768386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Jacob, not only is he the easy going "middle" child, he also got stuck with a birthday in December.  Two things he can use against me when he grows up for why he had a troubled childhood.    He really is such a good kid and so easy going that he does get overlooked much of the time with the drama his sister is continually spinning.  Sometimes he tries to copy her drama tantrums. He'll storm down the hallway and stomp his foot and put his hand on his hip in the same manner she does and it looks so hilarious Dave and I just try not to laugh.   Somehow a boy doing that just doesn't look the same as a girl.  Anyway, let me tell you a little bit about Jacob so at least he'll know when he grows up how much I truly love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob had a great 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday party (although I've no pictures to show since I forgot to put a memory card in the camera, yet another thing he can use against me).   He got a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;spiderman&lt;/span&gt; bike for his birthday which he LOVES and rides around everywhere,  and it sure beats riding Emma's pink princess bike around.   There are many things that make Jacob (he only goes by Jacob now - apparently he's outgrown nicknames) so endearing, but a few of the things I love best about him are his gentleness, kindness, and the way he always thinks of others first.  I love watching him play with other kids because he always wants to make sure they are comfortable - have a snack, get a turn etc.  It's especially &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;humorous&lt;/span&gt; with little girls.  Whenever Emma's friends come over Jacob always makes sure they are taken care of - it's really cute.  He's really a little gentleman.  He also loves to snuggle and always tells me he loves me.  He really gives the best hugs ever - we like to call them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;squeezy&lt;/span&gt; hugs.  He has the cutest little grin and he loves to think he's funny.  He'll try to tell a joke by saying "knock, knock"  who's there?  "piano"  and he'll just bust up laughing like he said the funniest thing ever.   He is the funniest though when he doesn't even mean to be.  He asks me some questions that are so out there I just crack up.  I wish I could think of something he said lately but I'll have to remember those for another post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the past few months he really has blossomed into a little boy, getting a little rambunctious and even rebellious at times, he is just a sweetheart and I'm so thankful for my mellow middle child who brings me peace in the world of chaos his brother and sister create!  I don't know how he got smashed in the middle of two crazy kids but I'm sure it was meant to be - at least for my sanity.  Happy birthday little buddy (I can call him that here even if he won't let me do it in person anymore...in his words "I'm just Jacob").&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1054982784671698680?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1054982784671698680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1054982784671698680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1054982784671698680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1054982784671698680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/december-huh.html' title='December Huh?'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SWZn2moJjII/AAAAAAAAAOo/eSfknsOdQgg/s72-c/IMG_6184.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-8332016932006899071</id><published>2009-01-07T21:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T21:12:30.599-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's Daddy?</title><content type='html'>Everyone's entitled to a little bragging now and then.  My husband is one hard-working guy and my google alert on his name is freaking out this week while he's out in Vegas for &lt;a href="http://www.cesweb.org/"&gt;CES&lt;/a&gt; (no, Mormons, he does not work for the Church Educational System).  He's no stranger to the press in the tech/Econ world, but I think it's fun to see his name in the bigger journals.  Click &lt;a href="http://blogs.wsj.com/digits/2009/01/07/ces-economist-gadgets-are-necessities-now/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see what he's doing while I'm home with three kids who keep asking when daddy's coming home!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-8332016932006899071?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/8332016932006899071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=8332016932006899071' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8332016932006899071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/8332016932006899071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/wheres-daddy.html' title='Where&apos;s Daddy?'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4869876760963434310</id><published>2009-01-05T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T21:09:30.031-08:00</updated><title type='text'>UNO and the Power of God</title><content type='html'>I felt like my attempts at &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/hf/fhe/welcome/0,16785,4210-1,00.html"&gt;Family Home Evening&lt;/a&gt; tonight were a total failure as the kids wrestled and whined all the way through all 5 minutes of my lesson ("We don't like to hear you sing!" "When can we play UNO??").  Somehow Nick must have paid a little bit of attention because I later found him flipping through the Bible, trying to find the story about Jesus as a baby.  "WHAT are you doing?!" I demanded, annoyed that after an hour and a half wind-down, FHE, several games and story-time, the kids had their lights on and clearly not going to sleep.  Remember my husband left town for a week today, which started out with the baby screaming his head off from 4-6am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh." Nick says "I'm just trying to learn more about the gospel like you said.  You know, about baptism and the power of God." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.... Guess I'll let it slide this time.  I need to give those kids a little more credit than I generally do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4869876760963434310?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4869876760963434310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4869876760963434310' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4869876760963434310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4869876760963434310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/uno-and-power-of-god.html' title='UNO and the Power of God'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2846393565712651707</id><published>2009-01-05T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T20:53:52.558-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Started Somewhere</title><content type='html'>I have a million other things I should be doing right now instead of sitting at my computer, blogging.  I'm behind...oh yes, waayyyy behind.  My house is covered in piles of laundry and not an ornament has been removed from my seriously dead Christmas tree.   We just got home from Sacramento last night and I spent most of the day defrosting from a week of cold toes and recuping from late nights spent with friends and family...oh yeah, and crying sick babies.  In fact, my blogging right now is a diversion meant to keep me from going in and picking up sick, crying baby at this moment.  There is some serious bedtime protesting going on lately and I'm not sure why.  And poor Ben, there is no grandma's lap here tonight to sit on and play computer games ,so nobody is rescuing him from bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured that since I'm behind in all areas - including my December blogging, I might as well start here - laundry can wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, crying sick bedtime protesting baby is on my lap now so I guess I'll stay behind in blogging one more day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2846393565712651707?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2846393565712651707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2846393565712651707' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2846393565712651707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2846393565712651707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/getting-started-somewhere.html' title='Getting Started Somewhere'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6026478783077085782</id><published>2009-01-02T17:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T17:16:45.