tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40674544470861073902024-02-02T03:04:36.295-07:00Saying Something (Because I'm Sure I Have Something to Say)by Katy<center>Just stuff. A little of this and a little of that with a generous helping of nothing mixed in. I am a firm advocate of being able to say a lot without really getting anything said. Sometimes it is funny and sometimes it's not, but really, being a mother of 6, I am lucky that I remember not to tell you anything, so that's something.</center>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-8040559721308954842011-02-28T15:06:00.006-07:002011-02-28T15:31:14.775-07:00I'm not really sure what my style is but if I had to choose, it would be messy and half a...........As I always say: <br /><br />“If you're going to fail, fail spectacularly.” <br /> <br />And that is exactly what I have done. It was my intention to provide, for your amusement and reading enjoyment, a weekly update of the traffic jam (that boarders on pileup accident) that is my life. I have, however, managed to allow several months (and a few pretty good stories) to go unreported. I can tell that you all have been waiting with bated breath for me to update this blog so I figured in the moments between starting a new episode of Rugrats season 7 (yes, there are 7 seasons and those babies never seem to grow up. That is until my kids discover Rugrats : All Grown Up which I will do almost anything to keep them from discovering) and digging through the cupboard for some form of chocolate that I can shove into my perpetually chubby face, I would jot a little something down to alleviate my guilt and put an end to my failure.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB97oCfRoAgCcy78b341Avsi3_0xqXkm30lYfMMUqr1d3l5ca5aofe1hKkBbd_qE6wdLbPkIrCeJEbjxKDoE0CPYXQ6roimTamnIvTekcmkx3rIWZhyxJCGyiH-7X8wcDvuO3OadvoxiU/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB97oCfRoAgCcy78b341Avsi3_0xqXkm30lYfMMUqr1d3l5ca5aofe1hKkBbd_qE6wdLbPkIrCeJEbjxKDoE0CPYXQ6roimTamnIvTekcmkx3rIWZhyxJCGyiH-7X8wcDvuO3OadvoxiU/s400/images.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869847731716034" /></a><br />This year I have decided that I am going to be crafty and creative. I feel that we all exercise some degree of do-it-yourselfedness (not a real word but creativity has to start somewhere), but I am not shooting for the catchphrase “it's been Katy-ed.” I'm looking for questions like, “Did Katy do this?” (only without the disbelief that you all undoubtedly injected into the statement when you repeated it in your heads). I want to wow people with my “natural eye” and my….whatever else needs to be commented on so that people think I'm crafty. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzik2_rLZVXHCJv-jFAzgazdFPE0aj_pLBzOR_MijaW8DjHmHia5KBd7aV_zPt_nE4GdTCX5Yki-NUZxWqnrZQwQ87r4KC8u6yvNinXB4TdjWyZcjqXPDiHS5t7PGcG8eqUW6SdiIAhr8/s1600/P5220067.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzik2_rLZVXHCJv-jFAzgazdFPE0aj_pLBzOR_MijaW8DjHmHia5KBd7aV_zPt_nE4GdTCX5Yki-NUZxWqnrZQwQ87r4KC8u6yvNinXB4TdjWyZcjqXPDiHS5t7PGcG8eqUW6SdiIAhr8/s400/P5220067.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578868343172430834" /></a><br />Now if the end result of this is in fact craftiness, all the better. But I am not above settling for the perception of craftiness (hopefully without “borrowing” items that other crafty people have created and calling them my own, but the year is young and nothing is off the table at this point).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_2YMBbme8FqvteHwFdB_ENZXRVP6toMtpvYwjt2S1q5eYUZJjyAGTt6lQrrBh4WMsboJ7Fx6N75DHE3vuttTn_YUpSo2OP3iSV8GxgvLqvw3Mo6nmGokhv4g26ISoxaWbKlDhOjwk2w/s1600/Carroll+Family+Birthday+Board.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_2YMBbme8FqvteHwFdB_ENZXRVP6toMtpvYwjt2S1q5eYUZJjyAGTt6lQrrBh4WMsboJ7Fx6N75DHE3vuttTn_YUpSo2OP3iSV8GxgvLqvw3Mo6nmGokhv4g26ISoxaWbKlDhOjwk2w/s400/Carroll+Family+Birthday+Board.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869853615015426" /></a><br />Why this sudden desire you wonder. Well, I'm not getting any younger and if I wait much longer people will just think that I have too much free time on my hands and set the expectation bar higher. <br /><br />When all your kids are in school and you have no job, well of course you have the time to perfect handmade items, because it is either that or daytime TV (or get a job but I don't want to put any ideas into the wrong heads). But when you have 3 kids at home still and you whip out almost anything homemade you garner both envy (not the “7 deadly” type of envy just the “keeping up with the Carrolls” kind) and admiration (even if your creation is borderline crap because people have lowered the bar a notch for each child). <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHWTq1NGcNixZQgo_m8KbY1rJ31GsH6XllqQo2vnmviZXddrW5PlOPx8nkxdvrs7pbWEpShZdPU03mG4XjRnJKjQ3rgJv6pE2FQRmySevltVu4qhtB93Gq4J2X8NueuClvLA-_wjPe9A/s1600/Brown+Eyed+Girl+copy_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHWTq1NGcNixZQgo_m8KbY1rJ31GsH6XllqQo2vnmviZXddrW5PlOPx8nkxdvrs7pbWEpShZdPU03mG4XjRnJKjQ3rgJv6pE2FQRmySevltVu4qhtB93Gq4J2X8NueuClvLA-_wjPe9A/s400/Brown+Eyed+Girl+copy_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578868338625993634" /></a><br />I'm not totally shallow, some of this goal is borne of necessity. I do have more free time then money right now so if I want some things, I have to figure out how to make them myself. But I also have some major projects coming up and I could use all the confidence I can get. It's that whole fake it till you make it mindset. If people refer to and think of me as crafty, then maybe some of that mojo will flow from the gods of hot glue and glitter right into my bones (I'm pretty sure that the gods of hot glue and glitter are not doctrinally based so let's just file that under “personal doctrine” OK?).