tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54938230978554385642024-03-13T12:02:39.498-07:00The Skinny MirrorThe name of my blog needs explaining. I told my husband once, "I am thankful every day that the mirror at the gym is a skinny mirror." Meaning that it always makes you appear skinnier than you actually may be. This blog is my attempt to make you see my life as a reflection in a skinny mirror so that maybe you, and I, can see my life as a little more attractive than it actually may be. Sorry if that's confusing.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-83789037341657677452010-04-08T12:59:00.000-07:002010-04-15T09:43:11.071-07:00Do you forgive me?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVVJfP3ohD2sZCmcr7vgZ4Ek3p3qKdkXeRSO9BEwJQPZfaHJZRZ6M4SzlNt6HPaGbOKmUHz_7NgeER_RqHfFgMRQbk2tWbo6GflyPhq2_yFVEVzk1L-zgCLlyBzel2Q3qkIbWJKoX6IvA/s1600/Family+pictures+08+045.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikVVJfP3ohD2sZCmcr7vgZ4Ek3p3qKdkXeRSO9BEwJQPZfaHJZRZ6M4SzlNt6HPaGbOKmUHz_7NgeER_RqHfFgMRQbk2tWbo6GflyPhq2_yFVEVzk1L-zgCLlyBzel2Q3qkIbWJKoX6IvA/s400/Family+pictures+08+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457870159459649042" border="0" /></a><br />Friday was Trigg's birthday. He is 4. I actually had a little party for him. This is his new thing. He does something wrong, says he's sorry and says, "do you forgive me?" I don't know where he picked it up and of course I always say yes but sometimes it's harder than others.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4KFRjiS-Y1YosqEABpsDIJ2HDd0-O1R7DiuoDa0x5dw5wQCfm54-GDDeHcgsQJb3h1EHTD76-We-9Wzy3ZDmcErf7ub-51Y3aUyHQRzHVTAaZXfQwNonbCz9Sq6c4dJlZ214V5INn7Wf/s1600/july+2009+019.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4KFRjiS-Y1YosqEABpsDIJ2HDd0-O1R7DiuoDa0x5dw5wQCfm54-GDDeHcgsQJb3h1EHTD76-We-9Wzy3ZDmcErf7ub-51Y3aUyHQRzHVTAaZXfQwNonbCz9Sq6c4dJlZ214V5INn7Wf/s400/july+2009+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457867769179373218" border="0" /></a>I was washing the car with Trigg and his BFF, Addie and they were messing up my clean windows. The fastest way to have two almost-4-year-olds melt down? Tell them in your outdoor voice to "stop messing up my windows!" Then tell them you don't forgive them. It was a miss-communication, I promise!<br /><br />Stop. Do NOT yell "stop crying!" Silently thank Rebecca for letting me keep her kids for two weeks, remember the talk in General Conference about how mothers are inherently nurturing. I tell them in my indoor, motherly nurturing voice (yes, I have one), its okay, I forgive them.<br /><br />Today I was teaching him how to swim. As he is clamped around my neck in a death grip I tell him that I love him and I would never let him get hurt. He said, " that's why you always forgive me but not Addie when she messes up your windows?"<br /><br />It was a miss-communication!<br /><br />Four years with Trigg as my last, unplanned, surprise, caboose in our crazy family and yes, I finally forgive him. Some day, when he is much older, I will ask him to forgive me, for not being quite ready for 5 kids and selfishly thinking 4 would be much easier, and for sometimes thinking it still, well okay, a lot of the time.<br /><br />He is our Triggalicious, Triggster, Triggsaster, Triggnacious, Triggers, Trigganator and whatever else we can tack on to his name. He is a bright, funny, surprising, wonderful boy (even if he looks like he should be in special ed., not that there's anything wrong with that!) <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NMoORHONFBUYj_OnjP3-8ir3HfwzSiIGlHSnvkNM1VrSDrfG1N-dL1VoHnvRs7dpq23FS29vzhEtU6xMh5w4C2BEN8UYPuP9jeqFTVL15fGVrQXvAU5lqYGM7PRsPIiCJjNEg0QF2FVj/s1600/july+2009+094.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NMoORHONFBUYj_OnjP3-8ir3HfwzSiIGlHSnvkNM1VrSDrfG1N-dL1VoHnvRs7dpq23FS29vzhEtU6xMh5w4C2BEN8UYPuP9jeqFTVL15fGVrQXvAU5lqYGM7PRsPIiCJjNEg0QF2FVj/s400/july+2009+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457870171851537138" border="0" /></a>I love his hugs, his kisses, the way he sings primary songs, the way he loves to play with his cousins, the way he chooses me over Dave, even when I want him to choose Dave, how he loves his "favorite tag," I love watching the older kids with him, the way they protect him. I hate that he is 4, I want my baby back. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_cuRFE6H3YeZgIRZns0TWOptR6K4TZ2HdhD_NvZc_qvc00wIFwUhIyRx3GgUY0lxxsRWEDq4eufnGasiAhGpMMzrJgrLMljvFCVAgmYNH1YtRDMmK6kXuZGC_6Mhi8Nc4Hs4wyEl1mgtK/s1600/IMG_0116.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 360px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_cuRFE6H3YeZgIRZns0TWOptR6K4TZ2HdhD_NvZc_qvc00wIFwUhIyRx3GgUY0lxxsRWEDq4eufnGasiAhGpMMzrJgrLMljvFCVAgmYNH1YtRDMmK6kXuZGC_6Mhi8Nc4Hs4wyEl1mgtK/s400/IMG_0116.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457868473561594578" border="0" /></a> I wish I could rewind and do those 4 years over again starting with my cute tiny baby and enjoy those years all that much more knowing that I would never have them back. He is my special little buddy and I love him with all my heart. I am trying to enjoy him even more right now to make up for it. Sometimes it's harder than others...<br /><br />I know that he was always supposed to be part of our family, it just took 4 years for me to realize it. I am a little slow.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIiZc9pElGBc2x3ympf3YnXXX_btaihRLf96FklKlx_BLCO6VdlgWgf1ZKd-rbbv_5I5aHaWzxfYOrBL4qSEVsK8I88ybAZgq30CzfpPMim6vh8i8dnp7NPA0PFAqp1RTadNGKrFIf4nI/s1600/Family+pictures+08+048.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvIiZc9pElGBc2x3ympf3YnXXX_btaihRLf96FklKlx_BLCO6VdlgWgf1ZKd-rbbv_5I5aHaWzxfYOrBL4qSEVsK8I88ybAZgq30CzfpPMim6vh8i8dnp7NPA0PFAqp1RTadNGKrFIf4nI/s400/Family+pictures+08+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460149885718246498" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*most of these fab photos are courtesy of <a href="http://web.mac.com/kroffamy">Amy Kroff Photography.</a> Check her out!Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-51950297374018540832010-01-28T09:16:00.000-08:002010-01-28T09:53:54.821-08:00Note to self...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdpT94sOeKwqHQ0KlmBOQeWSwZSXs0koOjXyevTCdt_YSEEnFonG1nmldINNRrB6Ht4CIQXGNqQb2pz9VVi5js2czSgAfMFSM8YAQhAPtm8TqOtxIpVSWSKYam2zSCASOjrIqRQr_s6ih/s1600-h/2004-10-08+038.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdpT94sOeKwqHQ0KlmBOQeWSwZSXs0koOjXyevTCdt_YSEEnFonG1nmldINNRrB6Ht4CIQXGNqQb2pz9VVi5js2czSgAfMFSM8YAQhAPtm8TqOtxIpVSWSKYam2zSCASOjrIqRQr_s6ih/s400/2004-10-08+038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431842272410855554" border="0" /> (<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">here is a picture of me and my sisters after a Jimmy Eat World concert, because I hate posts without pictures. Please note the euphoric smiles. yes I am sweaty and hot and red faced and I love every minute of it!)</span></span></a><br /><br />Note to self: if your walking briskly on the canal by yourself at 7 in the morning and you do a spontaneous, adrenaline induced "dance"(picture Kevin Bacon in Footloose in that warehouse that is actually the Lehi Roller Mills in Utah, but way more spastic and uncoordinated and um...ME) to your favorite Jimmy Eat World song, thinking you are alone because no one is in front of you, beware that there might be someone that you can not hear because your headphones are on, BEHIND YOU......awkward? yea.<br /><br />Kevin Bacon in Footloose: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZF5f6faak7I&feature=fvw">this</a> is how I looked on the canal this morning, minus the smoking and drinking and you HAVE to watch this because if you picture me doing this, I promise you will LOL!Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-37305156212576925272009-11-05T09:02:00.000-08:002009-11-05T09:57:50.165-08:00November Give awayAs any of you who know me knows that my favorite necklace of all time was made by <a href="http://angelahenrie.blogspot.com/">this creative genius</a>. I know Angela not only from her one-of-a-kind handmade jewelry but also because she is the sister of one of my all time favorite people and across the street neighbor, <a href="http://kroffon.blogspot.com/">Amy Kroff</a>. Amy was wearing a necklace that was three strands, one of pearl, and one had charms attached with each of her kids names and one in the middle with herself and Paul's name. I immediately coveted this necklace and wanted it for my very own ( with my own kids names, of course, and minus Paul and Amy). What could be better than wearing a fashionable reminder of all the things most important to me? I inquired about the price and knew that it would not be mine any time soon. Not that it's not worth it, you get what you pay for. I kept seeing her necklace and I knew it would be the perfect one for me that I could wear EVERYDAY with a t-shirt or to church. I think it only took two years of hinting and a strategically placed suggestion from Amy to Dave that I finally got my necklace for my birthday, and I wear it EVERYDAY. Mostly. <br /><br />It was a sad day when we moved from our favorite neighbors. We crammed alot into those three years. We were pregnant together, had beautiful baby boys together, played outside, vented, philosophized ( I use the term very loosely), cried, laughed (well, Amy snorted) and enjoyed every minute of it. I watched Amy's love and talent of photography grow into a flourishing business. So many great things about the Kroffs. I can honestly say there wasn't one second of those three years that I ever had any negative feelings for Amy and Paul for any reason.....at all. We loved every single second. Good neighbors are so hard to come by which is why we felt so blessed to live across from them for 3 great years! We love the Kroffs. <br /><br />(Thank heavens it was BEFORE Paul became bishop, wink wink. He's still just Paul to us.)<br /><br />*Pictures to come when my camera gets backJoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-15324449498304989442009-11-02T19:50:00.000-08:002009-11-02T20:43:59.887-08:00When did my mom become Elaine?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEGDPE4LdrEUwDt7wn2j8-JWmZjdL6yQFt04FzUkhc36LEj9s4xLnIZigTjgfsNvSKF_Di2FigrAwf9idkr0pD3bIbA5KVUbxK5yRJBp-iCUphlrq_oQevkSF1cECE2xIQrLA9M3jCesl7/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEGDPE4LdrEUwDt7wn2j8-JWmZjdL6yQFt04FzUkhc36LEj9s4xLnIZigTjgfsNvSKF_Di2FigrAwf9idkr0pD3bIbA5KVUbxK5yRJBp-iCUphlrq_oQevkSF1cECE2xIQrLA9M3jCesl7/s400/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399727803744327042" border="0" /></a><br />I was in the shower today and heard someone out of the bathroom door talking to me. Now I could tell right away that it wasn't my 3 year old, Trigg because he just barges in and says what ever he wants: fruit snacks, juice box, Dora, go to Addie's to play etc.<br /><br />It was not Trigg but I did recognize the voice. I said, " What, is that you Sherry?" Thinking it might be my sister <a href="http://theclanmacnab@blogspot.com/">Sherry.</a> The mystery person answered, "no, it's Elaine." What? When did my mom become Elaine to me? When did that happen? I purposely don't call my my mother in law (as much as I love her), I don't call her mom because that is not her name to me, my mom's name is mom. It would be like calling my husband "Frank" when his name is actually Dave, (or Mr. Mantastic.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx8hTwMoOPmN8QzcGvxp1k2WT-mPdXgbMuvqE2WCJZgVzPiD9_aIqMzjd8V-piT1eGRulBDwjlixVtWTpRsBF13PbUuhPo2IwVGeHUml4tgX9ZTyJqsCXObolcqR6wGANhUYBH7G7FB2N/s1600-h/april+may+09+mom+and+trigg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx8hTwMoOPmN8QzcGvxp1k2WT-mPdXgbMuvqE2WCJZgVzPiD9_aIqMzjd8V-piT1eGRulBDwjlixVtWTpRsBF13PbUuhPo2IwVGeHUml4tgX9ZTyJqsCXObolcqR6wGANhUYBH7G7FB2N/s400/april+may+09+mom+and+trigg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399730865641820626" border="0" /></a><br />So as I finished my shower, I asked "Elaine" to wait 5 minutes until i got out, which she did. But for the rest of my shower (all 5 minutes of if it) I wondered why she identified herself as Elaine and not my mom. It was a ilittle distressing but now I am over it, kinda. I'm really not trying to make her feel bad, she is the best "Elaine" ever and always will be to me. But she is also the best mom ever and always will be to me. Even if she starts to call herself Elaine, I will always call her mom.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbVLmUOT_JIPS4ESqc_nEUz1sGoPj_TtupctZ_eKLSDDl4_gHRqvNmQ03G1RTFHKmWqpI2Hj-8bJC7Svuj039a6NoTslzo-og5D-0jq3d9lJneBztJxl_o0PpYiXYFvdfDLDUix1aPPF-/s1600-h/april+may+09+mom+and+jpy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 368px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbVLmUOT_JIPS4ESqc_nEUz1sGoPj_TtupctZ_eKLSDDl4_gHRqvNmQ03G1RTFHKmWqpI2Hj-8bJC7Svuj039a6NoTslzo-og5D-0jq3d9lJneBztJxl_o0PpYiXYFvdfDLDUix1aPPF-/s400/april+may+09+mom+and+jpy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399732492609206738" border="0" /></a>Hormonal today? Probably, probably every day. Love you Elaine.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-81379756501648643782009-08-10T22:14:00.000-07:002009-09-05T12:55:21.653-07:00Nie to the Nie<span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Ok, maybe reading the</span><a style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);" href="http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/"> Nie Nie Dialogues </a><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">is the most stereotypically mormon mom thing to do but I don't care.