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Ghost?</title><content type='html'>Overheard while the boys are in their room, waiting to be "rescued" by dad since they are sentenced to bed by mom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick prays and then tells Ryan: "The Holy Ghost told me that Dad is on the highway.  That means he'll be home really soon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan: "Ghost?  What ghost Nick?  Outside?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6026478783077085782?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6026478783077085782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6026478783077085782' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6026478783077085782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6026478783077085782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-ghost.html' title='What Ghost?'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6342467385359638907</id><published>2008-12-30T21:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T21:25:00.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Could I Forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;While I was giving you the December blow-by-blow, I completely forgot about the party of the year AKA Shawn's birthday celebration. Due to Thanksgiving and my NYC trip, we had to celebrate a little late this year, but I think the fondue fest was a big success. While good food is always great, the best part was definitely gathering with old and new friends, having uninterrupted conversation without kids, and talking late into the night with the hardiest partiers - you know who you are! I really meant to take photos and completely forgot, so you have to pretend. Here is my favorite place in my house, the kitchen.  See the center island?  Picture the oil and broth pots here, along with sirloin, chicken, shrimp, and six dipping sauces to choose from.  Moving to the counter space to the right of the island, this is where the three cheese pots and dippers were located.  Finally, the chocolate and caramel pots were on the table in the Florida room/area beyond that with cheesecake, brownies, rice krispie treats, marshmellows, pretzels, fresh pineapple, and strawberries.  I love having enough space for the whole party to gather in the kitchen, since that is where people always end up hanging out anyway.  And since you didn't see any photos of Shawn and I opening Christmas gifts, it's because we're giving each other the mortgage this year - what a great gift that gets to be given not just in December, but every month of the year!  And Happy Birthday Shawn!  I'm already looking forward to next year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVsAWhiC7_I/AAAAAAAAAhI/7R8HsDFz8HQ/s1600-h/IMG_3190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285818974607699954" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVsAWhiC7_I/AAAAAAAAAhI/7R8HsDFz8HQ/s320/IMG_3190.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6342467385359638907?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6342467385359638907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6342467385359638907' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6342467385359638907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6342467385359638907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/how-could-i-forget.html' title='How Could I Forget'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVsAWhiC7_I/AAAAAAAAAhI/7R8HsDFz8HQ/s72-c/IMG_3190.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7719678746014436322</id><published>2008-12-30T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T21:05:33.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And Ryan Turns Three...</title><content type='html'>December birthdays blow. Everyone knows it and there are a million reasons why. We had a small friend party at the Rec Center soft play room earlier in Dec., but had a "ree-oh" cake and ice cream on his actual birthday with the grandparents. Ryan loves everything "ree-oh" aka firetrucks (he can actually say firetruck now but everyone in the family continues his baby-talk version of using the sound instead of the name). He has not taken off his fireman boots that Santa brought except for to sleep at night. This is the awesome outfit he wore to the grocery store the night before his bday to shop for ice cream with me. I officially don't care if he wears pajamas all day long, everywhere we go. It makes him happy and I think he is adorable even if the rest of the world is saying in their head "What is she thinking taking him out of the house like that?"  He held my hand all through the store - I love chubby little boy hands, YUM, I will be so sad when they don't hold my hands anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8s_dGfFI/AAAAAAAAAgo/kqsf0A2loo4/s1600-h/IMG_3164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285814962550635602" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8s_dGfFI/AAAAAAAAAgo/kqsf0A2loo4/s320/IMG_3164.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8tPIR2BI/AAAAAAAAAgw/Atg7iyWSgsA/s1600-h/IMG_3170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285814966758266898" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8tPIR2BI/AAAAAAAAAgw/Atg7iyWSgsA/s320/IMG_3170.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8taUbLkI/AAAAAAAAAg4/MuX6WTPk1NQ/s1600-h/IMG_3175.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285814969762000450" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8taUbLkI/AAAAAAAAAg4/MuX6WTPk1NQ/s320/IMG_3175.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8t0SU8AI/AAAAAAAAAhA/hyPSzGAD6Hw/s1600-h/IMG_3179.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285814976732524546" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8t0SU8AI/AAAAAAAAAhA/hyPSzGAD6Hw/s320/IMG_3179.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7719678746014436322?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7719678746014436322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7719678746014436322' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7719678746014436322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7719678746014436322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-ryan-turns-three.html' title='And Ryan Turns Three...'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr8s_dGfFI/AAAAAAAAAgo/kqsf0A2loo4/s72-c/IMG_3164.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7899920736218052040</id><published>2008-12-30T20:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T20:52:51.063-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Day with the DuBies</title><content type='html'>This will be short and sweet after that last one. Promise. Just a few pics for memory's sake. No photos of all the fighting we did over whether or not Santa was visiting our house or grandma's.  Wouldn't be Christmas without some family fighting now, would it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr40lxHeqI/AAAAAAAAAgg/K3iB9EJaeL8/s1600-h/IMG_3157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285810695047707298" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr40lxHeqI/AAAAAAAAAgg/K3iB9EJaeL8/s320/IMG_3157.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr40AJt6NI/AAAAAAAAAgY/OaJpqf3f9IQ/s1600-h/IMG_3154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285810684950341842" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr40AJt6NI/AAAAAAAAAgY/OaJpqf3f9IQ/s320/IMG_3154.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr4zJDr0fI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/ZYgUMNZEsSo/s1600-h/IMG_3139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285810670161089010" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr4zJDr0fI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/ZYgUMNZEsSo/s320/IMG_3139.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr4y2AgaBI/AAAAAAAAAgI/dEE8LPKGnMU/s1600-h/IMG_3133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285810665047484434" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr4y2AgaBI/AAAAAAAAAgI/dEE8LPKGnMU/s320/IMG_3133.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Grandma and Grandpa were ready for some peace and quiet, we hauled the stash home and spent the evening having dessert and some laughs with some good friends.  The kids gave us a bonus Christmas gift by entertaining themselves late into the night so we got to discuss all kinds of important topics like what type of plastic surgery the men would have done.  