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5EB79G4lfCTe3Exw88RSDVMNdT47AlZd-Nsy9K6PS0nz076oimPLdItTdt7e18fJSCIF41XpsMkzSOg53XBEY2nM7-4Pf972cS6hVxTflIGGlOIxo1t3sETp5pqx67m6cbX6cexv5WY/s1600/IMG_5983.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5EB79G4lfCTe3Exw88RSDVMNdT47AlZd-Nsy9K6PS0nz076oimPLdItTdt7e18fJSCIF41XpsMkzSOg53XBEY2nM7-4Pf972cS6hVxTflIGGlOIxo1t3sETp5pqx67m6cbX6cexv5WY/s400/IMG_5983.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578868348319411186" /></a><br />I am in the process of injecting myself into my living space (that is creative speak for picking out paint for the walls). So far I have almost finished a bedroom and the downstairs and completely finished 1 bathroom. They look pretty good (if I do say so myself but it really would make me feel better if you said so as well. You know, to inspire the a fore mentioned mojo). The problem is that I like color but I'm not looking to live in an upscale Tijuana neighborhood. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tuI7S2__iLAmGo8-LvpQi752GFDE1v484U_0_j46VRP0MWrCNIf7KdNMkQ9Y0TNZm9qjAmSiT4vJGyyVB2v6-5XoOuinhtoLqgYWRhRR_3nIkMs6X7orn57qGjbEu-L8oxVEFKVYBE8/s1600/colorful-houses-in-guanajuato-thumb9838139.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6tuI7S2__iLAmGo8-LvpQi752GFDE1v484U_0_j46VRP0MWrCNIf7KdNMkQ9Y0TNZm9qjAmSiT4vJGyyVB2v6-5XoOuinhtoLqgYWRhRR_3nIkMs6X7orn57qGjbEu-L8oxVEFKVYBE8/s400/colorful-houses-in-guanajuato-thumb9838139.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578865594743467426" /></a><br />I can stick to a color pallet but I don't want too many colors and I don't want the same old colors on every wall (even if I did buy a 5 gallon bucket and I am so cheap that I am having a hard time leaving any of it in the bucket at all because I want to get my money's worth). I am torn between personal taste and resale appeal and I think that if I were crafty enough, I could bridge that gap. So basically, I am driving my husband crazy and spending a lot of time at Home Depot with their paint chips.<br /><br />On a side note, it would make my life a whole lot easier if they would just hand me a paint chip book. Instead, I have collected one (or more) chips of every color they have ever invented. I feel like they are watching me every time I walk out of the store with a new color section. I'm just saying, you made the rules, don't eyeball me if I have to live by them.<br /><br />I am also seriously considering re-staining my cabinets until I have the money (in 30 or so years) and the gumption to replace the whole kitchen. But then I run the risk of ruining the cabinets so it is going to take way more confidence and craftiness to tackle those (and maybe the god of flower arranging as well). For right now I am sticking with the baby steps of wall paint and branching out into the world of digital scrapbooking (because my paper stuff if piled high in the “crap room” and I am afraid to go in there) and natural light photography. One day I will conquer Photo-shop if it kills me.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtK9br_TRm45dGbNGZ_wFli3Tbauf3rAivUlUymNo4I8ZJTb3FidAcEw5trqCf5hj4GCzW913FlfWooYZQSfGiVv7_0u-7QlHoo_MB2xFdQvSvYKJ6i9g8DO2JmQdg2Q6O8L1qCJHBt8/s1600/Vannah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQtK9br_TRm45dGbNGZ_wFli3Tbauf3rAivUlUymNo4I8ZJTb3FidAcEw5trqCf5hj4GCzW913FlfWooYZQSfGiVv7_0u-7QlHoo_MB2xFdQvSvYKJ6i9g8DO2JmQdg2Q6O8L1qCJHBt8/s400/Vannah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578868352397579138" /></a><br />Well it is time for another Rugrats so I will have to leave you with a final thought. <br /><br />Blue based greens do not match red based browns (and I will be painting later on this week if any of you out there are looking to do a ton of hard and relatively unpleasant manual labor for little more than a “than you' and a glass of ice water or the Dr. Pepper that I failed to give up).<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-91879547305457390212010-09-28T15:22:00.010-07:002010-09-28T16:57:19.400-07:00We've got all kinds of crazy up in here, but that's normal (& if this is normal you really don't want to see crazy). Then again, I don't know you.This has certainly been a big week. I have managed to shower at least once and visit the bathroom unaccompanied twice (to be fair I did have a conversation with my 2 year old through the door, but I don't count that because I couldn't understand anything she was saying). I know, things like this just don't happen to me, and it's only Tuesday. I wonder what other exciting things time has in store. All I know is that I am due. This week has to better then last week, otherwise there is a good chance I will skip next week all together.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCF8DzoMkD8pEOBo5-XG7IIq9106a7sOtRCX-Zq_Dc_ddRkT2h__LsAwLB68sLLFDli9gghtl0QuxsPl3Wl_oE_v9MM8L9ZuMWe2pFWGnLhq5Hc63oqSamsEEBExkkIcgwPTgPIKwWUs/s1600/IMG_5525.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCCF8DzoMkD8pEOBo5-XG7IIq9106a7sOtRCX-Zq_Dc_ddRkT2h__LsAwLB68sLLFDli9gghtl0QuxsPl3Wl_oE_v9MM8L9ZuMWe2pFWGnLhq5Hc63oqSamsEEBExkkIcgwPTgPIKwWUs/s400/IMG_5525.