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Every time I am feeling sorry for myself for one trial or the other, sitting at my computer in my pajamas feeling sorry for myself for one thing or another, all I have to do is read her blog, any post will usually do. Immediately I feel guilty, inspired and incredibly moved all at once.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">When I first started reading her blog, I would find myself driving down the road, thinking about how I really shouldn't have eaten all those cookies after lunch or how I am really sick of all the running around I have to do or do I really have to make dinner again tonight? Suddenly all I have to do is think: guess what? I have all my own skin, and all my hair and I </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">can</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> make dinner tonight. I can get in and out of bed without any help ( even if I'd rather never get out). I look in the mirror and even if my body is a couple of pounds heavier than I like (ok, more like 20) at least it's my body, and I have control over how it looks and how I feel.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">The trials I have that seem so colossal to me are almost laughable compared to hers, and I'm sure so many others, that all I need to do is try a little perpesctive. My very worst day, can't even be compared to what she has been going through EVERY DAY. I can relate to what I believe her life was like before the accident. The ups and downs of being a mom with 4 small children, being married to a husband who you absolutely adore, trying to be the best person you can be and sometimes falling short. I can't help feeling like, why did she have to go through this and feeling horribly guilty that I am so relieved that I didn't.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Any time I relay the insights or epiphanies or laughs I get from reading her blog to my husband he says, "do you even know this person?" No, I don't </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">know</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> her. That is, I've never met her. But I do feel like I </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">know </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">her. I know her as well as anyone who has read all of her blog posts, past and present, and followed the lives of her sisters and children going on through life while she slept.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Every time I read of the simple mom things that moms do that she didn't get to do for so long its like a giant wake up call to do those things, all of them, and not try and pawn them off on my husband because I am sick of doing them every day. Reading books, working in the kids class rooms, T-ball games, family vacations, skip-bo games, walks in the sunshine, pinewood derby, birthday parties, even enduring the unbearable heat that never seems to end in Arizona. Sadly, I still hate making dinner, even if I am grateful that I</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"> can </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">make it.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Stereotypical or not, I check her blog everyday and it's not always life altering but somedays it is just what I need to change my attitude and perspective. Now in the interest of time saving, I try to limit my blog surfing to family members and very close friends....and Nie Nie, who I have never met in my life. But it would be really cool if I did. Well, I guess I also read </span><a style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);" href="http://seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com/">Seriously So Blessed</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">, but that is a wake up call of a different kind.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Sorry no pics, I hate posts with no pics! Here is a super awesome picture of me and Dave at Prom. </span><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisF7pW06m3hi62W0ilzRvjK90jBRLz9OZFq3RDe3cx3lSTfTiYM3PrsSDLNv3tr4UhHvZXmWx-MVp6CEBqCs_NQEyITs34S-vppNOEd4iZTTqc0Y5qa6JiBe5HAd_uRhKDpiWSNhgLxJqm/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisF7pW06m3hi62W0ilzRvjK90jBRLz9OZFq3RDe3cx3lSTfTiYM3PrsSDLNv3tr4UhHvZXmWx-MVp6CEBqCs_NQEyITs34S-vppNOEd4iZTTqc0Y5qa6JiBe5HAd_uRhKDpiWSNhgLxJqm/s400/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376946018587650530" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Check out the sleeves on that dress. What. Was. I. Thinking?!?!<br /><br />This post came out today. Case in point: <a href="http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/2009/09/my-perfect-life.html">My Perfect Life</a><br /></span>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-79203560138182747472009-07-23T19:39:00.001-07:002009-07-24T10:22:58.352-07:00Happy birthday Janee!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS143csZZ7DVdMnhY7wi4Ue4tPyJHFqq0o5J8qx0zZDIJufulBBgjWUrdimefq536GTxmUk0DrYJO6ogB4ADV57qrwvTZe2KjuCciFVEkV2fGj5fRso_3kC9CKWLYQvc_E1XErZhm4m8AU/s1600-h/Family+pictures+08+054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS143csZZ7DVdMnhY7wi4Ue4tPyJHFqq0o5J8qx0zZDIJufulBBgjWUrdimefq536GTxmUk0DrYJO6ogB4ADV57qrwvTZe2KjuCciFVEkV2fGj5fRso_3kC9CKWLYQvc_E1XErZhm4m8AU/s400/Family+pictures+08+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361863514803886690" border="0" /></a>Sadly, this will be a short post. I am bad at capturing timeless moments on my camera. In fact, she's lucky I got any at all. She wanted cheesecakes which if you've ever tried to make my mom's recipe, you know it is tricky. So I left it to the expert and made Jannalee make them for me. I did make the crusts though. Boy were they delicious, thanks Jan. Unfortunately, Janee had a really bad case of strep throat so we had to save them for her. She also was lucky enough to have her birthday fall on Father's day which she thought was really cool. No pictures of that because I was STRICTLY forbidden to get ANYTHING for Dave. I did make a really nice dinner though if I do say so myself. I had to take care of Greg that day too since Bek was in Utah. That's ok though, he's one of my favorite dads too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9BnuZRvd3y37AWE8z1Wn4De3nRM_hmqBWernqLCG5kTxgINAxbxglu8WWyIVgpf867zB1RLMul7Ka1YGpYN9L3TO6gZ_Nq788GZa7lDcGyqdTCbo2VQdi17osAZJ9f5c-vFZqG8ny9AB/s1600-h/july+2009+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH9BnuZRvd3y37AWE8z1Wn4De3nRM_hmqBWernqLCG5kTxgINAxbxglu8WWyIVgpf867zB1RLMul7Ka1YGpYN9L3TO6gZ_Nq788GZa7lDcGyqdTCbo2VQdi17osAZJ9f5c-vFZqG8ny9AB/s400/july+2009+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361858629817382354" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5wpo5wPNMEJ4lCVfJUL6igof0BfJ3QZPcfulGYS2eD5T_PgGAHLG6F9OWgAwnNC6B2tzlZeSSuf1RsVb5PI0gxzj2HgDDIhSga7dxxu9CghPsSLJBGQhP29Qta2r4z3WK189_6IF0gU_/s1600-h/july+2009+002.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5wpo5wPNMEJ4lCVfJUL6igof0BfJ3QZPcfulGYS2eD5T_PgGAHLG6F9OWgAwnNC6B2tzlZeSSuf1RsVb5PI0gxzj2HgDDIhSga7dxxu9CghPsSLJBGQhP29Qta2r4z3WK189_6IF0gU_/s400/july+2009+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361852821979644994" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVndksg847lWJ5DwHtnnEPs1kKeHxLuz0fAdZ5yqZvus4FQHZYtYaBH3isEQlzQge6K3t_1zD6196B7YLXaBTiiOZsZ6AtnDPSYe4IOjTfLJO3jb08U15GVU5udd7iQExvu3jV3Rq1DK8/s1600-h/100_0368.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVndksg847lWJ5DwHtnnEPs1kKeHxLuz0fAdZ5yqZvus4FQHZYtYaBH3isEQlzQge6K3t_1zD6196B7YLXaBTiiOZsZ6AtnDPSYe4IOjTfLJO3jb08U15GVU5udd7iQExvu3jV3Rq1DK8/s400/100_0368.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361865229983473058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFYd6_KWHHiwb0hDLKLHOaoz9leUFeczvirXCdt_Wp4Am3pequS4Fd4FvcXsPg2o0XHqZz2RIb3IvWDligRJ4IhjgIMWe8siFKtszXaSrzJ-lNHqkLNAstt8XHdSABzPFR8XmA2IDW26k/s1600-h/100_0367.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFYd6_KWHHiwb0hDLKLHOaoz9leUFeczvirXCdt_Wp4Am3pequS4Fd4FvcXsPg2o0XHqZz2RIb3IvWDligRJ4IhjgIMWe8siFKtszXaSrzJ-lNHqkLNAstt8XHdSABzPFR8XmA2IDW26k/s400/100_0367.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361864937464839938" border="0" /></a><br />Some of her presents were tickets to see Wicked with her mom and Gramma, a Nintendo DS (secretly handed down from her brother) and some fun games. She also has a cute necklace waiting to be made by her aunt Rebecca. I gave her a pack of classic books that I think every little girl should have, Gramma Proffitt gave her the book Heidi and tapes with Gramma reading it to her. Gramma Dunyon gave her an adorable dress for church which she loves. She is getting harder to buy dresses for since I want to put her in ruffles and lace and she isn't really going for that anymore. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNh_lFCO4xfopnuDPx814LP7ARfsJ7gYwIUXzo-nxaC4vrOcQkmw4uOWAn1vbphVvd0DwkdSQdfWZtHzpp5cTFOgQIzm4KGme3Obvd21YhPhftHJ17tsneHh_Jpz8lGJnPPz7RNABaLY6/s1600-h/100_0370.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNh_lFCO4xfopnuDPx814LP7ARfsJ7gYwIUXzo-nxaC4vrOcQkmw4uOWAn1vbphVvd0DwkdSQdfWZtHzpp5cTFOgQIzm4KGme3Obvd21YhPhftHJ17tsneHh_Jpz8lGJnPPz7RNABaLY6/s400/100_0370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361864505308873458" border="0" /></a> It's really sad. Anyway, my baby girl is 9 and I love her more and more each year. Selfishly, I am glad I only have one girl but if I could give her anything just for her, it would be a load of fabulous sisters just like my own. I don't know what I would do without them. Luckily, she has some pretty fabulous cousins which I hope will serve the same purpose. Love you Janes!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqjdY77dU3k52JjFiOI6Rv7b3P8uJaYqn3W4voRDEFF1QsOdgeI8jtHRTTgFeX3BRCUslRTsMkXyq-gaCkLrgIlLVLepyOqvPbmClcbEPdFlXt1qHfN6tOKmyIeS6Dqdh4ZNtGKVrGqXMI/s1600-h/2004-08-07+021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqjdY77dU3k52JjFiOI6Rv7b3P8uJaYqn3W4voRDEFF1QsOdgeI8jtHRTTgFeX3BRCUslRTsMkXyq-gaCkLrgIlLVLepyOqvPbmClcbEPdFlXt1qHfN6tOKmyIeS6Dqdh4ZNtGKVrGqXMI/s400/2004-08-07+021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362076818237258322" border="0" /></a>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-80755037416182217012009-06-14T01:17:00.000-07:002009-06-14T13:03:46.395-07:00Guest Appearances at the Beach Houses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgME5RT-Zy8olRxd0xfos-_aislmp5CdsSdNwzGjG4TfvF_5J4Rfv8JhA3km5P_gICb1DDbFz0klAbwl-68X_vfld4si6qbsjbGxnJlz4jOagj7bBYBAg7cgkCVWO2v5N4UL306iD8ADaXO/s1600-h/april+may+09+054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgME5RT-Zy8olRxd0xfos-_aislmp5CdsSdNwzGjG4TfvF_5J4Rfv8JhA3km5P_gICb1DDbFz0klAbwl-68X_vfld4si6qbsjbGxnJlz4jOagj7bBYBAg7cgkCVWO2v5N4UL306iD8ADaXO/s400/april+may+09+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347105745032289602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We had so much fun visiting with all the family that rotated through the beach houses. Mostly Beks but I got Mom and Callie sometimes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVz6KroJKQ73JQQ-7F54qsLexEQzTBDvoGFsU1ZQLFn6SWEk6MdJviEOvwHEOhflDV_DTXHa1mfxiKLnW-m-5f5ziD1TfGX8MgPryaGIxemNTV2AUpTetqMndciqG9gNy2pAJsSXsU96NF/s1600-h/SDC11194.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVz6KroJKQ73JQQ-7F54qsLexEQzTBDvoGFsU1ZQLFn6SWEk6MdJviEOvwHEOhflDV_DTXHa1mfxiKLnW-m-5f5ziD1TfGX8MgPryaGIxemNTV2AUpTetqMndciqG9gNy2pAJsSXsU96NF/s400/SDC11194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101864413437922" border="0" /></a>Mama ginger came and stayed with a friend for a couple of days and then came to Beks house and made us all manner of boiled peanuts......delish!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ2bGQEol1Z0Q_ce9iiF5fZBjRO9hYgCFeDrYFNFnkNlKEEFQ3U25T1UlGfS1Jx5ILDu9rF__I896L9N9LqjbojVSn_PzKZOHJANb_yWULfqpf620PNuPLkXz5KlqYq3A7tPc1hYcjLIn5/s1600-h/DSCN1418.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ2bGQEol1Z0Q_ce9iiF5fZBjRO9hYgCFeDrYFNFnkNlKEEFQ3U25T1UlGfS1Jx5ILDu9rF__I896L9N9LqjbojVSn_PzKZOHJANb_yWULfqpf620PNuPLkXz5KlqYq3A7tPc1hYcjLIn5/s400/DSCN1418.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347104626736055890" border="0" /></a>After several days of coaxing and cajoling, we talked Cassie into braving a 12 hour car ride with a 3 month old and a 2yr old who apparently gets car sick after a while. Way to tuff it out Cass! You are die hard! I loved loved loved seein the girls!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GC0EPePjSJz2e8EIHpJmuXFsCV1CoHN88ilNb2p91ETYSpfsc-jPTQGxUxFD_WRbK0PTem_kfGiXRTiRCZQeyMFhKVrRdcaBpiZarQa2fV65uA-ZBS_jXDE3uQpUyHWlwCsWVlVQXktf/s1600-h/DSCN1414.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GC0EPePjSJz2e8EIHpJmuXFsCV1CoHN88ilNb2p91ETYSpfsc-jPTQGxUxFD_WRbK0PTem_kfGiXRTiRCZQeyMFhKVrRdcaBpiZarQa2fV65uA-ZBS_jXDE3uQpUyHWlwCsWVlVQXktf/s400/DSCN1414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347104629606610402" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiE6uggQgE_LM2xqZ0gLkY7nop1wdu0BIU00ErqWg-WiQk0bQRyOyZXSQNACCQCpzfUWgQfnDzYz1brEbpsjj1bG6N3snUNfY45hEbktO2N8mGCOkD4DrkE5VXGcHW8AsXMYMsAOVcyaY/s1600-h/DSCN1438.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiE6uggQgE_LM2xqZ0gLkY7nop1wdu0BIU00ErqWg-WiQk0bQRyOyZXSQNACCQCpzfUWgQfnDzYz1brEbpsjj1bG6N3snUNfY45hEbktO2N8mGCOkD4DrkE5VXGcHW8AsXMYMsAOVcyaY/s400/DSCN1438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347104620687922354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DtWzAiGX69HcpOAHCw3ljfEtEH11Jc46rxIDektTG0W1Nc01vwcXBtbqvfJMhnLpx8sjNmByAJi1HPxdAqH0qG1aSbkJcaBZsjhjIK0Ke_fOZSYmJHDcs2uCAOyS4hUU2tng1sbZIHuf/s1600-h/_DSC0001_1555.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DtWzAiGX69HcpOAHCw3ljfEtEH11Jc46rxIDektTG0W1Nc01vwcXBtbqvfJMhnLpx8sjNmByAJi1HPxdAqH0qG1aSbkJcaBZsjhjIK0Ke_fOZSYmJHDcs2uCAOyS4hUU2tng1sbZIHuf/s400/_DSC0001_1555.