I mean, we talked about the state of the economy and healthcare reform.  All in all, it was a low-key, relaxing Christmas and I was motivated to come home and finish painting the basement so we can get the carpet installed ASAP and move Toys R Us downstairs in January.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7899920736218052040?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7899920736218052040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7899920736218052040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7899920736218052040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7899920736218052040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-day-with-dubies.html' title='Christmas Day with the DuBies'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVr40lxHeqI/AAAAAAAAAgg/K3iB9EJaeL8/s72-c/IMG_3157.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1743724692751121995</id><published>2008-12-30T19:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T20:27:26.395-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Blog:</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like we have been growing apart lately. Don't worry though, it's not you; it's me. Can we still be friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WARNING: LONG POST. I repeat, LONG POST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;December is always a hectic month, but don't worry, we did try to remember the whole reason for the season. As we performed some service for a family on Christmas Eve, my 5-year old began insisting "Christmas is about getting, NOT giving!!" and my husband and I looked at each other and said "How have we screwed this up so badly? What is wrong with our family?" Maybe nothing is wrong with us. Maybe it's just part of being five. I don't know. Anyway, here's what we've been up to this month:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;NYC - I was lucky enough to spend a very cold but very fun three days in NYC for the first annual? Mother-Daughters weekend. I came home happy and relaxed to a husband who was overheard saying things like "I don't know how you do this!" as he collapsed in bed from utter exhaustion. We decided that it is good for both of us for me to have a get-away each quarter, whoo-hoo! What did we do? We watched movies, slept in, browsed the Bryant Park Christmas booths, ate too much delicious food and got to catch up with our friend Nichole and see her amazing new home in Tribeca. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrs7UI2XZI/AAAAAAAAAeg/PWxRsEauv4s/s1600-h/IMG_3050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285797616434961810" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrs7UI2XZI/AAAAAAAAAeg/PWxRsEauv4s/s320/IMG_3050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrs7nn-IYI/AAAAAAAAAeo/eKfJFb_Qs44/s1600-h/IMG_3054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285797621665767810" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrs7nn-IYI/AAAAAAAAAeo/eKfJFb_Qs44/s320/IMG_3054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ryan's Preschool Christmas program - Emphasis on CHRISTMAS, thank goodness for a Christian preschool since you better not actually say the "C" word at public school, where my kindergartner celebrated every holiday but. We spun the dreidel, talked about Kwanza and and busted a pinata for La Posada, but do you think we talked about the little babe who changed the world? Sorry, tangent. Back to preschool. How cute is Ryan. How cute are his friends. How cute is he singing Jingle Bells all the time. Just pretend to hear the singing. He is cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVruxRBL8_I/AAAAAAAAAew/eZUb9KgRKGk/s1600-h/IMG_3059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285799642822079474" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVruxRBL8_I/AAAAAAAAAew/eZUb9KgRKGk/s320/IMG_3059.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVruxpIy6zI/AAAAAAAAAe4/0dun2wISGcA/s1600-h/IMG_3076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285799649296444210" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVruxpIy6zI/AAAAAAAAAe4/0dun2wISGcA/s320/IMG_3076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to go ahead and interrup this Christmas-themed post to share an interesting fact since this is the next photo on my memory card. If someone happens to pee all over your Sonicare toothbrush (and your face as you are running in when called to assist and find them spraying the bathroom counter and not the toilet), Sonicare toothbrush heads apparently don't do well in boiling water if you try to disinfect. Just so you know, in case you ever find yourself in this situation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrvoNasABI/AAAAAAAAAfA/Ne8auVF6suo/s1600-h/IMG_3090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285800586748100626" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrvoNasABI/AAAAAAAAAfA/Ne8auVF6suo/s320/IMG_3090.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas Outfits - thanks Grandma! So cute! Too bad it's impossible to get a good photo of all three of them smiling. They tried, it just didn't work out that great.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrwYydNMSI/AAAAAAAAAfI/pntmV0xwV_k/s1600-h/IMG_3097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285801421324497186" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrwYydNMSI/AAAAAAAAAfI/pntmV0xwV_k/s320/IMG_3097.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrwZgPzcrI/AAAAAAAAAfY/deYya-jQqWk/s1600-h/IMG_3099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285801433616315058" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrwZgPzcrI/AAAAAAAAAfY/deYya-jQqWk/s320/IMG_3099.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrwZWfFU1I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/1KguvwNSzPA/s1600-h/IMG_3098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285801430996046674" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrwZWfFU1I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/1KguvwNSzPA/s320/IMG_3098.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas Traditions - We like to go the the National Botanical Gardens to see the train exhibit and then went to walk around the National Christmas tree downtown.  Here is proof we were all there together:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrx9SxSX3I/AAAAAAAAAfo/PKcog6xulrk/s1600-h/IMG_3108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285803147985575794" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrx9SxSX3I/AAAAAAAAAfo/PKcog6xulrk/s320/IMG_3108.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot count how many people stopped to stare at this cute kid in his dalmation hat and gloves (complete with little tongues!).  What can I say.  He's my kid, I have the right to think he is the cutest kid ever.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrx906474I/AAAAAAAAAfw/xZc8Mv6QNeU/s1600-h/IMG_3113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285803157152657282" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrx906474I/AAAAAAAAAfw/xZc8Mv6QNeU/s320/IMG_3113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the kid who was so determined to throw change into the cars of this train, he desperately retrieved his coins every time he missed until he finally claimed victory.  We spent about 10 minutes watching him from the opposite side of the tree, actually we were mostly watching other people watch him and look around to see who was supposed to be parenting this child sticking his legs under the fence to retrieve money.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVryducyqZI/AAAAAAAAAgA/PTSr7tqaNJw/s1600-h/IMG_3116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285803705171618194" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVryducyqZI/AAAAAAAAAgA/PTSr7tqaNJw/s320/IMG_3116.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where was Ryan?  I'm not sure.  But they all ended up wrestling on the ellipse after warming up by the Yule Log.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrx-X6W0AI/AAAAAAAAAf4/juOIthI60fI/s1600-h/IMG_3121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285803166545661954" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrx-X6W0AI/AAAAAAAAAf4/juOIthI60fI/s320/IMG_3121.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, listen, this is getting too long even for me to stand.  Christmas Day will have to be a separate post.  Because I know you are just DYING to see my kids and their presents.  &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrxAQVTh_I/AAAAAAAAAfg/LgKUtCS0-Fg/s1600-h/IMG_3106.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1743724692751121995?