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522097879743290674" /></a><br />This weekend I planned a fun filled family activity for “Free Museum Day”. When you have a gaggle of children, you look forward to things like “Free Museum Day” because it allows you to see how the other side lives. The side where everyone gets their own drink and they know how things that aren't on the “Value Menu” taste (I'm not knocking value menu's but, as it turns out, veggies on burgers make a difference). So, as any good, frugal, crazy person would, I looked at the list of participating establishments and picked the most expensive. We went to the Cosmosphere and Space Museum in Hutchinson, Kansas. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfx64lHI7vP1Ah4q5jwrr5EpQch2BVIIvlrWu9__L8hah2rxeGN_PfK7Pk1GXk3Qn1-wwFAHt8107ARoysQQuJ09d5a5AqYG3CW-tx9RmcTnJBXK4E07kxNLfp5vuWMxT7x9fL0S1mCs/s1600/IMG_5534.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfx64lHI7vP1Ah4q5jwrr5EpQch2BVIIvlrWu9__L8hah2rxeGN_PfK7Pk1GXk3Qn1-wwFAHt8107ARoysQQuJ09d5a5AqYG3CW-tx9RmcTnJBXK4E07kxNLfp5vuWMxT7x9fL0S1mCs/s400/IMG_5534.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522098604722166898" /></a><br />It is about an hour's drive west (or north or northwest. Actually, I just followed my mapquest directions, so I have no idea what direction it is. I could ask the GPS in my car but I secretly think that my car's GPS is not as smart as other navigational aids. It is not that I have anything against my car, or Fords, or the color white. I just have not had enough experience or time with the car to have that level of trust with its mechanical devices. I'm not saying that I won't get there someday, I'm just not there yet. I'm taking baby steps. I will program in the desired destination and mapquest directions as well. If they are the same then my trust level increases. If they deviate then I am torn, because I'm not sure which way to go. I generally end up heading home because I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings. None of this was ever an issue with Nuvi. Maybe that's where all this confusion comes from. The car (Pearl) couldn't keep Nuvi safe (Nuvi was stolen this past summer in Park City, UT) and therefore, I am unsure as to her level of security and ultimate care for me and my family. Wow, I really feel like I've had a small breakthrough here. But I will still keep my Mapquest bookmark) and that is fine with me because I am as much about the journey as the destination. My husband is the “hurry up and get there” type. We came upon a discrepancy between the paper and GPS directions so I opted for the posted signs and veered from both reliable routes, which took us right through Yoder, KS and afforded us an extra half hour of pleasant views and conversation (the kids spent most of the time slugging each other and tattling, but I tend to block that type of stuff out when I drive. Which might be why I like to drive. Look, another breakthrough!).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWw-MoNDeUaA_ZNtlFiRRIZT-E4EMysd56b6JJKAi12muUkt4LC3dWvBFJp2l3CWtTLU4oq3JPhvHntlVlX40HnhReSpyLWfDMx7t8F-c_4cIBZRMYYumyqgHqNHakBx7wNKLE4bnnZ4E/s1600/IMG_5563.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWw-MoNDeUaA_ZNtlFiRRIZT-E4EMysd56b6JJKAi12muUkt4LC3dWvBFJp2l3CWtTLU4oq3JPhvHntlVlX40HnhReSpyLWfDMx7t8F-c_4cIBZRMYYumyqgHqNHakBx7wNKLE4bnnZ4E/s400/IMG_5563.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522099290296792178" /></a><br />We just chit chatted about this and that. I mentioned that I really like Kansas, but it would be nice to go home some day (Texas). He made an off hand comment about how I need to learn to trust the car more and how it might not be too long before we get back home. I asked what he meant and he launched into the intricacies that go into the way the car makes driving decisions and how, as long as I use my personal common sense, I should always get to wherever I'm going. Whatever.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuI6GrHjbPPrzC5lN1dzhKvnOyoyKA8xm0ElIqcNEy1bWpV4_nH294cQnbw3vefjbecgHafdzsNBulWB0V40Ev5b7wLxuMPchFvxrPnPVX8-iOMEsJigSxSNLA44TSN4hIVN_RW3yEUpA/s1600/IMG_5583.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuI6GrHjbPPrzC5lN1dzhKvnOyoyKA8xm0ElIqcNEy1bWpV4_nH294cQnbw3vefjbecgHafdzsNBulWB0V40Ev5b7wLxuMPchFvxrPnPVX8-iOMEsJigSxSNLA44TSN4hIVN_RW3yEUpA/s400/IMG_5583.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522101036828712194" /></a><br />I stopped into Burger King for some lunch. There were no less then 11 cars in the drive through and the lobby was empty. Deciding that there was a good chance I would shortly be inhaling over 1100 calories, I volunteered to speed things up by heading inside to order. This was a mistake. I quickly ordered and waited as all 11 cars plus and additional 3 were served before me. While I waited, I picked up the local newspaper because the headline caught my eye. My husband's company announced late Friday night that they would be laying off 350 salaried workers just in time for the Holidays.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qnz2ZDBRb7dQrKkSwTAL_1-xGIyszpuQhHwBjtigxVLv_btW1ZOfnCGSuoN_918ROVJuTKkVLLoLNDCNHSOKxlwKNZJdZH5pMJHDd6Ric7y1AKFBV32GoICzX49FW8YJdY1ZYcVsd04/s1600/IMG_5629.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6qnz2ZDBRb7dQrKkSwTAL_1-xGIyszpuQhHwBjtigxVLv_btW1ZOfnCGSuoN_918ROVJuTKkVLLoLNDCNHSOKxlwKNZJdZH5pMJHDd6Ric7y1AKFBV32GoICzX49FW8YJdY1ZYcVsd04/s400/IMG_5629.