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101858781076450" border="0" /></a>Jannalee came with just Zanya and Samantha or as Trigg calls them "Zammy"<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5K2-7gooNVElfxhd6ZzKxvR4jNJT42DrRdQklfqXAHMCczNShyphenhyphencQRoW6YQmDeGjy5aTivJi2PCDQB3TJO8Z1xvxkDqAPzjs99sgx1P_ARwzPWFIUDcFTCqeXmX_XSxr8QszwuI9YWTlX/s1600-h/5-10-11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5K2-7gooNVElfxhd6ZzKxvR4jNJT42DrRdQklfqXAHMCczNShyphenhyphencQRoW6YQmDeGjy5aTivJi2PCDQB3TJO8Z1xvxkDqAPzjs99sgx1P_ARwzPWFIUDcFTCqeXmX_XSxr8QszwuI9YWTlX/s400/5-10-11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101645202138226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhHCwgVNVPLxWhMByJHCifn14Y4JDlGNnaSbcO3mOrlZZ2sAj9QHEly-gB1Rn9mGqazKLA39fyBs3_q0c4QOIOEGRVgPyQTJYSAA8G59vLOb7-K6f6a3nH-Ddo9DnG83cq5pkGrqQZUKe/s1600-h/5-10-09+Calif.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhHCwgVNVPLxWhMByJHCifn14Y4JDlGNnaSbcO3mOrlZZ2sAj9QHEly-gB1Rn9mGqazKLA39fyBs3_q0c4QOIOEGRVgPyQTJYSAA8G59vLOb7-K6f6a3nH-Ddo9DnG83cq5pkGrqQZUKe/s400/5-10-09+Calif.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101645606243538" border="0" /></a>Clark and Margs and there cutest little family!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9b_kk65oEVXpWJrSJ8r6nNqsugV3LguZ8SB35_osZ2wXTOg7SYuOSzC0OvlVI8fFS1G2jpnIWYTHkq2w2aCqi2saAXIDeJqdV2K4cl3VIJlHsA0r3MjwpDiifzceIC1oKhlQZcTzygtK/s1600-h/FamilyattheZoo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9b_kk65oEVXpWJrSJ8r6nNqsugV3LguZ8SB35_osZ2wXTOg7SYuOSzC0OvlVI8fFS1G2jpnIWYTHkq2w2aCqi2saAXIDeJqdV2K4cl3VIJlHsA0r3MjwpDiifzceIC1oKhlQZcTzygtK/s400/FamilyattheZoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101640913880594" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qN54O9TkW9gfH5SJK3c6Z5OqcZ_TbTwgX1EUIx8O7CmWG-FjURxWldmZpC-6BHMIcYp9fWp0GG8AJfjfmm7VVuB6PHEmKlsCoMrnhmoQrzB-JJJilNvzK04tEbxK33uDS4L9-nGL4Is4/s1600-h/_DSC0025_1579.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9qN54O9TkW9gfH5SJK3c6Z5OqcZ_TbTwgX1EUIx8O7CmWG-FjURxWldmZpC-6BHMIcYp9fWp0GG8AJfjfmm7VVuB6PHEmKlsCoMrnhmoQrzB-JJJilNvzK04tEbxK33uDS4L9-nGL4Is4/s400/_DSC0025_1579.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101637600849346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCvTSEh66kh3p4NulRqZecvmf08ikUffMMfbiULmOtImaNJwc1tEOPjRRSBcL2aVKymyY1BYDunwrnV8J7mW7F4-gwtWlBhImomrHcRPX49RUOBOsbqGBwyaozR58uweVacxK41Pbxv0n/s1600-h/_DSC0008_1562.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrCvTSEh66kh3p4NulRqZecvmf08ikUffMMfbiULmOtImaNJwc1tEOPjRRSBcL2aVKymyY1BYDunwrnV8J7mW7F4-gwtWlBhImomrHcRPX49RUOBOsbqGBwyaozR58uweVacxK41Pbxv0n/s400/_DSC0008_1562.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101631326037010" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Sherry, Wendall and all of their kids. This one is my favorite. Love the little queenie!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklH31OUxPalihWOVuNXx1D936-3uHyAnIGKCyaxfmYkWtGz06T_ixbG8uMZ6rJG4iLPmBrD87YCjGGMYmF-pX3fYvzNCszYqo1dz_xX6t6nuZtSoRn0IXdV6L-bTKwXscD5G4ZeqMRhcz/s1600-h/SDC11566.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklH31OUxPalihWOVuNXx1D936-3uHyAnIGKCyaxfmYkWtGz06T_ixbG8uMZ6rJG4iLPmBrD87YCjGGMYmF-pX3fYvzNCszYqo1dz_xX6t6nuZtSoRn0IXdV6L-bTKwXscD5G4ZeqMRhcz/s400/SDC11566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347095376841530354" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGcaRYtFWW0-_pPLmF6kFlTfBwQR_PR4g4aKq2inQ4ezdjQT4up4wPR_ZuIf9roWkUHzOl23qxZ5PwPClGo3kEVJrEsJPald_50DtfrCFw-Fh6HcIS6-BAP2a6AThXH7GcD8K-wS9dP06t/s1600-h/april+may+09+098.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGcaRYtFWW0-_pPLmF6kFlTfBwQR_PR4g4aKq2inQ4ezdjQT4up4wPR_ZuIf9roWkUHzOl23qxZ5PwPClGo3kEVJrEsJPald_50DtfrCFw-Fh6HcIS6-BAP2a6AThXH7GcD8K-wS9dP06t/s400/april+may+09+098.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347108705568261986" border="0" /></a><br />We had my sister in law Sarah and Austin come on Memorial day with Dennis and Chris.<br />They also came to visit with Brooke, Aaron, Emma and Heidi but we have no pictures of that day, it was too cold!<br /><br />Last but not least, we had Spencer and Zephyr come visit which was a personal treat to be able to let Trigg have so much fun playing in the waves with Zephyr. I enjoyed watching so much that I completely ignored my camera. I am trying to get pictures from Spence. So much fun having my brothers come!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5k6q2EyxdKrBPfazJ82vYLPEtihXgBnGa5VywNLbUVAEVz3hCQlbACAuLyRV3DmL6_Hf9x3SlT1apR90AaYozqKvCAIJ6WOJzWZDyc_H-cCSGSBbvgULWb-1o6A0GDwXB9jjCpS3dh3ni/s1600-h/Z&T3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5k6q2EyxdKrBPfazJ82vYLPEtihXgBnGa5VywNLbUVAEVz3hCQlbACAuLyRV3DmL6_Hf9x3SlT1apR90AaYozqKvCAIJ6WOJzWZDyc_H-cCSGSBbvgULWb-1o6A0GDwXB9jjCpS3dh3ni/s400/Z&T3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347275437968260034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9H2r7aVmFZZbOD0i7MiyTrOxKh6PO6t-Zktd0Xh86YSH3QgV5h-zaB7SBbVGqN1_l7FolsWtWUcYR79XZ6JjBl5qjXzBr1wd3aTnyvW0YRIkhcayRIQ9YWhoFPlHJIqgyCJJrHN0G2l2/s1600-h/Z&T1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9H2r7aVmFZZbOD0i7MiyTrOxKh6PO6t-Zktd0Xh86YSH3QgV5h-zaB7SBbVGqN1_l7FolsWtWUcYR79XZ6JjBl5qjXzBr1wd3aTnyvW0YRIkhcayRIQ9YWhoFPlHJIqgyCJJrHN0G2l2/s400/Z&T1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347275448061884562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_1HMDfRWLAInsN0-7xhzpmgT2Pu29syrvKrPJPd137dw11GpmMkLd6_ajY_hDGZ0iSxJyvuFY938IJaJ2w6S9y2wasxOBOyW9QXDoojAugN0oDn6yiYCea9WZk9nvxzoyrqfUeMyBauf/s1600-h/Z&T4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_1HMDfRWLAInsN0-7xhzpmgT2Pu29syrvKrPJPd137dw11GpmMkLd6_ajY_hDGZ0iSxJyvuFY938IJaJ2w6S9y2wasxOBOyW9QXDoojAugN0oDn6yiYCea9WZk9nvxzoyrqfUeMyBauf/s400/Z&T4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347275444188006082" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaDcOfBFFdUaJK4ZBV2xinysR5ZC99OrWZ5hr-k2I39i5O9OxN0NpKAsrVvwU8fdUMRogb6ZJ2KPXUtCNy_X2PMHJzsXFArNwEV4EEJvKWMSArH7WeFMtFrv8S-mtvaBXMUntusdRf6HB/s1600-h/Z&T2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaDcOfBFFdUaJK4ZBV2xinysR5ZC99OrWZ5hr-k2I39i5O9OxN0NpKAsrVvwU8fdUMRogb6ZJ2KPXUtCNy_X2PMHJzsXFArNwEV4EEJvKWMSArH7WeFMtFrv8S-mtvaBXMUntusdRf6HB/s400/Z&T2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347275444948927666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6GwtHKzC_WvCadOOnd82UxoTmVIgRI-yG7I1jkbDbB_rNWDgMpc25Www3HBGnseYah7ELGyRUJvW9qOYZp6n5qVrI9esKP5WTYsCsoaYsDZYq8nPLQdY_q6TKofxzFqc7RWThmSHQH3v/s1600-h/_DSC0013_1567-3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX6GwtHKzC_WvCadOOnd82UxoTmVIgRI-yG7I1jkbDbB_rNWDgMpc25Www3HBGnseYah7ELGyRUJvW9qOYZp6n5qVrI9esKP5WTYsCsoaYsDZYq8nPLQdY_q6TKofxzFqc7RWThmSHQH3v/s400/_DSC0013_1567-3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347101863947169474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Coming Soon: Strawberry Fields Forever!<br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-13.jpg" alt="" />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-68625211117848181172009-06-14T00:20:00.000-07:002009-06-14T00:38:45.896-07:00I want to be More.....and less<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUyWvRMvgtufBUrxIy36L5cdp2wZcWTH2UIplX-qEw9h4qEVXW4tU_N8KFcYj19C-k1oOeF76eZdw8EJXNmO8gQMdqpTdCjONbZfPAXNhUMnPu9c1GD1W0pmuO74X6ypod86J0GTrzSjV/s1600-h/D1426~Cooking-and-Cleaning-Posters.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdUyWvRMvgtufBUrxIy36L5cdp2wZcWTH2UIplX-qEw9h4qEVXW4tU_N8KFcYj19C-k1oOeF76eZdw8EJXNmO8gQMdqpTdCjONbZfPAXNhUMnPu9c1GD1W0pmuO74X6ypod86J0GTrzSjV/s400/D1426~Cooking-and-Cleaning-Posters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347083779608846786" border="0" /></a><br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-12.jpg" alt="" />I want to be.....<br />(not in any particular order)<br /><br />more mother<br />more wife<br />more sister<br />more daughter<br />more daughter in law<br />more grand daughter<br />more visiting teacher<br />more latter day saint<br />more assistant webelos leader<br />more friend<br />more P90X<br />more citizen<br />more girl<br />more student<br />more neighbor<br />more aunt<br />more teacher<br />more widget completer<br />more dancer<br />more creator<br />more inspiring<br />more blogger<br />more leader<br />more homemaker<br />more problem solver<br />more baker<br />more sister in law<br />more companion<br />more missionary<br />more listener<br />more talker<br /><br /><br /><br />I want to be .......<br /><br />LESS ME!!<br /><br />Why is that so hard?Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-13069472627286383032009-06-08T10:53:00.000-07:002009-06-14T01:17:13.640-07:00Beach House '09<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUv_MnK3gUNBLdlhJYNFrxQH4c2bY4mAta-ViZtch_B5em5P0dyWtSPPx9bcumqXK_N-U9lTpzA7-RCdgHCuPRndf_-O68abJ_gg7APoNHbW4E8vwUJ7JuuhUrPeQ-lXVXa-NVNvyh9iUe/s1600-h/april+may+09+112.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUv_MnK3gUNBLdlhJYNFrxQH4c2bY4mAta-ViZtch_B5em5P0dyWtSPPx9bcumqXK_N-U9lTpzA7-RCdgHCuPRndf_-O68abJ_gg7APoNHbW4E8vwUJ7JuuhUrPeQ-lXVXa-NVNvyh9iUe/s400/april+may+09+112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345019379127421954" border="0" /></a><br />Ahhhhhh, the beach house. Even as I sit here blogging about it I get teary-eyed that I am not still there. As many pictures as I took, there are thousands more I wish I would have taken to catch all the great memories from that month. For the whole month of May, Dave "let" me get a whole beach house to myself, well, and the kids, oh and my mom too. The kids alternated between school and the beach for the month of May and Dave made it for most of the weekends and the whole last week. My sister Rebecca had one just up the street and our friends, the Johnsons, had one a couple houses from them. What can I say, a dream come true for all involved, except for maybe Dave who has to stay home by himself and work for most of the month. I didn't get picturess of some of the best things about the beach house, since I was too busy enjoying them all, but don't worry, they will definately get an honorable mention.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPz-vbHnA1q0nCffEboJlybh7V6D10H42yJYQ6v1Mmfei8mMAMfZBBml5EcS0eswsY2ul0QdXM7KEuhC2LIlDbqO3v1Y2w4x8CivZ22zHviNOBVEaqe-QQsZrCDOk8C6imQxpWyianXTu9/s1600-h/april+may+09+114.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPz-vbHnA1q0nCffEboJlybh7V6D10H42yJYQ6v1Mmfei8mMAMfZBBml5EcS0eswsY2ul0QdXM7KEuhC2LIlDbqO3v1Y2w4x8CivZ22zHviNOBVEaqe-QQsZrCDOk8C6imQxpWyianXTu9/s400/april+may+09+114.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345019375417856210" border="0" /></a><br />Here is our humble little "Beach Cottage". That is what the plaque says under the light. This was taken just after church as I actually had the foresight to take a photo of it. I love it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BYxbryftjavbV9zNTSa3UP_9rkVfEu_U-qSuZR1s75DSNPDflJDA81QqKeYyBMRgH-7UeXaa-2lk-BHCaR7p4hKTE0w4wMYveGH2hZCQDXI3ZfMfHFTjNX6aVSEObQWHf_hZYTfCAb5m/s1600-h/april+may+09+065.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BYxbryftjavbV9zNTSa3UP_9rkVfEu_U-qSuZR1s75DSNPDflJDA81QqKeYyBMRgH-7UeXaa-2lk-BHCaR7p4hKTE0w4wMYveGH2hZCQDXI3ZfMfHFTjNX6aVSEObQWHf_hZYTfCAb5m/s400/april+may+09+065.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345019371191415154" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9K2tAfUc2pKvsxcDTt1o9mPT_4udxebH1xfS0LHa24Cvkud7POY7ca9XAQn3vlwssoZenDwv5THYO32WAbkRkCORIcI6CZFaldSA2pWGYfFeIUnFAGUiRmSV5XEsebF3wRJZOqMx6Dvl/s1600-h/april+may+09+053.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9K2tAfUc2pKvsxcDTt1o9mPT_4udxebH1xfS0LHa24Cvkud7POY7ca9XAQn3vlwssoZenDwv5THYO32WAbkRkCORIcI6CZFaldSA2pWGYfFeIUnFAGUiRmSV5XEsebF3wRJZOqMx6Dvl/s400/april+may+09+053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345019368653993250" border="0" /></a>This table alternately had puzzles and laptops on it consistently depending on who was there for the week. My mom and I prefer the puzzles, everyone else....laptops.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRMmBIkSYNg5Jo-9h-CPcu_dsdma9bKQVHv2aBCbulTYhr8NXeLBJWJI05yj6WF0qSnk8kpqpGi7VVRjhRb7dAugKztfaZNW__lbFsfw8OhZ17nOZKsrLeUFyYXdQ3mCkPYZxnzs7zuAh/s1600-h/april+may+09+054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRMmBIkSYNg5Jo-9h-CPcu_dsdma9bKQVHv2aBCbulTYhr8NXeLBJWJI05yj6WF0qSnk8kpqpGi7VVRjhRb7dAugKztfaZNW__lbFsfw8OhZ17nOZKsrLeUFyYXdQ3mCkPYZxnzs7zuAh/s400/april+may+09+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345019362955274930" border="0" /></a>My mom and Callie and Trigg on the short walk from my house to the Johnsons for S'more night.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-8vSsD9aSQwp6qkAwBzp1gcYSZcoypYGf1rHAVydWe23XmVN5M4m1jJxVOkN6qJBnymByDx98R0AgbORvSVDB5I_BlOh8TGeZ6BI7S-47aQ6VWcdsY_zHYnPf8meh4JfYpPP8IoI0Ouq/s1600-h/april+may+09+107.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-8vSsD9aSQwp6qkAwBzp1gcYSZcoypYGf1rHAVydWe23XmVN5M4m1jJxVOkN6qJBnymByDx98R0AgbORvSVDB5I_BlOh8TGeZ6BI7S-47aQ6VWcdsY_zHYnPf8meh4JfYpPP8IoI0Ouq/s400/april+may+09+107.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345018696989693442" border="0" /></a>Sand Castles!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvZwlVJr15qsbno-tZBPg6I0I9Y9YV6GYmvhBrgaVicM2xYhNCbge2d_9GcEvrGYGE89KkS9MhCzw_NkYCZdNRWcoQdqfSHM6k8Q0I9H_Bme5g45sPNid6Hb_3QJb1n3dRJNixtPAhAIP/s1600-h/april+may+09+111.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHvZwlVJr15qsbno-tZBPg6I0I9Y9YV6GYmvhBrgaVicM2xYhNCbge2d_9GcEvrGYGE89KkS9MhCzw_NkYCZdNRWcoQdqfSHM6k8Q0I9H_Bme5g45sPNid6Hb_3QJb1n3dRJNixtPAhAIP/s400/april+may+09+111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345018691669257426" border="0" /></a>Chez Kylee and Kinsey complete with a K inscribed on each sand mold. They got 2nd prize because theres had some serious style and class but the big pit in the middle of the city did pose a few problems for the sand town. Two scoops of Thrifty ice cream.