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1743724692751121995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1743724692751121995' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1743724692751121995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1743724692751121995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/dear-blog.html' title='Dear Blog:'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SVrs7UI2XZI/AAAAAAAAAeg/PWxRsEauv4s/s72-c/IMG_3050.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2725717807363147308</id><published>2008-12-23T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T20:56:07.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Plumbing</title><content type='html'>Twas Christmas Eve Eve&lt;br /&gt;And all through my house&lt;br /&gt;was the smell of fresh sewer&lt;br /&gt;that would kill a small mouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours ago it smelled of freshly baked bread&lt;br /&gt;and thoughts of Christmas Eve dinner were filling my head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then "oh honey, look here,  oh no, what is the matter?"&lt;br /&gt;It seems a clogged kitchen sink is causing quite a clatter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry my dear, I've got a concoction for this&lt;br /&gt;don't mind the skull and cross bones, it will do the trick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;, well that didn't work let me remove a few pipes,&lt;br /&gt;jam this thing down the drain and see what happens next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoops sorry honey - I knocked the pipe out of the wall&lt;br /&gt;Quick grab the towels so the concoction doesn't go down the hall&lt;br /&gt;A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;splish&lt;/span&gt; and a splash and my wall is all brown&lt;br /&gt;Whatever was put in the garbage disposal didn't go down&lt;br /&gt;Instead it's all over my wall and my floor&lt;br /&gt;and now Dave is trying to fix even more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish us some luck and send us some wishes&lt;br /&gt;I need to be able to wash my Christmas dishes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2725717807363147308?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2725717807363147308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2725717807363147308' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2725717807363147308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2725717807363147308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/twas-christmas-eve-eve-and-all-through.html' title='Ode to Plumbing'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3015347266052259896</id><published>2008-12-21T09:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T21:13:48.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say the Darndest things</title><content type='html'>I mentioned last week I had to drag everyone to the pet store for food.  The reason we were at the pet store and not say...Target where I usually buy cat food is because I actually needed to go to Staples to finish up a present for a friend.   Staples and Petsmart are right next to each other so when I pulled into the parking lot and saw Petsmart I thought to myself "who-hoo, two birds with one stone".  So as we were meandering around Staples checking things off my list I warned the kids that IF they wanted to go next door and see the animals then they MUST behave while mommy tries to finish her shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, we all know that was an empty threat because we all know I HAD to get cat food and what crazy mom is going to waste a walk next door to finish an errand as opposed to loading and unloading three kids somewhere else to accomplish said errand? NOT ME.  But I made the threat just the same.  After two warnings for their behavior in the store I said "that's it!  we're not going to the pet store to see the animals, I've had enough!"  At which point they started begging and pleading.."please mom, we'll behave now, we prooommmise, pleeaasse!" and a few tears were shed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was actually going to stick to my guns on this one and I said "Nope,  sorry.  I gave you warnings and now we've lost the chance"  to which Emma retorts "but mom...don't you remember Jonah!  God gives everyone a second chance.  And if God can give everyone a second chance than so should you!" How do I reply to that?   I caved of course. "Alright"...I said.  "One more chance  and that's it".   They actually did behave the rest of the time and if Jacob started acting up Emma would whisper to him to stop so we could go to the pet store.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3015347266052259896?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3015347266052259896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3015347266052259896' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3015347266052259896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3015347266052259896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/kids-say-darndest-things.html' title='Kids Say the Darndest things'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-7894204466561308445</id><published>2008-12-19T22:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T22:43:13.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Cat Likes Refried Beans and other things I've learned this crazy Christmas Season</title><content type='html'>So, it's been awhile since I've been able to make it to the store for cat food.  My poor spoiled cat won't just eat dry food but insists on having something mushy to moisten his pallet.  I was completely out of cat food and was searching for something to feed him so he would stop rubbing on my leg and biting at my toes.  I'd already used up the remains of the turkey lunch meat on him the night before.  The only thing mushy I had in the house was refried beans and voila!  he liked them.  I drug the kids to the pet store last night (which they actually love to do) and now my kitty is happy as a clam now that his pantry is restocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the pet store -let me digress with a funny story...When we lived in Virginia and got to hang out with our favorite blogger Andrea and her first born, it was inevitable that whatever phase Nick was going through or new trick he learned, Emma would follow by about a week.  It became uncanny to me but great because I always new what I was in for.  It was always about a week to the day that Emma would say or do something that Nick had done the week before.  Anyway, when I rushed the kids through the pet store last night and tricked them out the door without getting their fill on guinea pigs and geckos they were not happy with me.  Emma exclaimed: "that's fine mom...I'm just going to run away then if your not going to let me see the animals!".  I had to chuckle because it had been exactly a week  since I Annie had  &lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/run-away.html"&gt;posted about Nicks threats to run away.&lt;/a&gt;   It's good to hear that even though we're so far apart, I can count on Nick to keep me one step ahead in the parenting game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to things I"ve learned this Christmas season:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glue sticks are meant for kids crafts and not for making Christmas cards.  If you get your card and your tree has fallen off because the glue stick from the 99 cents store didn't hold up, well, then...I'm sorry.  I obviously didn't learn this tip in time.  And if you don't get a card from me, well, then...Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't decide to make handmade Christmas cards, a scrapbook for a friend, several baby blankets and 15 plates of homemade goodies all one week before Christmas while at the same time volunteering to run your daughters kindergarten Christmas party.  I guess it just wouldn't be the Christmas season without a little bit of stress though - it keeps me on my toes.  I'm looking forward to this next week of R&amp;amp;R now that everything is done (except the wrapping) and hoping the kids new toys will keep them occupied for a few days while I slip into a deep sleep  after downing a box of Sees candy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget the true meaning of Christmas.  I love the Little People Nativity set we have that the kids can play with and learn about the true meaning of Christmas.  Ben said "Jesus" for the first time today and it was so darn cute because he adds a little lisp to it.  