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522105465462595138" /></a><br />Why do they announce layoffs, I wonder? Wouldn't it be more humane to announce the cuts as you hand the poor sucker a pink slip and have security remove him from the building? As a corporation, you sort of show your hand with the announcement, leaving yourself open for all sorts of bad stuff. If I were an employee with any confidence in my abilities and value (luckily I am completely void of any marketable skills, and therefore overflowing with confidence in my capabilities to do anything and everything put before me. Having not had a job in the past almost 13 years, I know of what I speak, and everyone should absolutely do as I say I would if anyone was crazy enough to employ me in a salaried position), I would immediately start looking for a new job as soon as the announcement was made. If I was as good as I thought I was, even better. I'll have a new job in no time. Aren't these the “good” employees that the company might want to keep? Don' they risk losing all their skilled and valuable work force as opposed dropping the dead weight? Conversely, if I were a slacker who knew my number was up as soon as the layoff was revealed (because I know, through my vast amount of experience in the workforce, know that there are a fair number of these characters to fill seats), wouldn't I attempt to make sure I didn't walk away empty handed (I assume if you are unethical enough to collect a paycheck for merely showing up, then you would have no trouble pocketing a stapler...or the latest project file...or a computer)? I'm just saying. I know that there are severance packages to tide folks over, but the mental anguish of wondering for a month or two if it is your job that will be cut is sort of cruel. Having survived 3 layoffs with a previous company and 5 or 6 with the current, I can attest that being the spouse and dependent of an employee that may or may not be on the chopping block, this situation is no picnic. In fact, I can be downright unpleasant during these periods. Then I remembered that my sweet hubby was very intent upon me learning to trust the car.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l03BpKhj89khB0jRnWsKAnga6_w__52z4CoZ26fnxaLgGeaMivtiu1dqmNsAvhCxTB_Z3LhTcbVSVslR5F5KOtlsPMnzJdbAOAoDRDCeDRkZvOJv4iUx8DMhkKHem6z_gAOlMledEks/s1600/IMG_5619.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l03BpKhj89khB0jRnWsKAnga6_w__52z4CoZ26fnxaLgGeaMivtiu1dqmNsAvhCxTB_Z3LhTcbVSVslR5F5KOtlsPMnzJdbAOAoDRDCeDRkZvOJv4iUx8DMhkKHem6z_gAOlMledEks/s400/IMG_5619.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522105454325092914" /></a><br />I decided to cut him a little slack and let him think that I didn't know as to not make the stress worse on him. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me. He was just being the smart man that he is, and looking to avoid my tension and stress related mood swings. Five minutes later we pulled into the Cosmosphere.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidXfD0P5IVahd0bVdYjq7RgZ_XabT8UyLIgMyfTed1M1N5xJ_ENE9uYo0jQNYSnVNZpsXifv9QS07M-PWCJVI3rd76SRSsNUGe3kyolHKdX9XWRpvOzkX5JhgRe1DNuRQq95rQEg-Yps/s1600/IMG_5634.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgidXfD0P5IVahd0bVdYjq7RgZ_XabT8UyLIgMyfTed1M1N5xJ_ENE9uYo0jQNYSnVNZpsXifv9QS07M-PWCJVI3rd76SRSsNUGe3kyolHKdX9XWRpvOzkX5JhgRe1DNuRQq95rQEg-Yps/s400/IMG_5634.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522107415148849954" /></a><br />The kids were so excited that we decided to have a seat in the shade of a rocket and enjoy what might be the last fast food we get to partake of for a long while. But I better make sure they eat it slow because I don't want them wolfing it down and growing too much because shoes for growing boys are expensive. What if the get some of it caught in their teeth requiring several hundreds of dollars worth of dental attention that we may or may not have dental insurance for? They might as well enjoy the weather outside because they all need new jackets when it starts getting colder and those aren't free. So they'll have to stay inside to save money. But it will have to be cold inside too because heat isn't free. In fact, I did feel a chill moving in. We might need those coats sooner rather then later and the car needs new tires. Plus I broke the disposal last week and have been hiding the leaking from my husband with a bucket under the sink hidden behind cleaner bottles until a time when I could blame the breaking on him. What if that doesn't happen before he gets canned? (Look, I have never hidden the fact that I am a little crazy. These are real thoughts that passed through my head as we looked for a shady spot and sat down to eat, along with several others that are way too out there for me to share with people I might still want to like me later). As soon as we sat down, my sweet, oblivious (and a little devious) 5 year old knocked over the 32 oz Dr. Pepper that was the only hope of calming the crazy before it breached the surface and gave me away. I hadn't even taken a sip.<br /><br />I lost it (a little).<br /><br />They was yelling. There was pacing. There was shaking. There may have been some crying. It wasn't until I was chastising my 5 year old through tears for ruining my lunch that I realized I had not held it together as well as I would have liked to. My husband was just staring at me. All I could say was, “ You have seriously underestimated how badly I wanted that soda.” We finished the meal drinkless, in silence.