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6JFGIgD2-_-eE4dVUyhrxyBamto8d0FwR-XwNVgdu9OGBGwUVDleH9ByCIlLpnCp3VswZMDdKPl7JTpikdDEsX1aFshvazqnIuvFJ9A4DWrLb_W6b-9POl6wUzPdkntjCi1ajX8fhsnyX/s1600-h/april+may+09+108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6JFGIgD2-_-eE4dVUyhrxyBamto8d0FwR-XwNVgdu9OGBGwUVDleH9ByCIlLpnCp3VswZMDdKPl7JTpikdDEsX1aFshvazqnIuvFJ9A4DWrLb_W6b-9POl6wUzPdkntjCi1ajX8fhsnyX/s400/april+may+09+108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345018687379273682" border="0" /></a>The fortress of doom bulit by the boys. They won the first prize for function which was defending the sand town from sand bad guys. They got 3 scoops of Thrifty ice cream but Tate only go two for poor sportsmanship. He's a smack talker, nobody likes smack talk, Tate.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnufSOc1u32Ybr90AcPJQNdmtsILiKNgnOqEnSQNgdyiGzz4u9REUMeob2r6H8xRqD_tT3-Qk_XGBIJs8q4AfkUNw9synxuBl0r9ypGioGqsPCx0j42I8fEsM4fntqTlgveoHD1Vt1sC7F/s1600-h/april+may+09+094.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnufSOc1u32Ybr90AcPJQNdmtsILiKNgnOqEnSQNgdyiGzz4u9REUMeob2r6H8xRqD_tT3-Qk_XGBIJs8q4AfkUNw9synxuBl0r9ypGioGqsPCx0j42I8fEsM4fntqTlgveoHD1Vt1sC7F/s400/april+may+09+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345018682520890818" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3RAD8VwQQOAI87HQSFRBM9-xf2eQAtBJusZoSTUyvPaYx-VVEdnxKq71NlpOmHpxV_RcIkKIFuk7Cc899ohmZCwItQx2Y7tGis7JXbszDbgW769Gap5cgkFyVwr_B36TBxyPHlDP62-0/s1600-h/april+may+09+063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz3RAD8VwQQOAI87HQSFRBM9-xf2eQAtBJusZoSTUyvPaYx-VVEdnxKq71NlpOmHpxV_RcIkKIFuk7Cc899ohmZCwItQx2Y7tGis7JXbszDbgW769Gap5cgkFyVwr_B36TBxyPHlDP62-0/s400/april+may+09+063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345018679529306274" border="0" /></a>These are our Beach house BFFs the Johnsons. For the whole month, these guys are like family for us and we wouldn't have it any ohter way. Girls and kids during the week so we can be moms, all the husbands come up together on the week ends so they can be the moms and the girls can be the wives....after all the kids are in bed. This is a serioulsy fun family that we just can't spend enough time with. This is S'more time at their place. This fabulous fam taught us to put strawberries on our S'mores...delish! We taught them how to roast and eat starbursts at the fire. This is how our communication goes:<br /><br />Kristina: are we running or p90X today? Lets get goin, I've been up since 5:30 with Peyton.<br /><br />Bek: ok, meet at my house at 8:15<br /><br />Joy: I really don't want to be awake yet, can't we sleep in today.<br /><br />NO<br /><br />Bek: Do we want to do bathroom burrirtos this morning or walk to get donuts?<br /><br />Kristina: Lets do donuts so we can do bathroom burritoes with the boys.<br /><br />Joy: Mmmmmm ...donuts!<br /><br />Bek:who needs a soda?<br /><br />Joy and Kristina: I do, meet you out front.<br /><br />Bek: Whose sand are we sitting at today? Where is the sun?!<br /><br />Kristina: working on hair flowers for the girls tonite if anyone wants to come.<br /><br />Joy and Bek: of course we want to come!<br /><br />Communication between husbands:<br /><br />Joel: you guys wanna play games with us so we can whip your trash?<br /><br />Greg: Maybe, what kind of treats will you have?<br /><br />Joel: The treats are only for the winners so you cant have any cuz me and Kristina are gonna totally beat you and the Dun-unyons.<br /><br />Dave: I'd love to play games but Joy gets kind of scary when she plays so she might just watch. That's some serious smack talk Joel. Nobody likes smack talk, but we do like Dr Pepper so as long as there's plenty of DP, we're in.<br /><br />Something like that...those boys text more than we do.<br />They even sat out on the beach with us on our last day even though it was FREEZING cold .<br />We suffer serious Johnson withdrawals for weeks after we come home.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbebLfj-e4gmEMx30At4zbOWBtxECxVpyXE-I-Vohcwg5nZc5j2mfztqvMFIsVWfllbralIU0g7HnVCK_frbcCJRUXZv2E9KCb-IJgFb2oyEy6NOpttRLzZbRwQVVCWksRrNBSejaIPVX/s1600-h/april+may+09+116.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 204px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbebLfj-e4gmEMx30At4zbOWBtxECxVpyXE-I-Vohcwg5nZc5j2mfztqvMFIsVWfllbralIU0g7HnVCK_frbcCJRUXZv2E9KCb-IJgFb2oyEy6NOpttRLzZbRwQVVCWksRrNBSejaIPVX/s400/april+may+09+116.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347093527826740066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCkwisGPi_yRiGyl_ekGH7QGEynCtEeeKdRoR8anUCi8Aa8R6t0_jheu1vvEbk2gNU76KZWvT8WLWA8oUaHYN9dqnU9BwPzcNSy7JZpw7XRc-59YYySA32aygDcWDyw1wPIlXPtevhcGf/s1600-h/april+may+09+102.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiCkwisGPi_yRiGyl_ekGH7QGEynCtEeeKdRoR8anUCi8Aa8R6t0_jheu1vvEbk2gNU76KZWvT8WLWA8oUaHYN9dqnU9BwPzcNSy7JZpw7XRc-59YYySA32aygDcWDyw1wPIlXPtevhcGf/s400/april+may+09+102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345017810271730914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbH4mNqyTxo0THfMNDjVB9zBqu8PMj2PhWt5egKLyDFh3bfiCRAXkTIYOY_-fOo_bgwCYvUiJf-vF6YWYLAPAIbH2y5bhFujZ1QiXmnPfKNvgTA323OshRq7weSqKshjyrcBhEV0gQvClD/s1600-h/april+may+09+087.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbH4mNqyTxo0THfMNDjVB9zBqu8PMj2PhWt5egKLyDFh3bfiCRAXkTIYOY_-fOo_bgwCYvUiJf-vF6YWYLAPAIbH2y5bhFujZ1QiXmnPfKNvgTA323OshRq7weSqKshjyrcBhEV0gQvClD/s400/april+may+09+087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345017809652957506" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08pr0z07sfNoLjnK0wzXj47pHxQppsWsIB2eaFgFiXyVpHLpO-_MjREbNOKpJRcRh2ignGYLX9JASEDf0Y8aymt3aD00OFp0kyvKeF5Z2Ue-b8VcqHmo1xlj3dScAcSKGp5LWTRgiPnEt/s1600-h/april+may+09+070.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08pr0z07sfNoLjnK0wzXj47pHxQppsWsIB2eaFgFiXyVpHLpO-_MjREbNOKpJRcRh2ignGYLX9JASEDf0Y8aymt3aD00OFp0kyvKeF5Z2Ue-b8VcqHmo1xlj3dScAcSKGp5LWTRgiPnEt/s400/april+may+09+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345017802832849586" border="0" /></a>This is the only picture I got of the view from the window. Can you believe that?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjQ2bNmYP3lVIVIdQiH_HvbEw96MGzIBNXUHbh4trIgRVUKsjWpG_7dAcbQnhAjhsApdutrwcUmvwLHTKczP_SqkkxCoCxPTWA3FSB5Zr-AoREZNvw1l-ji0dP4Qw6f63vWHFEfTQj6kU/s1600-h/april+may+09+061.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjQ2bNmYP3lVIVIdQiH_HvbEw96MGzIBNXUHbh4trIgRVUKsjWpG_7dAcbQnhAjhsApdutrwcUmvwLHTKczP_SqkkxCoCxPTWA3FSB5Zr-AoREZNvw1l-ji0dP4Qw6f63vWHFEfTQj6kU/s400/april+may+09+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345017796975719170" border="0" /></a>More S'mores<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoztzGBzY4Dx4i6sPaB8oKzXWety5Qm3qg1qWc0jpc2Ne0ONZzVpw5hFLEMxRQda0b6Q0ruF0xp_I4T6qvf71mZQMJsvy7FwWmMgmBemLz1OX6-xwIjfvsKLODG9MFBUFpz82DI905RIla/s1600-h/april+may+09+055.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoztzGBzY4Dx4i6sPaB8oKzXWety5Qm3qg1qWc0jpc2Ne0ONZzVpw5hFLEMxRQda0b6Q0ruF0xp_I4T6qvf71mZQMJsvy7FwWmMgmBemLz1OX6-xwIjfvsKLODG9MFBUFpz82DI905RIla/s400/april+may+09+055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345017792912133378" border="0" /></a>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-91979252812552882442009-04-25T10:18:00.001-07:002009-04-25T10:18:29.817-07:00Trigg<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQu89p9ceNqUT6pXF42V9yNWw44BG4KpH4uwiR4vvDAdtI3r-PElszfD9skFKNZCKGXxSl_7jedt0sCidTf9OsXarrKmOr6f0FU4e6djrpThZ6ncxtTJXMUUrA6QutTQySCmBmPQMkrZk/s1600-h/dec+08+026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQu89p9ceNqUT6pXF42V9yNWw44BG4KpH4uwiR4vvDAdtI3r-PElszfD9skFKNZCKGXxSl_7jedt0sCidTf9OsXarrKmOr6f0FU4e6djrpThZ6ncxtTJXMUUrA6QutTQySCmBmPQMkrZk/s400/dec+08+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324987591334460418" border="0" /></a><br />Trigg is my surprise.<br /><br />You think your done having kids and then one day, surprise. By that I mean that the single last lonely sperm left in Dave, fought his way through latex, into my fallopian tube and ripped out an egg that wasn't supposed to be out yet, and attached itself to my uteran wall. <span style="font-size:85%;">Sorry if that was too graphic for you but seriously! </span> Not only that, but it had to be a boy sperm. Boys 4. Girls 1. Way to go Mr. Mantastic.<br /><br />I was okay with this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Nzw7OFZKF3VacSIK62WSj6v1C23QiOK0nXS2wJTz15U9M0tgRBIx5cGjU9OP01J-iNoO-Klzsm1uS0OZQQXIQUO1AIXHYk_ALg50yy832IXfHmVAxtjjy14Oz15EVUWII8oMYtbUwieG/s1600-h/trigg4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Nzw7OFZKF3VacSIK62WSj6v1C23QiOK0nXS2wJTz15U9M0tgRBIx5cGjU9OP01J-iNoO-Klzsm1uS0OZQQXIQUO1AIXHYk_ALg50yy832IXfHmVAxtjjy14Oz15EVUWII8oMYtbUwieG/s400/trigg4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322375222994674258" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And I loved this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJW0b4E_ftNeHWR9oEC9gL4t6I7II-b5MdB7Ir36hQ95SJMfuzf9WMSPbTbP8n2Tnt-NrR_AOeAT0iMv_n6uOZc9TOo4ytE4WyS5hCV_tC5CT3IhhoXzYp4THsZt1yG-QAbnG_JnJTdkr/s1600-h/100_0582a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKJW0b4E_ftNeHWR9oEC9gL4t6I7II-b5MdB7Ir36hQ95SJMfuzf9WMSPbTbP8n2Tnt-NrR_AOeAT0iMv_n6uOZc9TOo4ytE4WyS5hCV_tC5CT3IhhoXzYp4THsZt1yG-QAbnG_JnJTdkr/s400/100_0582a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322374877926034610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Not so much this.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAr5I8UvFqvIYLg7iWELRYcqE6ATqouXm6vra6_QOBVTnYJZ9Bmu5e2aBM-Fff6WJPJ9aUOJ1S_MBUll9-TJP1QUf5hRn-gORiDKraa1lmDANYOEIl0rvdV45ise1iZR1RuqaG7eZ53uu_/s1600-h/December+08+003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAr5I8UvFqvIYLg7iWELRYcqE6ATqouXm6vra6_QOBVTnYJZ9Bmu5e2aBM-Fff6WJPJ9aUOJ1S_MBUll9-TJP1QUf5hRn-gORiDKraa1lmDANYOEIl0rvdV45ise1iZR1RuqaG7eZ53uu_/s400/December+08+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322378624233129218" border="0" /></a><br />or this.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1UTXbKu5J2nkn1qcssQqfByx7SfOhxWYuAooxiv_AuhLEzKydpZ7Hm16cqb9v7poKcZC6LR8GXHJbbaaVzvo3H-ZI_MqjQqcehcKIaRrAox3off2gM098CpEouDGUMgZnVgbMBty1aqx2/s1600-h/December+08+024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1UTXbKu5J2nkn1qcssQqfByx7SfOhxWYuAooxiv_AuhLEzKydpZ7Hm16cqb9v7poKcZC6LR8GXHJbbaaVzvo3H-ZI_MqjQqcehcKIaRrAox3off2gM098CpEouDGUMgZnVgbMBty1aqx2/s400/December+08+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322411888378492754" border="0" /></a><br />Trigg, or Trigg-saster or Trigg-zillla, is mean.<br /><br />Not so much mean-spirited, I don't think but still mean. He hits, he scratches, he pinches, and yes, he has been known to bite on occasion. Sometimes, unprovoked.<br /><br />He has been written up at the gym SIX times. He has been grounded from the gym for weeks and months at a time. <span style="font-size:100%;">Most</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> of the time his cousin Dax has been the victim but still, SIX times.<br /><br />He tackles Jarem and pulls his hair for no reason. My gramma can't watch Trigg and Addie at the same time for fear of Addie's life.</span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />He adds so much more stress to my life.<br /><br />Sometimes I look</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> at him and think, why?<br /><br />Just why?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">But once in a while, usually when we are alone, I look at his brown/green eyes that are exactly the same color as my dads (not attractive, but familiar), and I know why I love him.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">I still don't know why I had him, but I kno</span><span style="font-size:100%;">w why I love him.<br /><br />Most days, I want to tie him up in a chair, or just tie his hands together (which I have tried).<br /><br />Maybe, one da</span><span style="font-size:100%;">y, I will know why I had him. But at least sometimes, I know why I love him.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">I dream about his graduation, from medical school, and a letter I will get in 17 years from just one person that has learned about the gospel, or has had a better day because of Elder Dunyon.<br /><br />I dream about a temple marriage to a sweet little girl, that lets me take her babies, and of a perfect fatherhood to at least 3 children.<br /><br />Then I will k</span><span style="font-size:100%;">now why I had him.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Or maybe Addie just le</span><span style="font-size:100%;">arns some mad self defense skills and it saves her life one day.<br /><br />Or that. Something, please?<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70ptIcah4NT88yfnZFUnUbh9l5WQ_qfRghwk-86ANKFlgY6Ud2hQTcWtz7mKuUGCyxiZYzQlB6ymKedkpgpKW4j7sg80xCOwOJ6S4o_gCTSFLTwvQW0A440q1KX2m55kPBo9Sp2hfphd6/s1600-h/Family+pictures+08+049.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70ptIcah4NT88yfnZFUnUbh9l5WQ_qfRghwk-86ANKFlgY6Ud2hQTcWtz7mKuUGCyxiZYzQlB6ymKedkpgpKW4j7sg80xCOwOJ6S4o_gCTSFLTwvQW0A440q1KX2m55kPBo9Sp2hfphd6/s400/Family+pictures+08+049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327994904754348818" border="0" /></a>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-60929804486536172532009-04-23T13:53:00.000-07:002009-04-23T23:25:04.387-07:00Plain White T's<img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-6.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-7.jpg" alt="" />How do I get my whites, WHITE.<br /><br />Obsessed with laundry? Pretty much.<br /><br />I put my whites in hot water, with a scoop of Oxy Clean and some bleach.<br /><br />Dingy, faded whites.<br /><br />What is the secret?<br /><br />I HATE dingy, white T-shirts.<br />Anyone?