I'm trying, in all this holiday madness, to teach my children that Christmas isn't just about the toys and the parties, but it is a time to celebrate the birth and life of our Savior.  This year I told them that we each get 3 presents from Santa to represent the 3 presents the wise men gave to the baby Jesus.  I thought it was a good way to keep things simple and at the same time give some meaning to a wonderful tradition of giving and receiving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-7894204466561308445?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/7894204466561308445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=7894204466561308445' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7894204466561308445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/7894204466561308445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-cat-likes-refried-beans-and-other.html' title='My Cat Likes Refried Beans and other things I&apos;ve learned this crazy Christmas Season'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-4764094540533473275</id><published>2008-12-15T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T19:02:16.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story of the Day</title><content type='html'>Oh Ryan.  Sweet Ryan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Ryan's girlfriends had a potty accident outside at a playdate today, so her mom took off her wet pants (insert weather note: it was a very atypical 65 degrees here today).  Ryan immediately begins to unbutton his jeans because, well, if she can run around with no pants, then why can't he, right.  I explain that no, she has no pants on because she went pee pee on them.  Wanna guess what he does next?  Yep.  Looks at me, intentionally pees his pants, and begins stripping off the jeans (and pantyhose.  Yes, pantyhose.  I hid my swimsuits from him so he's gotten into pantyhose.  Direct quote: "comfy and keep me warm"). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, our playdate was over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-4764094540533473275?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/4764094540533473275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=4764094540533473275' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4764094540533473275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/4764094540533473275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/story-of-day.html' title='Story of the Day'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6656407562809431989</id><published>2008-12-15T01:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T01:45:54.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly Me</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I confuse I-Tunes and You-tube and I say I-tube.  "Dave, you have to go watch such and such on I-tube, it's so funny".  Silly Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier this week I was rushing around cleaning and I heard a crash outside.  I went to run out the back patio door, which I thought was open, but apparently the screen was closed.   Nose first into into a screen door kinda hurts.  I ran into it so hard I knocked it down.  Silly me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was Jacob's 4th birthday party.  It was wonderful - everything he wanted - the presents the wrappings, the spiderman trimmings and trappings.  I was snapping pictures left and right of delightful faces enjoying themselves.  Jacob blowing out candles, bouncing in the spiderman bounce house.  Last night I went to download the photo memories  and -&lt;br /&gt;uh  oh...apparently digital SLR cameras still take pictures without a memory card in them.  Ouch, learned that the hard way.  Silly me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late right now, it's so late that it's tomorrow and I'm still up.  Sewing projects, making presents on the computer, typing the Christmas letter.  It was that nap from 7 - 9 tonight that got me.  For some reason I think since I had that little nap I won't be tired when little ones wake me up in a couple of hours...silly me...silly, silly me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6656407562809431989?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6656407562809431989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6656407562809431989' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6656407562809431989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6656407562809431989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/silly-me.html' title='Silly Me'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2721942987080337452</id><published>2008-12-14T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T19:33:22.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Beliver</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't know, I believed in Santa Claus until I was about 11 or 12. I got the news from reading my mom's Redbook magazine, where a reader wrote in about whether or not to tell her kids that Santa wasn't real. I was devastated. All of those years I spent fighting and arguing with my nonbelieving friends, I remember clear as day insisting to my friend Kajal (who didn't celebrate Christmas) that she just didn't believe, that you had to believe in order for Santa to come to your house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we were reading scriptures tonight about faith and I asked Nick what he thinks faith is. We talked about knowing that something is true even if we can't see it, and he says "Mom, some of my friends at school say that Santa isn't real. But I know he is. My friends Charlie and Preston and Wesley, we know that Santa is real even though the others say he isn't." Can you imagine how thrilled I was to hear this? I LOVE the magic of Christmas and I am so glad to have a true believer in the family!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2721942987080337452?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2721942987080337452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2721942987080337452' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2721942987080337452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2721942987080337452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/another-beliver.html' title='Another Beliver'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-5191852632834866181</id><published>2008-12-11T09:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T09:09:32.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why You Should Never Leave Your Husband</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;...Home alone with the Christmas Tree.  Because when you leave it will look like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SUFI1JDdW2I/AAAAAAAAAMY/l7l1utx0N0E/s1600-h/IMG_6224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SUFI1JDdW2I/AAAAAAAAAMY/l7l1utx0N0E/s320/IMG_6224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you return it may look like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SUFI1rXNC2I/AAAAAAAAAMg/hUkKLP1-2W8/s1600-h/IMG_6228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SUFI1rXNC2I/AAAAAAAAAMg/hUkKLP1-2W8/s320/IMG_6228.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you notice besides the lights and ornaments are missing that the bottom half of the tree is missing!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; said tree toppled over so said husband thought maybe it was too bottom heavy.  Some pruning shears and 50 branches later - my tree is half naked.  I guess it's my fault for pining over (yes pun intended) such a beautiful tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picking a tree off the back of a flat bed truck at Costco isn't exactly the same experience as going out to the woods and cutting one down as we always did as a kid.  But who could pass up 33 dollars for a 7 ft Noble fir.    We didn't even actually see the tree until we got it home and untied the ropes -  and boy was it a beauty.   This is the prettiest Noble Fir tree I had ever seen.  It was perfectly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;symmetrical&lt;/span&gt; on all sides, no holes in it, and a nice strait top for the star.  Even said husband whom I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;affectionately&lt;/span&gt; deem scrooge at Christmas time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ooed&lt;/span&gt; and awed over such a beautiful tree.  And when we got the lights on it, it was spectacular.  I always let the kids put the ornaments wherever they want and have given up on having a perfect looking tree.  It's more important to me to see the kids enjoying the tree and having their favorite ornaments where they want to put them.  