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IJG6MQ2YDdJ8wBy-ToFKMSslVf6pn0gPu0gYSk9IcvtyOYc0nqbCKPj48GJqps2BmRVAMk4LvcONCfAPwPQ4fJPsr1AEh3b7r9mpmbtrD7LZXriQ9bbkSmfp7dO8d-X1KnywXV8uPUo/s1600/dr-pepper-logo-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 327px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4IJG6MQ2YDdJ8wBy-ToFKMSslVf6pn0gPu0gYSk9IcvtyOYc0nqbCKPj48GJqps2BmRVAMk4LvcONCfAPwPQ4fJPsr1AEh3b7r9mpmbtrD7LZXriQ9bbkSmfp7dO8d-X1KnywXV8uPUo/s400/dr-pepper-logo-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522108938242982610" /></a><br />My husband, in a move that goes against his every instinct (He doesn't like to spend money or support my caffeine addiction) purchased me another soda in the museum 5 minutes later. I felt so bad as I drained it the first time and got up for a refill.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXwPvqeLcGL5i7p4nvXRbWG6Q4WZrJ3Uaj4GuCjEHDtYM5hyphenhyphenYxy3a9vkJxufm8lIE0fGBUXZUPbg5HKAehxVKFGP4VsOkCq4Od14TbrpRueSQUXqMM7vZFRMfuDJq8f81hLfHhfbstmo/s1600/IMG_5694.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXwPvqeLcGL5i7p4nvXRbWG6Q4WZrJ3Uaj4GuCjEHDtYM5hyphenhyphenYxy3a9vkJxufm8lIE0fGBUXZUPbg5HKAehxVKFGP4VsOkCq4Od14TbrpRueSQUXqMM7vZFRMfuDJq8f81hLfHhfbstmo/s400/IMG_5694.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522108947456573394" /></a><br />Once the calm was ingested, we had a rather enjoyable day. I recommend the Cosmosphere to any science or space enthusiast. It was fun and I almost forgot about the possibility of impending poverty. I was almost cheerful...until we got home and I remembered (too late) that I forgot to empty the blame bucket under the disposal.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJtBhad7I7Y5DlkSFmso_SADZSVNPS_0mFtZyVbX1WBGw9jK9ZWfPwslLPbKHbJ2XTw7gyRKLw8sNp4ZPyeQMK9fmm48_ihyhlopXqHXxsqAc_gewA6zQ5vkKfFPLTKIQDIpBXYObktI/s1600/IMG_5662.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJtBhad7I7Y5DlkSFmso_SADZSVNPS_0mFtZyVbX1WBGw9jK9ZWfPwslLPbKHbJ2XTw7gyRKLw8sNp4ZPyeQMK9fmm48_ihyhlopXqHXxsqAc_gewA6zQ5vkKfFPLTKIQDIpBXYObktI/s400/IMG_5662.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522108116794984274" /></a><br />We are installing the new disposal this evening and I have a secret stash of soda under the stairs. Good luck to everyone fighting the crazies inflicted by the announcements at both Hawker-Beech Craft and Cessna this past week. I hope you handle it better then me.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-73939343342161473952010-09-21T15:02:00.006-07:002010-09-21T19:44:57.313-07:00Once I lose a little weight I will put up a "Before" picture, then shorly follow it up with another "Before" until I feel ready to accept the "After".I had finally had enough of watching my midsection (and let's face it, the rest of my bottom half as well) expand. I took drastic measures and began frequenting the gym. I'm no “gym rat”, but I do a fair impression. I spend 3 days a week at the gym for two hours, and then ride a few miles on my stationary bike at home. I have been doing this for the past 2 weeks and I have dropped 5 lbs. That's right, 34 hours equals a bag of potatoes and a disgruntled chubby lady. <br /><br />I realized early on that I like to eat, so I knew that dieting was completely out of the question. I can cut back but really, 2 cookies and a cupcake is hardly better then 1 cookie and all the crumbs plus my mini cupcake and whatever the kids left sitting for too long. No, for me, I am willing to spend more time exercising and sweaty then to stop eating all the yummy things that make me happy. I know that 5 lbs is nothing to sneeze at and I was very happy with it up until this past weekend.<br /><br />This weekend we went to one of those Wellness fairs at my husband's work. You know, those early morning events that force you to walk two miles before rewarding you with a T-shirt and a hotdog lunch (complete with chips and 2 sodas). There were several booths set up to help “educate” us on healthy lifestyles (but instead of an education, I went home with pencils, pens, pedometers, cups, candy, gum, bags, bears, balls...all in multiples of 6). Usually, at the outrageously early hour of 9 am on a Saturday, I would skip the booths and head home for a nap but there were door prizes. Last year at this shindig we won our Alaskan cruise and I wasn't about to walk away from another shot at free junk that I may or may not want or need but I am not against winning. This year we only won a fishing pole but my kids were still pretty excited. I did come to the conclusion that hanging around for the prize drawings is way more fun when you win the Grand Prize as opposed to leaning on your fishing pole watching someone else walk out with stuff you would gladly trade it for, while trying to control 6 kids and a husband who wanted to leave 2 hours ago. But that's not the point.<br /><br />While perusing the various vendors, I encountered a dermatologist who ruined my life. He was very nice and helpful. He lured me in with miniature candy bars and talk of outpatient procedures and then pulled out his “special” scale. It looked harmless enough and what did I have to fear? I may be a little rounder then I used to be, but I conveniently bring 6 excuses for that with me every where I go. Plus, I just lost 5 pounds. Bring on the crappy “special” scale. I will dominate it (or so I thought right before it punched me in the face and made me cry like an obese baby).