<img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-5.jpg" alt="" />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-18504132856860306802009-04-14T16:54:00.000-07:002009-04-14T17:28:11.883-07:00Give a little, get a little...<span style="font-size:100%;">The week I spent with Cassie, I took Lexi on a walk after conference to get her out of the condo and to give Cassie and Brandon some peace for a while. There was a little brook by the side of the condos and we decided it would be fun to throw some rocks.<br /><br />Big rocks....<br /><br />Little rocks.....<br /><br />Big splash.....<br /><br />Little splash....until Lexi was so cold she was turning purple.<br /><br />While I sat with her, </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:78%;">picking up the rocks and wiping off the dirt</span>, I was thinking how fun it was and how I probably hadn't spent this much one</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> on one, quality time with Trigg since he was born. I started to feel really guilty that I h</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ad left my whole family to have Cassie's family all to myself.<br /><br />Spring Break week I packed up my whole family, minus poor Dave who had to work, and went to Orange County to st</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ay with his family.<br /><br />The beach was calling me.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">One day, we all went to the beach on a cold day just to walk and feed the birds and watch the waves.<br /><br />All of a sudden I found myself crou</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ched down, with the little Trigger.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">We got to throw rocks.<br /><br />Just him and me....<span style="font-size:78%;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">kind of</span></span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4OxtSr1YF6p_5TcJWe6xn4hmlpQVKpCLDf_7KXBnwsUhpTCj7F5E8SuLzrGqdKT2NwdJKZQaJvv97gd0Jc0PCQT4dgJKvVk6krcp5k4j-EJcHQ3ohoXSrv0-cJ6ZLGZsM-mP3CpCYfuy/s1600-h/P1010989.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4OxtSr1YF6p_5TcJWe6xn4hmlpQVKpCLDf_7KXBnwsUhpTCj7F5E8SuLzrGqdKT2NwdJKZQaJvv97gd0Jc0PCQT4dgJKvVk6krcp5k4j-EJcHQ3ohoXSrv0-cJ6ZLGZsM-mP3CpCYfuy/s400/P1010989.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324704035588268498" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Big rocks...<br /><br />Little rocks..<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRKusVqPrM3kVOBEgNgO9og2q9JCzjoWyKaYM-x1x8YPLJ-w1CMmpqxohqf73sCuUehS9vTxC5PMFyYGx82vJgZE5QJ2KRaADzsYjIK_zPavcZt-aYTcTmCC3zFXWmgggc_4ZQEs8XUD4/s1600-h/P1010991.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRKusVqPrM3kVOBEgNgO9og2q9JCzjoWyKaYM-x1x8YPLJ-w1CMmpqxohqf73sCuUehS9vTxC5PMFyYGx82vJgZE5QJ2KRaADzsYjIK_zPavcZt-aYTcTmCC3zFXWmgggc_4ZQEs8XUD4/s400/P1010991.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324704040066675346" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Big wave....<br /><br />Little wave....<br /><br />Sometimes, we just get lucky!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4L3C0L0gPwiiO97tDg61P11f-EMqHl1KquF8QqjPF0OAVIfKWWVCrcpygsKBcBxr5_P348YWkPmMmDUIOokkRqBgqP8LQk55uuNEqNp8Zyo9NO5y29-13u46qcebrkkFox30gD0t9RmWs/s1600-h/P1010987.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4L3C0L0gPwiiO97tDg61P11f-EMqHl1KquF8QqjPF0OAVIfKWWVCrcpygsKBcBxr5_P348YWkPmMmDUIOokkRqBgqP8LQk55uuNEqNp8Zyo9NO5y29-13u46qcebrkkFox30gD0t9RmWs/s400/P1010987.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324704044690960146" border="0" /></a></span>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-65901147309834434212009-03-15T12:08:00.000-07:002009-03-15T12:28:36.625-07:00The spoils of public schools...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nLyBIUIx3TppvBIkD9djexWLIKx7KQBYxXpjSWNM1K9yqTgNcugU5vs9EivC047VJfuj3s8CqiAjbza0scFxdCYLWQGbPObGkUcvVXn9r9JYSt8Z0Qc3zaSA89-fuQyv5jI1lGv1HrRJ/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nLyBIUIx3TppvBIkD9djexWLIKx7KQBYxXpjSWNM1K9yqTgNcugU5vs9EivC047VJfuj3s8CqiAjbza0scFxdCYLWQGbPObGkUcvVXn9r9JYSt8Z0Qc3zaSA89-fuQyv5jI1lGv1HrRJ/s320/Disneyland+09+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313494178153353586" border="0" /></a><br />This is a bridge that Tate had to engineer and build at school. I think the class was industrial tech, it's an elective. I think it was either that or choir. Typing is not even a class. However, they do teach them how do make a spreadsheet. What the heck? I took typing in Jr. High. Anyway, they built a bridge and had a contest to see how much weight they could hold. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmUFjzfRPmRqzJUBA4FBVrWBUZoQAFk8xNZHQBUIIJAtAoiTJCEdK7jp12QlzfMDX_7UAFT1ioIjOZ0ear0kEeD7K5CJI-bCZvyL_V87p9TO7o5U0Xpd_bkzCMxGVZvkl-tdU5xV_jyC1/s1600-h/tatesbridge.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmUFjzfRPmRqzJUBA4FBVrWBUZoQAFk8xNZHQBUIIJAtAoiTJCEdK7jp12QlzfMDX_7UAFT1ioIjOZ0ear0kEeD7K5CJI-bCZvyL_V87p9TO7o5U0Xpd_bkzCMxGVZvkl-tdU5xV_jyC1/s400/tatesbridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313496334772740274" border="0" /></a><br />Tate's bridge came in second holding 95 lbs. The winner's bridge held 97 lbs. I thought Tate's was pretty impressive. The world always needs another engineer, right Tate? He loves that stuff, but he still doesn't know how to type correctly.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-18403982581199995822009-03-11T11:07:00.000-07:002009-03-11T11:22:09.878-07:00Too much going on...not enough time to post!Here are the things I will blog about when I have more time (in no particular order):<br /><br />The fun filled week I spent being Lexi's best friend.<br /><br />The cutest, tiniest baby girl ever! (no offense Sherry but Cassie's baby is tinier!)<br /><br />Tate's bridge that he built in industrial tech (or something like that). It holds 95 lbs!<br /><br />Janee dancing at Disneyland<br /><br />3 days at Disneyland!<br /><br />My mom coming home from her mission.<br /><br />Tate getting his braces off.<br /><br />3 days at Disneyland!<br /><br />A day at the beach with Gramma and Grampa Dunyon.<br /><br />P.S. I need baby stuff. I think I threw a party when Trigg was done with all his baby stuff and got rid of EVERYTHING! Since my new obsession is other peoples babies and they are at my house A LOT, I need baby stuff. Bouncers, walkers, exersaucers, swings, your tiny baby for the afternoon or for the weekend. Come on, I know there is some one out there who wants to get rid of that stuff. Will pick up!<br /><br />P.P.S. Sorry no pictures, I hate posts with no pictures.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-63693050041853696052009-02-17T14:17:00.000-08:002009-03-11T12:15:15.274-07:00Warning: baby picture overload<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihjR1lLVL-j1X-dMzrICG2DXyzCNxzVW7Te_R5uiDE55xw8Z_Qng5s8JGPcERM-ND7SoGKlGhKZ2RdZYcsw8pPgqOKniDXHqAMXJriwM0V1ko5TuT4LGdp521jBEvCXZtHvYlwAld2bHSD/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihjR1lLVL-j1X-dMzrICG2DXyzCNxzVW7Te_R5uiDE55xw8Z_Qng5s8JGPcERM-ND7SoGKlGhKZ2RdZYcsw8pPgqOKniDXHqAMXJriwM0V1ko5TuT4LGdp521jBEvCXZtHvYlwAld2bHSD/s320/Disneyland+09+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312008978683598770" border="0" /></a>Here is Laney getting her first sunta<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6avU6y87Fj2ur40LAkDAnDSS55IaJX1Kf1ZD057rcj-D-taK4RDEp7rcuLWN31UT1E3kseckFC52bLQUyUnAN6xFT3DsDZk8ISC1IOXvID01gHEaxQlhQbINN5RICqDJYYRtwxG3mSlX/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+059.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6avU6y87Fj2ur40LAkDAnDSS55IaJX1Kf1ZD057rcj-D-taK4RDEp7rcuLWN31UT1E3kseckFC52bLQUyUnAN6xFT3DsDZk8ISC1IOXvID01gHEaxQlhQbINN5RICqDJYYRtwxG3mSlX/s320/Disneyland+09+059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312010341368194962" border="0" /></a>n. She didn't like to get naked and she likes having her face in the sun even less so this was a small victory for us. I think this was the only sunny day we had in Utah.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4uXmcXwsdz24TL89VPFrMGoXI8WIkHJ8wrcNjXdvK52XXkhaEqPyNEkunbpeV835PQCY78hRut5C9VZb-pZWV6F7X_qjFz5EUg8oJ1j5GTFMML5wWgEqLEJaaWlqHRbP0TUz9_K1rMGt/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4uXmcXwsdz24TL89VPFrMGoXI8WIkHJ8wrcNjXdvK52XXkhaEqPyNEkunbpeV835PQCY78hRut5C9VZb-pZWV6F7X_qjFz5EUg8oJ1j5GTFMML5wWgEqLEJaaWlqHRbP0TUz9_K1rMGt/s320/Disneyland+09+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312007746127122226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb01tBmgZHJ10AYaETneWwhBgfS_qnXduJC_1He82hNEISFOFs2W0zZcI2seipfNmzNHC-3YbxkgKy6BOWAiFu2HbF4YoNUoToSk6hfLSu4yfgPVd80YDNyifvtzPSBwTrEO7GMytsuVU8/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb01tBmgZHJ10AYaETneWwhBgfS_qnXduJC_1He82hNEISFOFs2W0zZcI2seipfNmzNHC-3YbxkgKy6BOWAiFu2HbF4YoNUoToSk6hfLSu4yfgPVd80YDNyifvtzPSBwTrEO7GMytsuVU8/s320/Disneyland+09+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312007332653224594" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeMGei-OuB8Kvb8kPeBuUDkPOZHUEmSQkuzAAKhxsA0m2q9mUtUomBzzQbI3okTei1hG13kHbImWZOXqH7tnSf0Wo278thcVHISWIsPzfwUyWtlQlVcqvrr3GYydx0K1k1dE3kl998aF9/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+043.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNeMGei-OuB8Kvb8kPeBuUDkPOZHUEmSQkuzAAKhxsA0m2q9mUtUomBzzQbI3okTei1hG13kHbImWZOXqH7tnSf0Wo278thcVHISWIsPzfwUyWtlQlVcqvrr3GYydx0K1k1dE3kl998aF9/s320/Disneyland+09+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312007328082724690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQQgOxkM8I3xJkjequRemrMNMNKsezborBzGgwGNAm29UNndc8ukMu6rlns9W3Ao2alDfoLkMvKpfxO0AiyJx8rXdk0NrtAtmpxzPOBd4_d9DlydFBXJBMH-09bgrhk_3zF11xsLAoixE/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisQQgOxkM8I3xJkjequRemrMNMNKsezborBzGgwGNAm29UNndc8ukMu6rlns9W3Ao2alDfoLkMvKpfxO0AiyJx8rXdk0NrtAtmpxzPOBd4_d9DlydFBXJBMH-09bgrhk_3zF11xsLAoixE/s320/Disneyland+09+045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312007323681253058" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyz3MhAMrYCtCGP3jrrYvXZQaadLqfb9Vvm2_3_TpQXHp0rLsSUCm3GZfWgm-ilVd1GFmqfuDtpk1hKJZsI7wnPWlUDyaF4n7Rvfyl1D3VoJ36h8WIPWKMpXNybbxWm1Yw9w3I97fHwsxu/s1600-h/Disneyland+09+042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyz3MhAMrYCtCGP3jrrYvXZQaadLqfb9Vvm2_3_TpQXHp0rLsSUCm3GZfWgm-ilVd1GFmqfuDtpk1hKJZsI7wnPWlUDyaF4n7Rvfyl1D3VoJ36h8WIPWKMpXNybbxWm1Yw9w3I97fHwsxu/s320/Disneyland+09+042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312007319688467714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />The newest pink baby in our family is always making some expression with her mouth, even in her sleep. I have to say it's the cutest. This day she sat on my lap and just made faces at me for an hour. I tried to capture them all. Enjoy!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Here you can see her dimples. I miss her like crazy and I tried to memorize every tiny little thing she did. I know she will look so much different when I see her again in the summer. Once again, I long for a fabulous camera and the know how to use it.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-4697041438187712852009-02-15T13:19:00.000-08:002009-02-16T13:25:32.091-08:00Tiny Baby LaneyI'm in Utah right now helping my sister Cassie with her baby until my mom gets home. Utah is the last place I would choose to be in February, I hate snow. The fact that Cassie just had the cutest baby in the world makes up for it. I got here while Cassie was still in the hospital so I got to play with Lexi by myself. I'll post about that next.<br /><br />Here is Lexi visiting her baby sister with her dad. She was so excited to see her and loves to give her kisses.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWS5ByqmKPS7THHMhQRQ0SF50LGfgv9D5A1lUSi3YQkByzOPBbTOEh1GZ0vFgN_bT4k71HaHUomIaBjermcnlMlKF0Fgotq39EFHG0OwfkCBZXrMvqCQyHLiGToxxCrb9gzpZjEm3bIjlG/s1600-h/laneyandlexi+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWS5ByqmKPS7THHMhQRQ0SF50LGfgv9D5A1lUSi3YQkByzOPBbTOEh1GZ0vFgN_bT4k71HaHUomIaBjermcnlMlKF0Fgotq39EFHG0OwfkCBZXrMvqCQyHLiGToxxCrb9gzpZjEm3bIjlG/s320/laneyandlexi+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303139493899150354" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Lexi spent this day with me while her parents stayed in the hospital, we had some serious girl time!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdppi7SGIHoaqkIJ-Ch9Rp0c2FV6iF5Xhen_UudETPGsuLlnqtq1mh04fhNSi9-VaXdWSIJF9HtYy5bFkNpnyls_yfTT02xrfjAXGULy4Z3wlIKdQPyJzv-103luEPhYPQb0q2_7wupGQ/s1600-h/laneyandlexi+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdppi7SGIHoaqkIJ-Ch9Rp0c2FV6iF5Xhen_UudETPGsuLlnqtq1mh04fhNSi9-VaXdWSIJF9HtYy5bFkNpnyls_yfTT02xrfjAXGULy4Z3wlIKdQPyJzv-103luEPhYPQb0q2_7wupGQ/s320/laneyandlexi+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303139888469175906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6Yuc02eSpBUbiWx-2eP1u62ZRDk_xt4vsneNArQCGHBYZmihSNOgEykQ1Ja794Hcjnnw8pIPr_cgxu4Yfu6DVCSNyCX6JEvmC4bhDbGuW-MSi6LPl4LMGDeOLn1iHMdVciB9rADL8otS/s1600-h/laneyandlexi+009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6Yuc02eSpBUbiWx-2eP1u62ZRDk_xt4vsneNArQCGHBYZmihSNOgEykQ1Ja794Hcjnnw8pIPr_cgxu4Yfu6DVCSNyCX6JEvmC4bhDbGuW-MSi6LPl4LMGDeOLn1iHMdVciB9rADL8otS/s320/laneyandlexi+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303140722592771410" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddM0DHTXrGrSDxLpYUGaSYlnGIVN9nV97W94G3cj8zCKCZS1o2irK4kv95NmNIv13yC7kZ-TYpAT8tZ99YCKg42lkuqm8cpnJC0p8yexzyfQwhfwFHtlxkBPhUNwJQeI7UDW08qopRNpV/s1600-h/laneyandlexi+019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiddM0DHTXrGrSDxLpYUGaSYlnGIVN9nV97W94G3cj8zCKCZS1o2irK4kv95NmNIv13yC7kZ-TYpAT8tZ99YCKg42lkuqm8cpnJC0p8yexzyfQwhfwFHtlxkBPhUNwJQeI7UDW08qopRNpV/s320/laneyandlexi+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303503652033804338" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Look at those blue eyes! Laney will be lucky to get those baby blues. I think Laney looks just like Cassie although I have nothing to compare to but memory. Where is your baby book, Cassie? Laney is such a sweet baby, she is so tiny and mild mannered. She loves to be held but is just as content when you put her down. So far she has only given them one bad night but since she is so new we don't know why. I think Cassie has figured out a good system consisting of plenty of food and plenty of burping which leads to plenty of sleeping. Hopefully, this works from now on. She is a little jaundice so Cassie has been taking her in to check her billirubin levels because they are high so we have been trying to give her a suntan which is tricky in Utah. Hopefully, we can get them down on our own. She is so tiny and cute Cassie, Brandon and I have to take turns just holding her and staring at her tiny cuteness. She does NOT like to get naked or have her diaper changed and she snorts when she fusses. To anyone who has not had a pink baby, I highly recommend it, and my post partum services afterward.