But this year, even with the ornaments all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;scitter&lt;/span&gt; scatter...it was a beautiful tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the lights are back on and the ornaments are placed where they were (75% of them on the front and grouped together) and it looks a little better.    But I'm going to miss that big bushy bottom portion of my tree.  sniff sniff&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-5191852632834866181?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/5191852632834866181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=5191852632834866181' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5191852632834866181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/5191852632834866181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-you-should-never-leave-your-husband.html' title='Why You Should Never Leave Your Husband'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SUFI1JDdW2I/AAAAAAAAAMY/l7l1utx0N0E/s72-c/IMG_6224.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-6602254480584178335</id><published>2008-12-10T16:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T17:09:48.419-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Run Away</title><content type='html'>I still need to post about my NYC trip last weekend, but this is fresh, doesn't involve photos, and I need to remember this moment: the first time my own child threatened to run away. I clearly remember many, many plots to run away, but did any of them occur this young, mom? Five???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a very fun evening playdate that involved dinner with friends, we came home to get ready for bed when the wailing began. Can you believe that Mom said "No" when Nick started begging to watch Polar Express at bedtime after our fun evening out? After about thirty minutes of crying (who needs a girl anyway with this kind of drama?), he began listing all of the people who are mean to him: different friends and their offenses and everyone in the family except for Gavin. The plan was hatched: he decided he was going to get a tent and hike to Charlie's neighborhood to spend the night. He dressed himself in jeans and his favorite red polo and started to pack the PJs but got distracted as I read a book to Ryan. As I explained to him how much I loved him and how cold and lonely and scary it would be to run away, the crying began again as he wailed "But GOD will be with me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear. It took everything to not laugh out loud. I finally convinced him to get under the covers and he fell asleep, still mumbling that he was going to pack in the morning so he could run away....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-6602254480584178335?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/6602254480584178335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=6602254480584178335' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6602254480584178335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/6602254480584178335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/run-away.html' title='Run Away'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-2935632470923747043</id><published>2008-12-05T08:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T08:30:05.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What R U Up To?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Emma&lt;/span&gt; - sitting in front of the T.V. watching "Trashy Town" our new favorite show.   No it's not what it sounds like.  It's about Mr. Gilly who drives &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;around Trashytown&lt;/span&gt; in his Trash Truck and collects the Trash.   "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dump it in, Smash it down, Drive around the Trashy Town"  "I love to clean up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Trashytown&lt;/span&gt;".  &lt;/span&gt;Sung to the catchiest tune ever that sticks in my head all day.  Anyone ever seen it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jacob &lt;/span&gt;- Having a sleep over with grandma and grandpa for a couple of nights.  Last night I realized how quiet it can be at night without someone getting up to go the bathroom 3 or 4 times and leaving the lights on.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Seriously&lt;/span&gt;...small bladder on that kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ben &lt;/span&gt;- throwing his cheese on the floor as he chants "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;"  (fruit).  He's already had 2 fruit cups.  Our last conversation goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Want some yogurt?&lt;br /&gt;Ben: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Cereal?&lt;br /&gt;Ben: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Eggs?&lt;br /&gt;Ben: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Cheese?&lt;br /&gt;Ben  Cheese??&lt;br /&gt;I give him the cheese...soon it all hits the floor "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ruit&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mom&lt;/span&gt; - (that's me) sitting in my nice warm robe, peeling sticky foam tape off the wall next to my computer that some little hand stuck on there, and wondering which project I'm going to tackle in the next 2 hours before it's time to leave for school...pay bills?  clean my room?  Unpack from last weeks vacation? start designing my Christmas card?  Start making that baby blanket for the shower tomorrow? clean up the kitchen? start planting the 100 bulbs sitting in a bag outside? get dressed?  take a shower?  so many options...I think I'll just sit and blog. Then I'll check all my friends blogs.  Then I'll check their friends blogs so I can find out what interesting things other people, who I don't even know, are doing.  That should fill my time until it's time to leave for school.  I might try and squeeze that shower in there though...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-2935632470923747043?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/2935632470923747043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=2935632470923747043' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2935632470923747043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/2935632470923747043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/what-r-u-up-to.html' title='What R U Up To?'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-1420408166376089155</id><published>2008-12-05T06:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T06:48:37.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am What I Create</title><content type='html'>Last week I blogged about &lt;a href="http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/11/paradigms.html"&gt;Paradigms&lt;/a&gt; and left off with a promise to blog about the second person who has recently influenced my thoughts about motherhood.  I'm sure you've been just waiting on pins and needles for more of my verbose diatribe that is my mind so here you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In October, Elder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Uchtdorf&lt;/span&gt; gave a wonderful talk in Women's conference titled &lt;a href="http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD&amp;amp;locale=0&amp;amp;sourceId=15674bb52a73d110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&amp;amp;hideNav=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Happiness, Your Heritage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that you can find &lt;a href="http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD&amp;amp;locale=0&amp;amp;sourceId=15674bb52a73d110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&amp;amp;hideNav=1"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; if you didn't hear it. It is a wonderful talk and I urge you to read it. The whole talk was awesome, but the one thing that stuck with me was when he talked about creating things. He talked about our inherent need and ability as humans to create things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" name="35"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He then went on to talk about how some might say to themselves that they aren't good at doing anything, they aren't crafty, good at cooking, etc etc. but it simply isn't true. Everyone can create something. Everything we are doing as a mother is an act of creating. Having children in and of itself is creation. So, I have taken this to heart. I try to look at my daily tasks as tasks of creation rather than tasks of mundane routine. It really has made an impact on me and how I see the things I'm doing each day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I created (with some help of course) three human beings. Three beautiful, amazing people and their very lives depend on me each day. I am responsible for what they eat, what they do, where they go, and what they learn each day. Although they have their free agency and decide how they feel and what actions they are going to take - I am the one teaching them either by my words or my actions how to act and live in this world. I am helping them &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fulfill&lt;/span&gt; the measure of their creation. Wow. That is a big but wonderful responsibility. One that I can either rejoice in and accept as an honor to fulfill each day, or one that I can wring my hands at and wonder what in the world was I thinking. (I have had both kinds of days and sure there will be many more of each).