<br /><br />I had to take off my shoes and socks so it could send some sort of current through my body to get a variety of measurements. I stepped on while wearing my rose colored glasses only to step off and have them snatched off my face by an anorexic devil woman who promptly smashed them into tiny pieces along with all my self respect and danced in the shatters mess without even mussing her hair. I wanted to knock her over (which I could have easily done considering I was quite a bit larger then her). Heck, If I put all my weight (according to her stinking print out) behind it, I could have knocked her through several walls and possibly a time zone. Who would have thought that a small slip of receipt paper could shake my foundation to the core?<br /><br />The results were correct (according to all 4 beanpoles working the station). It confirmed that I currently weigh 178 lbs (Take a breath. That is not the shocking part. I knew that part. I had a baby 5 months ago for Pete’s sake. I am still nursing. How can a person birth one little human after another and not hold on to a little padding? Stop judging me!!! I thought we were friends.). Apparently 68 pounds of that is water, 40 pounds of that is bone and structural necessities, and (here's the Earth shattering part) the remaining 70 pounds is a yummy mixture of Dr Pepper, Cheetos, and various brands of Chocolate, ice cream, and fast food. Seventy Pounds. <br />70 pounds. <br />Seventy lbs. <br />70 lbs. <br />No matter how you put it, I have an eight year old worth of fat hugging my curves. Wait, I have an eight year old creating my curves. No wonder I'm so lumpy. Have you ever seen an eight year old color? Half the time I can't even tell what it's supposed to be! You see what I'm saying right? After that news five pounds seems like a joke. It amounts to little more then a healthy pee before weighing myself. 34 hours of work for what, a trip to the lue? What is the point? Why even bother?<br /><br />Needless to say, my weekend was ruined and it took 2 cupcakes and a HoHo to calm me down. Once I was calm (and my husband was able to pry the pastries out of my hand), I decide that I needed to reprocess the information and form a new battle plan. I like exercising...sometimes. It gives me some time away from the kids and really it makes me feel better. I mean, before that scale sucked all of the hope out of my life, I was really happy with the 5 pounds. Plus, in reality, I'm not Biggest Loser fat (I know, I applied and was rejected). I am slightly over my recommended weight and about 30 pounds from my ideal weight. Even setting my expectations lower then 5 pounds in two weeks, I will only have to keep it up at this pace for 3 months. I am a champ at maintaining my weight. So, all I need is a new game plan and perspective.<br /><br />Here goes...I have a 3 prong plan designed to attack all areas of weight and attitude. It is truly a holistic approach, leaving out no area that can be exploited for weight loss.<br />New Perspective and Plan: <br />1. Drink Less water and pee more. (I otta be able to chip away at that 68 lbs in no time.)<br />2. Sweat more (no problem, since I had the baby I can't seem to stop sweating. Gotta love the untold joys of motherhood)<br />3. Drink more soda (I've heard that the carbonation in soda eats away the calcium in your bones thereby making them lighter.)<br />4. Stop lifting heavy things (as muscle weighs more then fat)<br />5. Realize that they must have left out information (I now can accept the 70 lbs, if I account for all items included. Brain matter, not being a STRUCTURAL necessity or water, must have been included in the third classification. Now lets be frank people, I am a genius, so it should not surprise or upset me that my brain weighs far more then the eight pound average touted in Jerry McGuire. I am quite sure that mine is well into the 25 – 30 lb range and that is a good thing. So to lose weight in this area, I will continue with what I am doing in my time at the gym because I now realize that I have less to lose because I can't be less smart.).<br /><br />Now before you, my dear reader, freak out. Remember that I am smarter then most people (I wasn't joking about that part so stop smirking) and I know that my plan is slightly flawed. I realize that if I follow it I might kill myself (or at the very least, suffer through some grapefruit sized kidney stones). But after the “education” I received from that horrible dermatologist, I had to laugh so that strangers wouldn't see me cry. What does he know really? Is a dermatologist even a real doctor? Plus who cares anyway, it's not like you could tell the difference. With a little tutorial and Photo-shop, I could fool the world.<br /><br />I hope your weekend was better then mine. I did end up with a fishing pole.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-41658513855379888642010-09-16T13:47:00.005-07:002010-09-16T14:06:58.544-07:00Would you say un-motivated or under-motivated? Forget it I'll just put lazy.Hello faithful reader (although it has been so long since I have updated and I guess you are more of a faithful checker then reader, but I'll give you props either way because you are the only person who will take the time to sit and check...or read). I know I have been on an extended break from the blogosphere but I've had more pressing issues to attend to. <br /><br />First off I managed to successfully birth another child. If you look to your right you will notice that another little person, strongly resembling the other little people, has made the picture strip. I guess he looks a little like me too. At any rate, I now have 6 bundles of joy that require my time and attention.