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-1980298660966392512009-02-06T11:19:00.000-08:002009-02-10T08:24:37.362-08:00The Pink Baby<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">Cleaning and scrubbing</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">Can wait till tomorrow,<br /><br />For babies grow up<br />We've learned to our sorrow.<br /><br />So quiet down cobwebs,<br />Dust go to sleep,</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);"><br />I'm rocking Sherry's baby,<br />because babies don't keep.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">This is one of my favorite poems, in fact </span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7CiCMZxLRz-LIOpLvUGZHHgN6hyphenhyphen3csnciDEIJxwWpmBiSjjWeWMkz6uucI9JlAAmPpvIDt_SvrIPeVPw1fGOfi_1JCTQYGRBb9lWPVb-RgmjMsA-MeY3_pGUa8gniaSgYY0pbCR1f8p9/s1600-h/february09+018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7CiCMZxLRz-LIOpLvUGZHHgN6hyphenhyphen3csnciDEIJxwWpmBiSjjWeWMkz6uucI9JlAAmPpvIDt_SvrIPeVPw1fGOfi_1JCTQYGRBb9lWPVb-RgmjMsA-MeY3_pGUa8gniaSgYY0pbCR1f8p9/s320/february09+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300946766262219378" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">I printed it and framed it for my sister <a href="http://www.blogger.com/danjanand7.blogspot.com/">Jannalee </a>for a birthday or something. I know this is exactly how she feels about babies and this is exactly how I felt with the pink baby. </span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">I had <a href="http://clanmacnab.blogspot.com/">Sherry's </a>baby for the weekend. The pink baby, aka Abigail, aka the tiny baby, LOVES to nurse. She was only eating enough from a bottle so that she wouldn't starve. She finally learn</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">ed that this was the only way she was gettin any but she drew the line at formula. She was perfectly happy to drink Sherry's breast milk all weekend. Which is EXACTLY what Brenley did when I babysat her for Sherry's anniversary weekend. Talk about your spoiled babies. Jeesh, Sherry </span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">what do you put in that stuff? My boys were thoroughly grossed out to see it in the fridge and tried to get Dave to put it on his cereal.<br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ltNFxm_zuo6D0NOF3IoxAUYx5IXxA4irKocrNP0InwsFqgUMGLcBAx2mxFfn9wwAwPNPP6QY22HdooVuVGSGlKTp36B62R-YRVe1MDaGTuiQD45yk2htVvQ1_5g_byY19Da3quBLIpYI/s1600-h/february09+015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ltNFxm_zuo6D0NOF3IoxAUYx5IXxA4irKocrNP0InwsFqgUMGLcBAx2mxFfn9wwAwPNPP6QY22HdooVuVGSGlKTp36B62R-YRVe1MDaGTuiQD45yk2htVvQ1_5g_byY19Da3quBLIpYI/s320/february09+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300946555481789346" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">I got a shower while she slept but she woke up before I could do my </span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">hair or put on my make up.<br /><br />I COULD HAVE put her in the bouncer and bounced her with my fo</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">ot while I put on my make up. But I didn't. I held her.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">I COULD HAVE propped up the bottle while I blow dried my hair. But I didn't. I held her and fed her and watched her make feeding faces and feeding noises.<br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">I SHOULD HAVE put her in the swing to make my other children lunch. But I </span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">didn't, I made them wait until she slept.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);"><br />I COULD HAVE given her to Kylee to give her a bath. But I didn't. I bathed her and watched her kick her tiny feet and suck on her tiny fists until the water was cool.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);"><br />I COULD HAVE gotten up with her at 6:00 am when she was fussy after her 5:45 feeding. But I didn't, I made Mr. Mantastic do it because I was too tired and I had to get up at 7:00 anyway. :)<br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">Loved having the pink baby and Michelle's baby too. There is just something about babies, the way they smell, taste, sound and feel. It is something a mother NEVER stops craving. Good thing I have nieces and nephe</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">ws. In fact, I get to go to Utah this week to help my sister <a href="http://cassiewernli.blogspot.com/">Cassie</a> when she comes home with her brand new pink baby of her own. Maybe she'll let me borrow her in the middle of the night while she gets some sleep. Maybe, I'll actually wake up.<br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTr8rJy57pf4c2sO-08gVCC6gHoxo1kjBJt2X1D8SupRDzAsAAFnwR2nTSuNl4T4YD7ia321TiJrgib2pyccbseAyAIvpayWxEbsWLAldn0d5y6e8JDVvKdnR0LcfkP1KYLNiISDIh9Jc_/s1600-h/february09+003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTr8rJy57pf4c2sO-08gVCC6gHoxo1kjBJt2X1D8SupRDzAsAAFnwR2nTSuNl4T4YD7ia321TiJrgib2pyccbseAyAIvpayWxEbsWLAldn0d5y6e8JDVvKdnR0LcfkP1KYLNiISDIh9Jc_/s320/february09+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300947063643421842" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" >This is my baby next to the pink baby.</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"> </span>Why do ALL of your kids have to grow up? Why can't one ju</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">st keep reliving the first year of life over and over? Because babies don't keep. I guess it is kind of nice to give them back to their parents. And I really do enjoy my sleep too. I'll wake up to feed a baby but if they don't go back to sleep, it's all Dave. He's been helping me take care of other people's children since we were engaged....mantastic. </span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);"><br /><br />New babies have always been my moms job. Cassie decided to have her baby 2 weeks early and my mom doesn't get home from Germany until the 19th. We couldn't leave Cassie on her own for a week! I know it will not be the same as having my mom take care of her but I will be lovin every minute of it! I'll just try my best to take care of her and her little family until my mom can come home and take over. And how can I leave my own family for a week to go to Utah and help Cassie? I have a fabulous <a href="http://greggarn.blogspot.com/">sister</a> that just happens to live next to / with me that LOVES taking care of my kids u</span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">ntil Mr. Mantastic comes home from work to take over. I'll prolly* miss my own family and maybe Dave too. But for that week, it's just me, Cassie, tiny new pink baby and Lexi. Oh and Brandon too.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfucF1n8xLoxryTHFFdZBBXX1rzrN3TMbDa8Zx-O0k-9qEyoXrcPUlouFBR87hmUcSgAK7TuWhSLFQkas2Cc9gbt6p7wKDoyZXD4xKC8t-3fEsflhZBehNTdv8pZcXsbRUmrdG1jTaUY7/s1600-h/Kinsey.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfucF1n8xLoxryTHFFdZBBXX1rzrN3TMbDa8Zx-O0k-9qEyoXrcPUlouFBR87hmUcSgAK7TuWhSLFQkas2Cc9gbt6p7wKDoyZXD4xKC8t-3fEsflhZBehNTdv8pZcXsbRUmrdG1jTaUY7/s320/Kinsey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300959057010117154" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);">*new texting word I got from Kinsey's little friends. I love teen age girls prolly as much as I love new babies, especially when I don't have to be their parent!</span></span><span style=";font-family:Comic Sans MS;font-size:85%;" ><span style="color: rgb(240, 15, 240);"><br /></span></span>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-9542330094662859632009-01-29T20:27:00.000-08:002009-02-04T09:46:11.987-08:00Jayson DodgeI smell like baby barf, my car is a mess, I don't remember the last time I had time to shave my legs, I consider it a luxury if I had time to blow dry my hair, makeup is rarely an option, I wear sweats daily and sometimes they are actually clean, my "big" t-shirts aren't quite so big anymore, my toe-nails are in need of attention, I'm dressed up if I am wearing earrings with my big t-shirts, shiny silver strands keep popping up on my head, I consider 4 hours of consecutive sleep a good night, my girls don't get their hair combed as much as they should, I have knots in my back and my neck from bouncing and rocking and holding...<br /><br /><br />Oh wait, was that Michelle's exact post from a couple of days ago? Yes, yes it was. It must be because I was TAKING CARE OF HER BABY! Just kidding Michelle, he's awesome. He hums to me when he is eating and just about to fall asleep, he gives me huge smiles when he is just waking up from a nap, he lets me do his hair in a really cool faux hawk and he has a tiny dimple on the left side of his face when he smiles really big. But I do smell like baby barf ALL the time. You would not believe the amount of barf that comes out of this kid! I can't believe he gains any weight at all.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAavKvX6_dhYhut992N6x4B7ZpM6I2ndHWFRxi1FyiOSFsPW8n-ydVexPfwIVa5oaXb7ubrceJb_aen5V1Y0t9Uwh8tlhptmYV5oHZQ2mEaLsw9PtMueNWv9t7mBBjRCRIw6KuVK6io8k9/s1600-h/Jayson+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAavKvX6_dhYhut992N6x4B7ZpM6I2ndHWFRxi1FyiOSFsPW8n-ydVexPfwIVa5oaXb7ubrceJb_aen5V1Y0t9Uwh8tlhptmYV5oHZQ2mEaLsw9PtMueNWv9t7mBBjRCRIw6KuVK6io8k9/s320/Jayson+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298998921395571042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My advice to my sister Callie who thinks she is ready for a baby, RIGHT NOW, take one for at least three days and then decide. I LOVE babies, everything about them. The smell, the taste, the sounds, the feel of their chubbers, tiny little hands, not to mention their irresistabe cheeks....both sets. I love having a baby in my house, the whole feel of it, the way their littlle eyes roll back in their heads when they're eating, like they are in heaven, I love it.<br /><br />HOWEVER, I do NOT want one PERMANENTLY in my house. So bring on the new babies! I would love to take care of them for you whenever you want (as long as I get the ok from my husband of course). I will love them, wake up with them in the middle of the night, bounce them when they are fussy, clean them up when they are pukey, all of it. For me, it's like having a new toy for a couple of days. Which is why I have to get the ok from my husband because I tend to ignore everything else while I play with my new toy. BUT, I will happily give them back when you come home.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-3766721100571852782009-01-28T15:34:00.000-08:002009-01-29T22:01:52.259-08:00Mantastic!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfI4WX0ZH_cXNw3cA4Xe8pJK7rztPz-ZyiEgSxcWRLnobTsKDll-l8DG1eCPB7x_Xvk9wyybFB-ZyHV_YM6gpadmJR_B1PIab3W7YtQXuHyu4xwwfsMSJ_cb23JTDy3uc4jmzrN7frjP-W/s1600-h/Family+pictures+08+068.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfI4WX0ZH_cXNw3cA4Xe8pJK7rztPz-ZyiEgSxcWRLnobTsKDll-l8DG1eCPB7x_Xvk9wyybFB-ZyHV_YM6gpadmJR_B1PIab3W7YtQXuHyu4xwwfsMSJ_cb23JTDy3uc4jmzrN7frjP-W/s400/Family+pictures+08+068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296787735813866818" border="0" /></a><br />That is not a word you say? It is. <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">Mantastic</span></span>. Look it up in the Joy Dictionary of Words and it will be there with a picture of Dave as definition. Many of you know me and you know that I pretty much can't function without my husband. I go through every day waiting for 5 o'clock to come around so I can have my partner back. Dave can do anything I can do. Aside from pregnancy, labor and breast feeding, he and I are pretty much interchangeable. Sometimes, I think he missed his calling because he would be an awesome mom. Right now he is the team mom on Kevin's basketball team. He rocks it. Anywhere he goes, he knows he has to take at least two kids, usually the littlest. Even to his own haircuts, little league pictures, grocery store, the dump, where ever, he's got the babies. In the morning, he makes lunches and gets the older kids off to school so I can get myself and the younger ones off to the gym. He can even manage a pretty decent pony tail if I can't get to Janee's hair. The list goes on but most of you know all this already. He takes such <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">GREAT</span></span> care of me!