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I love creating things with my hands - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;scrapbooking&lt;/span&gt;, sewing(although I'm no good at it), paper crafts, baking, decorating, gardening...  but this past year with the addition of a third child it has thrown off my ability to balance things I want to do with things I need to do to keep my family running and happy.  After Elder &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Uchtdorf's&lt;/span&gt; talk I realized 2 things:  First, the things I do for my family each day are acts of creation and there is so much more I can do with them to fulfill both my needs and theirs if I look for those opportunities.  I've tried more to involve them in all the little projects I have going on around the house (even though it ends up taking twice as long sometimes)  and I try to make the things I do each day - cook dinner, keep up the house etc. be more of an act of creation and love instead of something I just have to do.   And second, I do need to make time to pursue my interests in creating as well so that I can be a happier mama.  Emma and Jacob have been looking at their  baby scrapbooks lately and asking where Ben's is...guilt, guilt, guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So, I am trying in each task I do to look at it as a creation. I don't just make dinner, I create a pallet of flavor and aroma for my family to consume each night. I don't just clean the house, I create a healthy, clean atmosphere to raise my three cherubs in (ha ha). But you get my drift.   So, here are a few things I have created lately in my new found world of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;creativism&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/STk7X8o11II/AAAAAAAAAMI/wqwdR-kaUkI/s1600-h/IMG_5942.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/STk7X8o11II/AAAAAAAAAMI/wqwdR-kaUkI/s320/IMG_5942.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276313721041704066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;I created these yummy Halloween Cupcakes for Emma's bake sale at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/STk7YbIiw7I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/76NZUYa8bJM/s1600-h/IMG_6020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/STk7YbIiw7I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/76NZUYa8bJM/s320/IMG_6020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276313729227735986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I created these fun bunk beds for Jacob and one day for Ben.   They used to be Dave's and they were this super ugly brown wood color from the 70's.  I spent weeks sanding them, priming them and painting them a deep blue to match their dresser.  Then I found these cutest airplane bedspreads online that both Jacob and I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, over the next few months I'll post other things I create...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-1420408166376089155?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/1420408166376089155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=1420408166376089155' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1420408166376089155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/1420408166376089155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-am-what-i-create.html' title='I Am What I Create'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/STk7X8o11II/AAAAAAAAAMI/wqwdR-kaUkI/s72-c/IMG_5942.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3299437194867043732</id><published>2008-12-04T11:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T14:23:26.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inside my head</title><content type='html'>Baking with my kids is not fun. I keep forgetting that I hate it and then I find myself with two flour-covered children sticking their fingers in their mouths and then back in the bowl and I can't tell where the dough ends and the snot begins and I feel cranky instead of joyful that they are making wonderful childhood memories with Mom. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are "those" people at Costco. When we first joined five years ago, we decided it was worth the membership fee for the savings on diapers and milk. We saw a cute family from church there last night with their little baby and five things in their cart and I had to laugh as I looked back at our TWO carts full to the brim, two children strapped in and one on my husband's shoulders. And I don't even browse the "middle-aisle death-trap", sticking to my list. We did finally sign up for the Gold Star and AmEx rewards, so on top of the $38 in coupons I saved last night, we should be getting several hundred dollars back from Costco at the end of the year. I seriously cannot imagine how anyone affords to feed more than five people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love my middle child again. He has spent the last month or so pushing me dangerously close to the brink of insanity, but I finally grew up and started loving him for the sweet, tender, compassionate, and imaginative boy he is. I have really enjoyed stopping whatever I'm doing and playing with him and found myself completely in love with his cute little face again. He loves me so much even when I am yelling at him at the top of my lungs for completely unloading his closet AND all of my baby clothes out of their bins organized by size and season. I don't get it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While on the subject of Ryan and clothes, he is obsessed with raiding my bathing suit drawer and prancing around the house in my women's tankinis. I love him too much to post photos of these lovely ensambles, so you'll have to visualize him with my bathing suit bottoms on and then hiked up around his shoulders to secure the suit on. I guess he'll be comfy in a singlet or speedo if he decides to pick up wrestling or swim team one day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do I always feel the need to nominate myself for Mom of the Day when I let my kids play with play dough? Why do I hate it so much? Why do I get excited when I pack up less playdough than we started with? Why do I even keep it in the house and then just whine about it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am counting the minutes until girls' weekend in NYC tomorrow through Sunday! My mom and sister and I are all going up to visit my sister who lives there and YEAH we are going to have a good time! My little sis is a walking expert on everything NY. Last time my husband and I were up there, we called her at every meal time, gave her our cross streets, and she pulled out an amazing recommendation. Food. Check. Shopping. Check. Fun. Check. Did I mention 50 hours of time without my adorable children? I'm sure I will come home loving them even more. And their dad. Can't forget him now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Loving Christmastime, yes we actually got out our Christmas stuff before Thanksgiving and I love having my tree up. It makes my empty dining room seem a little less empty. And for some strange reason Gavin hasn't discovered the joy of undecorating it yet. I swallowed tradition and went fake this year and LOVE IT! It's nothing amazing out of a magazine and I don't take beautiful magazine-quality photos, but here's a photo anyway. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SThMm9v2O-I/AAAAAAAAAb8/0zt1vdiYhkY/s1600-h/IMG_3034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276051195758525410" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SThMm9v2O-I/AAAAAAAAAb8/0zt1vdiYhkY/s320/IMG_3034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Christmas shopping is not done but under control. I am feeling relaxed and happy. Is there a giant ball of stress waiting for me to walk around the corner so it can dump on me? Will I really make a "poo-poo butt" cake like Ryan keeps requesting for his birthday? What is The Office going to be about tonight? What will I wear my new boots with? Did I tell you I paid $45 for $200 worth of black and brown boots? Does my husband appreciate what a good shopper I am? Well, I'd love to chat more but my kids are banging down the pantry door, gotta get some food on the table!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3299437194867043732?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3299437194867043732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3299437194867043732' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3299437194867043732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3299437194867043732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/inside-my-head.html' title='Inside my head'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5Fk_mRxl0zI/SThMm9v2O-I/AAAAAAAAAb8/0zt1vdiYhkY/s72-c/IMG_3034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-9000365466752649906</id><published>2008-12-01T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T08:07:23.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Many Thanks</title><content type='html'>Here's the post-Thanksgiving recap.  We went to Arizona this Thanksgiving to spend time with my grandparents and family there.   We had a very nice time together and yummy food cooked by grandma.  Is there any meal better than a Thanksgiving meal?  Honestly...is there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The road trip wasn't too bad.  Here are a few of the most popular phrases of the trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emma: "Are we there yet?"&lt;br /&gt;Jacob:  "I see a train!"  (lots of trains on that drive)&lt;br /&gt;Jenny: "Um Honey, do you think you could not check your email while your driving next to the semi...in the rain.  Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;Dave:  "I just love this new Guns and Roses album.  It's so unlike anything they've done before.  Listen to this song.  Oh, and you have to hear this song...It's just like, so cool.  I just love this new Guns and Roses album."  (Jenny: snore, snore.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know it's after Thanksgiving by I've been thinking of the many things I'm thankful for.  Here are just a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wonderful family, of course - children, husband extended family - somehow I lucked out.&lt;br /&gt;Awesome, wonderful friends that I couldn't live without.&lt;br /&gt;My hard working husband that provides me with the income to have fun fixing up my yard.&lt;br /&gt;Warm flannel sheets.&lt;br /&gt;A house I love coming home to after a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;Sales and bargains.  Seriously, I've gotten some good ones lately.  Like 15 free bags of rubber mulch from the guy at home depot because he didn't want to load them back on the pallet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-9000365466752649906?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/9000365466752649906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=9000365466752649906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9000365466752649906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/9000365466752649906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/12/many-thanks.html' title='Many Thanks'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3759614743558210750</id><published>2008-11-25T17:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T17:08:09.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I heart Craiglist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;I've been scouring the internet for a swingset for our backyard.  I wanted a fun big one but didn't want to find the not so fun big price tag.  I found this one on Craiglist this weekend and jumped on it immediately.  I also found 2 guys on craigslist to disassemble it, bring to my house and reassemble it.  With the price of the swing set and the price of the installation I still paid less than half of what the swing set would have cost brand new - uninstalled.  The kids love it and keep saying "oh thank you mommy, we love you so much"  it's so wonderful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyhdy7mL_I/AAAAAAAAALo/V9N5dTuW02E/s1600-h/IMG_2348.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyhdy7mL_I/AAAAAAAAALo/V9N5dTuW02E/s320/IMG_2348.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyheM0VndI/AAAAAAAAALw/qE0KAHjh0Bw/s1600-h/IMG_2353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyheM0VndI/AAAAAAAAALw/qE0KAHjh0Bw/s320/IMG_2353.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyheM28ysI/AAAAAAAAAL4/J0wiwQCk_HM/s1600-h/IMG_2354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyheM28ysI/AAAAAAAAAL4/J0wiwQCk_HM/s320/IMG_2354.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyheHoe-iI/AAAAAAAAAMA/oZ7TgxyKW7w/s1600-h/IMG_2355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyheHoe-iI/AAAAAAAAAMA/oZ7TgxyKW7w/s320/IMG_2355.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3759614743558210750?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3759614743558210750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3759614743558210750' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3759614743558210750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3759614743558210750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-heart-craiglist.html' title='I heart Craiglist'/><author><name>Jenny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00257014935980270015</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_evV-Reas4ew/SSyhdy7mL_I/AAAAAAAAALo/V9N5dTuW02E/s72-c/IMG_2348.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468479991920754473.post-3861291259560291070</id><published>2008-11-24T04:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T04:41:46.607-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>Alright I got double tagged by both of my sisters so I guess I better participate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class="bl_itemtitle" title="Site: About US" href="http://www.robertandcari.com/Site/Blog/Entries/2008/11/23_Five_of_My_Favorite_Things...____.html" target="_blank"&gt;Five of My Favorite Things...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 TV Shows I Love to Watch:&lt;br /&gt;The Office&lt;br /&gt;Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;LOST&lt;br /&gt;That's it people, I can't even come up with 5 favorites, because I only watch 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5Favorite Restaurants:&lt;br /&gt;Mikes&lt;br /&gt;Melting Pot&lt;br /&gt;El Paso&lt;br /&gt;Chipotle&lt;br /&gt;Chick-Fa-La&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Things That Happened Yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Taught Nick's primary class at church&lt;br /&gt;Missed our friend's baby blessing&lt;br /&gt;Didn't miss the celebration dinner&lt;br /&gt;Took a nap&lt;br /&gt;Watched last week's episode of The Office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Things I Love About Fall:&lt;br /&gt;Taking the kids to the park without sweating&lt;br /&gt;Cox Farms&lt;br /&gt;School starts!&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;br /&gt;Taking the kids on hikes while the leaves are changing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5Things On My Wishlist:&lt;br /&gt;A new wardrobe&lt;br /&gt;Abs of steel&lt;br /&gt;Children who listen and obey&lt;br /&gt;An organized garage where both cars can park&lt;br /&gt;House at Lake Anna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5People I Tag:&lt;br /&gt;Jenny&lt;br /&gt;Julie M or U :)&lt;br /&gt;Laura&lt;br /&gt;Brynn&lt;br /&gt;Shalee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468479991920754473-3861291259560291070?l=2trdmoms.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/feeds/3861291259560291070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4468479991920754473&amp;postID=3861291259560291070' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3861291259560291070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468479991920754473/posts/default/3861291259560291070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2trdmoms.blogspot.com/2008/11/favorite-things.html' title='Favorite Things'/><author><name>Andrea</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