<br /><br />He was born in late April, just in time for the rest of them to join us full time for the summer. I hate summer vacation. If I had known how hard it was on my mom I never would have enjoyed it as much as I did (although I was such a snot, I may have enjoyed it a little more). I go from being mom the locator, ATM, taxi driver, organizer, dresser, donate-ore, signer, bather, alarm clock, and room mother to mom the entertainer (because I don't care if they get up, get dressed, or can find anything clean in the summer). And I would rather do all of those other things then entertain my children for 3 months without electronic support (TV, DVD, MP3, Wii, Computer...). It was as if I had another child and all the sudden my life wasn't so funny anymore. I now know that it was all my husband's fault. My hair has begun falling out by the handfuls and I recognize the person staring back at me in the mornings. So I would say I am back to normal. The kids are back in school and now I have time to try to salvage the carpet that I know is beneath the piles of clothes, toys, and stains but instead I sit here. Utterly without motivation. <br /><br />It is interesting to me that some things come to me so easily and others I have to fight for everyday. For instance, I have become quite good at falling asleep anywhere at anytime. I mean I am getting narcoleptic good. But I have to fight for a quality night sleep. I am so good at knowing what I want to say but I have to fight almost everything in me to say it in a way that doesn't leave people weeping in my wake. How did this happen?<br /><br />I used to fight sleep but now, when I lay down I can't get my brain to shut off (I know I'm sleeping because my children keep walking in to talk to me) but I wake up more often and am more tired then when I began. Maybe it isn't so much that it is different then it used to be. Maybe I am just noticing it now. When you are young and single, the world is your oyster and everyday can be an adventure. When you are an old married person, every day's adventure seems like a very familiar mix of baby poo, crying, tattling, cooking, and a pronounced lack of water interaction. All things requiring patience, kindness, and love all of which are way easier to manage if you have had more then two continuous hours of sleep.<br /><br />The thinking and saying one is a little harder. Like all people, I have a constant barrage of thoughts tromping through my head. Some are nice, some are not so nice, and some are downright mean. I do have a few genuinely kind and complementary thoughts but only around the holidays (not even I am immune from the holiday spirit) but let's focus on the norm. As I have gotten older (and tireder) a few things have happened. <br />1) My thoughts have gotten more harsh and definite<br />2) They get to my lips faster then they used to <br />3) I realize the value of good friends <br />4) I don't want to hurt people on purpose like I did when I was a horrible teenager <br />5) I hate apologizing. <br /><br />Put all of these things together and it makes for one hot mess. It's like I think of something mean and in an attempt to head off the problem I blurt out an apology for something I haven't even said thereby giving my thoughts away and seeming like a crazy person all at the same time. <br /><br />The presence of six kids doesn't help my case either. My oldest has been around me long enough to know what is going on so in order to keep him from explaining it to the witnesses, I have to bribe him. I now own stock in Coke. It seemed like the best way to make it a win-win (win) situation. My only saving grace is that if you are one of the good friends, you know me well enough to recognize the inner struggle and earn yourself a bribe of your own. What would I do without good friends that don't require and apology (aside from hang out with only my kids a who lot more)? In the end I have adopted the practice of sarcasm with a smile. I have found that I am very good at keeping people guessing as long as I am smiling. <br /><br />The point is that I am crazy and unmotivated and therefore back. Now that I have a little free time I will be attempting to update this blog at least once a month (no point in setting an unattainable goal). In other news I (and by I, I mean my dear, sweet husband) have potty trained the 2 year old. I only share that info because she is now flashing me to inform me that she has misplaced her “pannies.” Another side-note is that I hate the word “panties.”<br /><br />Have a great couple of weeks and I'll see you when I see you.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-76436524521536731192010-01-27T10:20:00.000-07:002010-01-27T10:21:01.751-07:00Happy New Year (now let's talk about my personal views)Hello all. Again I have taken myself quite a little break in between updates. I’m not sure that has as much to do with my laziness as it does with the sad fact that there is really nothing big happening in my life. That is actually a good thing, because all too often I commentate on the ways of the world that irk me in one way or another (which for a while there seemed relatively easy to do) but now maybe this hiatus means that I might actually be a little happier in my daily routine.