<br /><br />Last week, Dave was called away to Las Vegas for a big home show for his fabulous iron doors, from <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">MONDAY TO FRIDAY</span></span>. A whole week on my own, what was I going t<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7thcZtM403Z7ff7o6HYCkMLPQudlrGsOjeM3u7Liz-nMgwbayoJjekCIW5uISKg3oSNkshrXiWM4o1ERbSHjrAHtGmkEGnbPwwheZDuPrNhPj8h2lLkrDOipVETGne_3P5OBMurDjmv5/s1600-h/Jan+2009+032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7thcZtM403Z7ff7o6HYCkMLPQudlrGsOjeM3u7Liz-nMgwbayoJjekCIW5uISKg3oSNkshrXiWM4o1ERbSHjrAHtGmkEGnbPwwheZDuPrNhPj8h2lLkrDOipVETGne_3P5OBMurDjmv5/s320/Jan+2009+032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296950109735886002" border="0" /></a>o do? I can't manage my whole household <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">ALONE</span></span>. Let me make a disclaimer. I know there are several of you out there who do this type of thing on a regular basis. I bow down to you, you are my idols. That is not me. I just might have a break down. Any way, I settled in and prepared for the worst. Imagine my surprise!<br /><br />Monday night, I did family night. I got everyone showered and put to bed on time. I also had to do the "pre-cleaners clean" all by myself. (This is harder to do than you might think.)<br /><br />On Tuesday, I actually got up in time to fix lunches, and get everyone ready and myself off to the gym. (I also got to have the cleaners come but that is totally fair since the scary house looks the same clean or dirty.) I also got two girls to dance, I got Tate to basketball practice, I made dinner and I actually made it to Enrichment night. (I did have help with that one since Greg picked Tate up from practice for me.) Showers, bed, like clockwork. (Except I did have 2 children in bed with me because I couldn't manage to tell either one of them "no")<br /><br />Wednesday, more lunches, off to the gym. I made dinner AGAIN, girls picked up from dance, Tate to mutual, girls home from dance, Tate home from mutual. Homework done, showers, bed on time. (Again, 2 children in bed with me but I think Janee suffered the most. She said Jarem and I both snore. So go sleep in your own bed, I do not snore.)<br /><br />Thursday, more lunches, off to the gym. This day I actually made dinner ahead, had Tate put it in the oven because I had to go to <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">SCOUTS</span></span> from 4:00 - 5:00. Rush Kevin to basketball practice right after scouts and home to do dinner. Pick up Kevin from basketball. Thursday night, I am having such a great time by myself, I tell Greg and Rebecca to go to Las Vegas over night to check out the home show Dave is at. No problem, I'll take <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">ALL 10 KIDS</span></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">.</span><br /><br />Friday morning, <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">I GOT 7 KIDS READY FOR SCHOOL AND MYSELF OFF TO THE GYM BY 8:00 IN THE MORNING!</span></span> Friday= <span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);">PIZZA DAY</span> woo hoo, no lunches! <img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /> <img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" alt="" />Boys to school, babies to naps. Things ran totally smoothly until I had a retarded Dr. who decided to make me wait an hour for an appt for Trigg which made me get Saydie to gym late and I BARELY got Kylee to her voice lesson on time. Picked up Saydie from Gym. Otherwise things were great.<br /><br />Laundry got done and put away on time.<br /><br />House stayed clean (all 400 square feet that I call my own, but it does include a kitchen and a kitchen's a kitchen, right?)<br /><br />I went tanning...twice. (This is very important)<br /><br />My bed got made.<br /><br />I did my hair and make up every day (well, one day was a pony tail but that's done, right? It was raining!)<br /><br />Got Tate and Kinsey off for Baptisms for the dead at 4:00 am and then back to school because mysteriously, they were just barely too late to catch the bus.<br /><br />I even managed to get the baby potty trained, kind of. Who knew he'd rather be naked than wear u<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn5M50J956iaPEi4P9EFYVYHotejhBNNORVDsnBEoqKxFNajA9d1stjGRMlti-ghvNUEZqDT4Rgj2bZTEYMG1RKITXBMAEUsUTE_KEl9KdXMGt-IHOY3OGrQ-LF6alvW3U_RBI_xWQ1hj/s1600-h/Jan+2009+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn5M50J956iaPEi4P9EFYVYHotejhBNNORVDsnBEoqKxFNajA9d1stjGRMlti-ghvNUEZqDT4Rgj2bZTEYMG1RKITXBMAEUsUTE_KEl9KdXMGt-IHOY3OGrQ-LF6alvW3U_RBI_xWQ1hj/s320/Jan+2009+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296950902920875394" border="0" /></a>nderwear? (Pull ups at naps and diapers at night)<br /><br />I went to bed every night feeling totally accomplished and fulfilled. I wasn't frustrated, didn't feel the need to complain, there was no yelling, no crying, in fact, I enjoyed every minute of it. I had several positive and uplifting conversations with Dave. Don't get me wrong, I would <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 102);">NEVER</span></span> want to live without Dave but I felt pretty good about the fact that I could. Now it may have had something to do with the fact that my baby is almost three and I do have a 12 year old who helps a ton but still, I felt pretty good. Five kids is five kids.<br /><br />Dave got home late Friday night and I was thrilled to see him of course. I told him all went well and everything was fine. We went to bed that night (so happy to have just Dave in bed with me) and I have to admit I was feeling kind of smug about my awesomeness. Then I looked over at him. I saw him on his knees and I knew. That was why I had such a great week. I knew that every night and every morning he was gone, he was on his knees and that is why things were so good for me at home. He was <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSpwL_2Zl_Th0vVG0_PXxD8ehCr8BF6O9vFxTS9OTM3_jK-v3kivINxUD0HchlYbDLUwz4SyD5dLleHpDlpfjieHv4XlHST4pw0hyphenhyphenz1AE-tZaGrhnD3tPyFtVmAOPOnhb94_Hb4R8Ieo_/s1600-h/Family+pictures+08+082.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWSpwL_2Zl_Th0vVG0_PXxD8ehCr8BF6O9vFxTS9OTM3_jK-v3kivINxUD0HchlYbDLUwz4SyD5dLleHpDlpfjieHv4XlHST4pw0hyphenhyphenz1AE-tZaGrhnD3tPyFtVmAOPOnhb94_Hb4R8Ieo_/s320/Family+pictures+08+082.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296953637400451026" border="0" /></a>STILL taking care of me. He is "<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">mantastic</span></span>" and he is all mine. Although, he is pretty lucky too. Not every guy gets to be married to someone who can do a <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">PERFECT DOUBLE STAG</span></span> after five kids while holding his hand. Just look at that form, it is pretty rare. The real question is, WHY would I do a double stag? The answer is, because I can! It was fun too. I probably couldn't do it again though.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-3810664907611909332009-01-27T09:39:00.000-08:002009-01-27T09:48:58.521-08:00Wash or not?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IvtjhEPcRNVGi_CTtzZice3Xu0iJEx01BnZ06E3MYYSEWZp6VQlljUGgxLUildo8q1-udro6XR8n7BhAy9iQDLqz8pkK0Cmf6AqwNJ-O6-zyINYI4aWgyVPWJS-vSop22xlgqyr5K3pc/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 83px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IvtjhEPcRNVGi_CTtzZice3Xu0iJEx01BnZ06E3MYYSEWZp6VQlljUGgxLUildo8q1-udro6XR8n7BhAy9iQDLqz8pkK0Cmf6AqwNJ-O6-zyINYI4aWgyVPWJS-vSop22xlgqyr5K3pc/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296031822498797394" border="0" /></a><br /><br />To wash or not to wash. I was told by Rebecca (and not in her indoor voice either) that I do laundry WAY to often. I do laundry twice a week, Monday and Thursday. At least one whole load is made up of blue jeans. Every day my boys wear jeans, they put them in the dirty clothes. I, personally wear my jeans at least twice before I wash them but maybe that's because they stretch out the second day. Rebecca says her girls wear their jeans more than once before they wash them so what do you think? Are a 10 year old and 12 year old boy crusty enough to wash their jeans every day? That is the question. I know I am a little hyper-sensitive about clean clothes so...<img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joy/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" />Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-22918112242205474502009-01-06T18:32:00.000-08:002009-01-07T10:41:52.562-08:00Any day, is a Beach Day!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOu5yGTZT8Mcw8zetixXVdhqRtlniSF1X5gCoWaxbfu1z23YV3CC9ZTwXJJUZfeIunAcYh8NniAdVBWxLX53E_qSkxLZUsef1yLRGn558YNLaxat_IzXzIfrDKH1jxaGu7OK6mx3F8ooPG/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+050.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOu5yGTZT8Mcw8zetixXVdhqRtlniSF1X5gCoWaxbfu1z23YV3CC9ZTwXJJUZfeIunAcYh8NniAdVBWxLX53E_qSkxLZUsef1yLRGn558YNLaxat_IzXzIfrDKH1jxaGu7OK6mx3F8ooPG/s320/California+Jan+2008+050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288620725662397410" border="0" /></a><br /><br />No trip to California can ever be complete without a trip to the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3f_SeT14RsIPq9f5xJ_mZJd_CALyY_5HSMf_WWlpiQ843Q70Om73uG7M-EInunI4lf5WCM3g24RSH1Nm2bDqp1LEh2jr2j81sm17c98zZgzDLM5RdgM2F1cWNUezGmF_cjoFg8nhF95g/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA3f_SeT14RsIPq9f5xJ_mZJd_CALyY_5HSMf_WWlpiQ843Q70Om73uG7M-EInunI4lf5WCM3g24RSH1Nm2bDqp1LEh2jr2j81sm17c98zZgzDLM5RdgM2F1cWNUezGmF_cjoFg8nhF95g/s320/California+Jan+2008+033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288623518553181474" border="0" /></a>beach. Rain, shine, or <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFkwsQBA-pdJ-2eBK6dtBHKljCfcgv9XnkaSNgRaujX4uvGy4xOZuTn4udRLwmyJkpDKMLM8iEB17OvPmRBGWTjZxtUWlB-SKBF-R-zyKO1ADdoeXSKvjvHv8rss_CwLsra6CQTTyhmLf6/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFkwsQBA-pdJ-2eBK6dtBHKljCfcgv9XnkaSNgRaujX4uvGy4xOZuTn4udRLwmyJkpDKMLM8iEB17OvPmRBGWTjZxtUWlB-SKBF-R-zyKO1ADdoeXSKvjvHv8rss_CwLsra6CQTTyhmLf6/s320/California+Jan+2008+035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622888135896530" border="0" /></a>FREEZING cold, we will be there! I told my kids to get their <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCmMSBcgHJIZ6iJAa9C_VMJpEKjqJ-HwERJyj51tu-qepFcIVFKNSvIXSNVbwm9zpyUcDhwfn6-vykjoOQ1CoKvSz2hr3qrAlWJO3qKS3rhC4gjQ3tnUh6fX61LJXU2SEcrbnpxiPSBay/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCmMSBcgHJIZ6iJAa9C_VMJpEKjqJ-HwERJyj51tu-qepFcIVFKNSvIXSNVbwm9zpyUcDhwfn6-vykjoOQ1CoKvSz2hr3qrAlWJO3qKS3rhC4gjQ3tnUh6fX61LJXU2SEcrbnpxiPSBay/s320/California+Jan+2008+047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622626354924978" border="0" /></a>swimsuits on and my <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtMb2Ijkmm8QHpHOL8WwFcfOrHWppvJitjl0FyHMU3p93JVzmEWOHlLSlLuHwRDoeRHBbupzltmmTAlaRZyOqtmAktKx8LqqKP8nT8pS1Hzk8Mezo_nmtcH0EhOtfLzrndkBuZJr1z5sF/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+054.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtMb2Ijkmm8QHpHOL8WwFcfOrHWppvJitjl0FyHMU3p93JVzmEWOHlLSlLuHwRDoeRHBbupzltmmTAlaRZyOqtmAktKx8LqqKP8nT8pS1Hzk8Mezo_nmtcH0EhOtfLzrndkBuZJr1z5sF/s320/California+Jan+2008+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288622209842822098" border="0" /></a>brother in law, Austin said, "the water is freezing, there is no way they are getting in the water." I just said, " I know my kids and they will get in at least to their knees and I don't want sandy, wet pants." He still said, "no way." Sorry to rub it in Austin. Not only did they get in up to their knees but they all got in ALL the way. Jarem's full body dunk was not on purpose, poor kid. He got totally blind sided by a huge wave, along with Cole. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkCIUoOYxV47WqpN4DmlcSuxWpEtfZfZlodH9lJtO4lS_dDzL6CLdvR1uax-zo_VA7bI8ZlGFuThkUST7vROUY0iIRWsPqbJIe8qA4f5j-Vz5y20_7RqiVBvSD9jqFQ18IizyGV_M4Ay9/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+060.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkCIUoOYxV47WqpN4DmlcSuxWpEtfZfZlodH9lJtO4lS_dDzL6CLdvR1uax-zo_VA7bI8ZlGFuThkUST7vROUY0iIRWsPqbJIe8qA4f5j-Vz5y20_7RqiVBvSD9jqFQ18IizyGV_M4Ay9/s320/California+Jan+2008+060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288606524657067090" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxcnu8MuNqTuT5tJ88Rp4x25a7alWRG8SZGDt-UxPuDkYMegvJd5zB02FR80mxsS6vqVKgtjhqwWplGikRhc0c2fQ8OQmav8mHugolWyu3sZwEdoHOMUyTPqOkd4zmG-CibSL-qQuavdo/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+053.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxcnu8MuNqTuT5tJ88Rp4x25a7alWRG8SZGDt-UxPuDkYMegvJd5zB02FR80mxsS6vqVKgtjhqwWplGikRhc0c2fQ8OQmav8mHugolWyu3sZwEdoHOMUyTPqOkd4zmG-CibSL-qQuavdo/s320/California+Jan+2008+053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288604364270725954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8z6iUxN_Dl3d16GjWW45zu0i_KGNz92BOQKZR1MkjFuYhIbdebHcnqMRzcadnXcL-i40zGAbKxh2fHjMp-VsQxnTr3cHAw1ZAOa6dGTPncnbUD8lXVxL-5TSgia4bshIuVvO5jQrr04b_/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+036.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8z6iUxN_Dl3d16GjWW45zu0i_KGNz92BOQKZR1MkjFuYhIbdebHcnqMRzcadnXcL-i40zGAbKxh2fHjMp-VsQxnTr3cHAw1ZAOa6dGTPncnbUD8lXVxL-5TSgia4bshIuVvO5jQrr04b_/s400/California+Jan+2008+036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288377850065978098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDaxLI_KqqBG6uTkxjdnAgaw36lzADp0FjbE8Vb2T8KR_lnPrZHMII9ksXiOVaN15h5sonI7b1OkchalBDZwxoULL-hHvbrOouJ96XQcnLh24qqNhvID0ThBZDxVqAFHUqlxmH2nYd_Lu/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUDaxLI_KqqBG6uTkxjdnAgaw36lzADp0FjbE8Vb2T8KR_lnPrZHMII9ksXiOVaN15h5sonI7b1OkchalBDZwxoULL-hHvbrOouJ96XQcnLh24qqNhvID0ThBZDxVqAFHUqlxmH2nYd_Lu/s320/California+Jan+2008+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288604201826907666" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The beach we were at had a big sand ledge that the boys liked to run and do front flips off of.After the kids tried to thaw out from getting wet, they walked down the beach to see the "big rocks". I let Dave go with them because I was freezing and hey, if you've seen one big rock, you've seen them all. Besides, someone had to keep Gramma Storer company. They were really cool though. The kids had a blast climbing all over them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7xmwZMLpOjFpdw0A2-TYwtA9OQGHy6L6NAGSwBECW7xuKA1rUpwMOWWJ55g-wMCIjPesvPtJGvXSYa29s5GOPyMCff35wPHWnm5jiHy-5UVh9R13YxbXlRY7_WLwVC84seOXLxlY3GFd/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+038.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7xmwZMLpOjFpdw0A2-TYwtA9OQGHy6L6NAGSwBECW7xuKA1rUpwMOWWJ55g-wMCIjPesvPtJGvXSYa29s5GOPyMCff35wPHWnm5jiHy-5UVh9R13YxbXlRY7_WLwVC84seOXLxlY3GFd/s320/California+Jan+2008+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288603359717291922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Not pictured are Jared, Wendy, Cole, Kate, Lizzie, Sarah, Austin and Gramma Storer. Apparently my camera gravitates to my own kids. I'll try to be better at that. Also not pictured is the attack of the birds. The kids (oh yeah, and Dave, his dad and Austin) had to take random food and stand in the middle of the beach and try to get the birds to take the food from their hands. There were a million disgusting seagulls everywhere. Sarah was terrified, she has a thing about birds. Personally, I don't see the attraction to a bird attack but hey, whatever. The kids love it and Trigg can spend hours feeding and chasing the birds. When it comes to the beach, we mostly only see his back side. We had an awesome picnic lunch and a fabulous time!<br /><br />Here is Jarem after his encounter with the wave. Like I said....freezing. But was it worth it? Heck yeah, worth every minute!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUV1ISDzPuWXWcU3BsPw5PD4tUDPnphIvY1xLc5SJMZLGXR92k6qeKcxMpDxmwJHosV6CRF5uH494k5OH5TlRl2_9eWiNgtk9p1u8tPsTJ5DBtzpLi8DuYGVVm5oavzih1yF9dEov86kO/s1600-h/California+Jan+2008+043.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUV1ISDzPuWXWcU3BsPw5PD4tUDPnphIvY1xLc5SJMZLGXR92k6qeKcxMpDxmwJHosV6CRF5uH494k5OH5TlRl2_9eWiNgtk9p1u8tPsTJ5DBtzpLi8DuYGVVm5oavzih1yF9dEov86kO/s400/California+Jan+2008+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288376636473024434" border="0" /></a>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-42328790925719798892008-12-27T09:51:00.000-08:002008-12-27T10:05:50.358-08:00WARNING: Christmas picture overload!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UwfuiDolYnsT4duMASn664zF3WAOyCCXf5Cxf5rRFiyvEYCMydP73nOm5bomCEMaR56L1zChsy_PVuEBE-JIjmCvdGVPS3el9TgJBb38ohntb3-Z0PNM9_2riURnSjgaMc63gDQ2tW8U/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UwfuiDolYnsT4duMASn664zF3WAOyCCXf5Cxf5rRFiyvEYCMydP73nOm5bomCEMaR56L1zChsy_PVuEBE-JIjmCvdGVPS3el9TgJBb38ohntb3-Z0PNM9_2riURnSjgaMc63gDQ2tW8U/s320/Christmas+2008+035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284529407757949442" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYJTJGKfrzWw9W39uHyweaPdXx7DNcpR-mWUs2RK4-CNjumBh2YiAbnkXtOc5ZPcFrynwob8vUTE6EMcJxoPJRr6QscJNuXFOsUApzjtHyKJkwFCVtpLQd5IXc5NG_CNVk_A_KNURopTc/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYJTJGKfrzWw9W39uHyweaPdXx7DNcpR-mWUs2RK4-CNjumBh2YiAbnkXtOc5ZPcFrynwob8vUTE6EMcJxoPJRr6QscJNuXFOsUApzjtHyKJkwFCVtpLQd5IXc5NG_CNVk_A_KNURopTc/s320/Christmas+2008+037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284529258470987170" border="0" /></a>This is Christmas Eve with our brand new Christmas PJ's. I know, the boys' are not very Christmas-y but I figured they wouldn't wear matching ones with the little kids but I've been inspired. My sister Jannalee makes matching pajamas for all her kids. ( well, the bottoms anyway and then she alters a t-shirt to match the pants.) This is what I'm going to do next year. Those boys are going to match and wear snowflakes or Christmas trees and they're going to LIKE it! Here is your own personal look at Scary House. Sadly, these pictures pretty much show it all except the kitchen and my bedroom. We had dinner over here for Christmas and I was apologizing for having such a scary house to meet in. Callie's husband Bryce said, "It's totally fine, it's just like going to your Grammas house or something." Maybe a Gramma that has lived in the same house for 30 years and never remodled ANYTHING! Christmas in the Scary House was not as bad as I thought. As long as you have family and remember what Christmas is all about, you can pretty much love Christmas anywhere. Not that I will EVER do it again.<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-88777777907491972802008-12-27T09:40:00.000-08:002008-12-27T09:51:23.225-08:00A visit from Santa<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4T4A2LJNqT6_ubc7QVDKXEfsArTC27UJ9LQtTw0jr1y8Qg6RIGGVAiRM1J5-4-oVleVMoHI4vlm6AsZ02ek8APGs_935mDk1Gl2dgJnvf9mTJLV9t8GvIfeppTvzqFeXzajusbseOaiI/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4T4A2LJNqT6_ubc7QVDKXEfsArTC27UJ9LQtTw0jr1y8Qg6RIGGVAiRM1J5-4-oVleVMoHI4vlm6AsZ02ek8APGs_935mDk1Gl2dgJnvf9mTJLV9t8GvIfeppTvzqFeXzajusbseOaiI/s320/Christmas+2008+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284527421815828194" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGo3nvSdNHpu7y5x6Vkd166NKRzMghVPwPZSaKLVTSCJwcV5I9NkrVXwJaj7d5VQBtmVvfIhyphenhyphenWXkymSuJ0Olp03mJ8gyxua6FIQa5Bbgk8eS3KfPS2idc2Ppp6caehgYcybFJiQKyBWEaj/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGo3nvSdNHpu7y5x6Vkd166NKRzMghVPwPZSaKLVTSCJwcV5I9NkrVXwJaj7d5VQBtmVvfIhyphenhyphenWXkymSuJ0Olp03mJ8gyxua6FIQa5Bbgk8eS3KfPS2idc2Ppp6caehgYcybFJiQKyBWEaj/s320/Christmas+2008+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284527076883081858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScjM6jgaIMVl9wH65-21rEpYbnR4Zzq5311X9c4iGCy8J7LbMd41FhU6Vco-Sob7t4mCyuoEriiQ0LfdtvNJjSnpYYdpWdcyi0QOBKZbIquO8ia74S3FCbNqm69JvBmVkN98xAjH0iHTx/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhScjM6jgaIMVl9wH65-21rEpYbnR4Zzq5311X9c4iGCy8J7LbMd41FhU6Vco-Sob7t4mCyuoEriiQ0LfdtvNJjSnpYYdpWdcyi0QOBKZbIquO8ia74S3FCbNqm69JvBmVkN98xAjH0iHTx/s320/Christmas+2008+032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284527214141489042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Every year the Dunyons (Dave's family) gets together right before Christmas and we see if we can get Santa to come to us a little early. The kids did and Nativity and Janee won the role of Mary. I think Jarem and Trigg were supposed to be shepherds and Tate and Kevin were too cool to dress up and participate. It's always tons of fun. The kids love to get together with their cousins, see Grandma and Grandpa and get a present from <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHf51EegzVibj7TqFsXujRh0x_50IdrZAHExX0pTSs1FxYGVQMbpyC5r2tPaVO_XJZwb3I5p6BDy8DVxFVGU7P49hM-5OzdruF7NBoz9W6IszMl2Iqi3F7G-tbVv-f0I2ELtNoxbzNlXIj/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHf51EegzVibj7TqFsXujRh0x_50IdrZAHExX0pTSs1FxYGVQMbpyC5r2tPaVO_XJZwb3I5p6BDy8DVxFVGU7P49hM-5OzdruF7NBoz9W6IszMl2Iqi3F7G-tbVv-f0I2ELtNoxbzNlXIj/s320/Christmas+2008+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284526356285381506" border="0" /></a>Santa before Christmas day. Jarem made sure to tell me that this was only "Santa". The real Santa is "Santa Claus" and these Santa's were only called "Santa." Whatever.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-71618075009100637082008-12-27T09:29:00.000-08:002008-12-27T09:40:23.968-08:00Christmas Slumber Party<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5kN-V3OF40nPo3fBwJTb6AaBfQh_5txI5R4iRLjLetEp3PBKCmptNXjHFy8pmE5fHGhQwvhiXW_cv7bjAhnZcX1jIhCtf_ue35jQcAcauilNlzE0AE0ve3WEN4Z4uQ5IVdJg5c8Dk531/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK5kN-V3OF40nPo3fBwJTb6AaBfQh_5txI5R4iRLjLetEp3PBKCmptNXjHFy8pmE5fHGhQwvhiXW_cv7bjAhnZcX1jIhCtf_ue35jQcAcauilNlzE0AE0ve3WEN4Z4uQ5IVdJg5c8Dk531/s320/Christmas+2008+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284525333517338866" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqk9x6imbT8Eq2qsdDXLHZp3oszvTnJXID6dFQ1XBu7X-xxap31SLSoEqBzXfdzGTrT2AFfzTWgu8ramctEt04f214bmcab4Bqsno25VZKxbeFoidvrtYLP0GvjGH55ayf4OsKwhTaRvyk/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqk9x6imbT8Eq2qsdDXLHZp3oszvTnJXID6dFQ1XBu7X-xxap31SLSoEqBzXfdzGTrT2AFfzTWgu8ramctEt04f214bmcab4Bqsno25VZKxbeFoidvrtYLP0GvjGH55ayf4OsKwhTaRvyk/s320/Christmas+2008+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284525199082000738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GRNPGURKFKrWYR4hvkiJjsxSV-MUkV-fLLD3hKGsAUL3ykKypAeCHIMYTVsfXS_Zc-jq-HRpwtSbuej8K-jVA7MXlmHQJvjjOJT7u049AUZDfuf2nDHwLTwMYBq5cUdm82OyjW61DyS2/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GRNPGURKFKrWYR4hvkiJjsxSV-MUkV-fLLD3hKGsAUL3ykKypAeCHIMYTVsfXS_Zc-jq-HRpwtSbuej8K-jVA7MXlmHQJvjjOJT7u049AUZDfuf2nDHwLTwMYBq5cUdm82OyjW61DyS2/s320/Christmas+2008+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284524232748696082" border="0" /></a><br />This is our Chritmas slumber party. Dave said his family used to take a night and sleep out under the Christmas tree. We decided to take a Saturday night and make a movie night of it. Everyone got their pads and bedding and slept in the family room that night. We watched Santa Claus 3 and Horton Hears a Who. The kids had popcorn and wanted hot chocolate too. No, I didn't sleep out there, tempting, but no.Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5493823097855438564.post-41261699349167106202008-12-22T09:47:00.001-08:002008-12-23T09:01:32.145-08:001,001 TrucksThis is Tate when he was 2. This child LOVED his trucks. Especially trucks with hooks that he could put a trailer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4hYepNHWDy7G_vCdCjGhgN0Ce9Hzb6gi6jWAmaUTJtzcO7enxycvGWGDcgUEPodXLsWP6eG7kmwEUCmRdcY5O7IfQreh75YoalXWu9Wg7XzBJNJ9yT3i44QYQtbfeY8ASB0P0mEzHgkL/s1600-h/Tate+at+lake+powell+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4hYepNHWDy7G_vCdCjGhgN0Ce9Hzb6gi6jWAmaUTJtzcO7enxycvGWGDcgUEPodXLsWP6eG7kmwEUCmRdcY5O7IfQreh75YoalXWu9Wg7XzBJNJ9yT3i44QYQtbfeY8ASB0P0mEzHgkL/s320/Tate+at+lake+powell+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282674575066794834" border="0" /></a> on and haul things. In this picture he is backing the boat down the ramp, just like he sees his Grampa do. I think we spent half of our income on trucks and trailers back then. We spent hours (okay, maybe 20 minutes) in the truck section looking for trucks that had hooks and trailers, tent trailers, motorhomes (yes, they do make them) and anything else he didn't already have. He used to lay on the floor for housrs (yes, it really was hours this time) and drive his trucks. Hook up the trucks, load the jet skis, drive the truck all day long. I have to admit, it gave me a soft spot for trucks. Once he carried around the same school bus for 4 months. It dropped in the water at Lake Powell and Dave's WHOLE family was in the water diving to find the bus. Luckily we found the bus, Jared's glasses were not so lucky. When I was cleaning the toy room once I said to Dave, "I will NEVER buy another truck for as long as I live!" T<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9345qKGv9oimXd3XSd0c2iNBtrcWGh5HS_dIxBJSKSS1yk_B263R5K1PfQC8_iS4oTuKGh75Zchc_yqY12Mh4j4TsFhzsiPQn0j-TuWQ7k6GzCxq9aRT0coJ26oF8-E_KzVtMcDU5M-jD/s1600-h/December+2008+030.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9345qKGv9oimXd3XSd0c2iNBtrcWGh5HS_dIxBJSKSS1yk_B263R5K1PfQC8_iS4oTuKGh75Zchc_yqY12Mh4j4TsFhzsiPQn0j-TuWQ7k6GzCxq9aRT0coJ26oF8-E_KzVtMcDU5M-jD/s320/December+2008+030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282768489367598098" border="0" /></a>hey were everywhere, and no, I can't get rid of them, I'm attached. So here I am, 10 years later, 2 boys later, and again, I am standing in the truck aisle, looking for the trucks with hooks and trailers because I have another boy who loves his trucks. I love to watch him laying on the floor, pulling his trailers, hooking up his trucks, looking for tent trailers and motorhomes, that I still have....Seeing him there takes me way back to when I had one little Taters and that was it. That is why I spent all of Triggs Chritmas budget on trucks with trailers. Then I spent some of the rest of the kids budget on a huge, Trigg-sized, battery powered truck that he will probably mow over poor Addie with and probably Jarem an<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyZaHHO_Rqyy0y3EoIF00J5JatL6uLYFUGqQ1gynaupQOnEwD-nQ-MJAMptovm3JowjyFvTgg20CtnzJyBN65f3ZQodGm4s5rsVNjfjRXpJB0ZzltyC_DAMuiSXL66nsglh_0s3BzIgsP/s1600-h/December+2008+023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyZaHHO_Rqyy0y3EoIF00J5JatL6uLYFUGqQ1gynaupQOnEwD-nQ-MJAMptovm3JowjyFvTgg20CtnzJyBN65f3ZQodGm4s5rsVNjfjRXpJB0ZzltyC_DAMuiSXL66nsglh_0s3BzIgsP/s320/December+2008+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282767379454333794" border="0" /></a>d Dax too. Too bad I can't transplant Tate's personality into this one too. Then maybe I wouldn't have to worry about one of those wonderful trucks flying across the room at some poor child's head. ( Sorry Addie!)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlhr05ir0Jm-zTkvuEGH8oThk0_Ssrx5u9cZyRs5XS3FVn8HSLfWc-sNUxwITt4Q_kC5ZxQhDvmqd96-DjWL7KazdWyma4ZQbdU2sVCHNqmWzOseAq80c8RdjEAhV5FYUBfmfUWIyxI_Y/s1600-h/December+2008+021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlhr05ir0Jm-zTkvuEGH8oThk0_Ssrx5u9cZyRs5XS3FVn8HSLfWc-sNUxwITt4Q_kC5ZxQhDvmqd96-DjWL7KazdWyma4ZQbdU2sVCHNqmWzOseAq80c8RdjEAhV5FYUBfmfUWIyxI_Y/s320/December+2008+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282768355904533730" border="0" /></a>Joyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06330507598841902016noreply@blogger.com5