<br /><br />As you know, we have entered the new and terribly exciting year of 2010. This has not stirred any new musings on its own so I am forced to discuss myself (which I hate to do because it tends to interfere in my delusions of near perfection and above upper average intelligence). Usually I look to family or close friends to bring me down a notch or two, but in this New Year and the start of a new decade, I have decided it is time for me to see what makes me so much fun to dwell on.<br /><br />The big news this year (and the past) has been the economy. I have been very blessed to be supported buy a very smart man that I have taught (completely inadvertently) to be extremely patient and an all around peace-maker (which also makes you an asset in almost any environment). These, and other wonderful qualities, have kept him employed (which has kept me and my compulsion to eat out every day because it makes me feel like I have control over my life but unfortunately not my weight). In spite of the employment situation, we are joining the rest of the country in cutting back on our spending. I have cut back on school fundraisers and the personal beatification process (which I was never really into before but, by saying things like this, I go from having “crack whore” roots to being trendy with my new fiscally responsible root choices). I have also made up for decrease in monetary payments to the school with my physical presence. I feel that being there and pitching in more then makes up for the money (but again, I do tend to think highly of my amazing skills). Other parents however, have not followed my lead (and I love to lead).<br /><br />In my community, there are many people who have been laid off in the past few months. Some of them are actively searching for jobs and others have hit a wall and are taking some time to reevaluate their purpose in the greater scheme of things. None the less, volunteerism at the school has not increased while the need greatly has. I am on the PTO, site council, and the room mother for 2 of my little’uns. As I was planning the last “Holiday Party” (which I think is the new PC term for all holidays but in this case refers to Halloween. We still invoked the traditional spider/bat/witch motif but refrained from encouraging children to enjoy the candy they were inhaling because it defines and could encourage children to enjoy dressing up and begging for candy door to door as it will eventually lead to the corruption and downfall of the human race. You know just like prayer and speaking of God…Ever) I decided that it was not fair to ask a few parents who were assumed to have the means to provide snacks and treats for the class. I instead, broke all of the classes needs down into groups that would not cost any parent more then $2 or $3 to provide. I clearly thought this was a genius idea. Unfortunately, not everyone shared my views. While every parent stepped up and fulfilled their assignments, there were outside naysayers that claimed that there are those who this put undue financial stress on. I was told that by definition, volunteering was optional and I was making participation mandatory. I however, think that being a parent makes participation mandatory (I could be wrong but it is highly unlikely). I want parents to remember that they have kids and that sometimes kids cost money ($2 to $3) and have needs (Halloween Parties and the like). I want parents to realize it is time for a little family involvement. I really think that if we are going to find a way out of this economic and political mess, we have to start in the home with a happy and strong family. My way of promoting my views is forcing parents (all parents) to bring homemade cupcakes or themed pencils to school on behalf of their children and not allowing them to assume that someone else will pick up their slack and provide. (My bigger plans are to take over the world one classroom at a time but it is all about baby steps.) <br /><br />I am also out trying to peddle ad space on the back of a t-shirt to buy playground equipment and make up for budget shortfalls (so if you know anyone who might want to give me $$$$ let me know). <br /><br />I have now realized that I have a 4 year old and an almost 2 year old downstairs who have been without adult supervision for far too long and have gotten quiet. I have no doubt I will find a lovely little surprise down there waiting for me so I must end my tirade here. Check back in another couple of months because I feel a rant about how it is not the governments’ job to make sure you are employed coming on. I hope that all of you had/have an enjoyable and prosperous new year. I’m out.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-17325403568010096542009-11-13T13:55:00.007-07:002009-11-16T11:07:33.458-07:00If I buried all this junk, would somebody dig it up somday and think it's a treasure?Time sure does march forward doesn't it? I posted my last update, bought a house, moved into that house, started the kids in school, went on a cruise to Alaska, started unpacking, continued unpacking, got called in by the principal, kept unpacking, discovered that mowing my new lawn takes 5 hours, accepted that I will never be done unpacking, gave up unpacking, complained that my house is always messy and cluttered, nursed a few kids through the swine flu, found out that my family was coming for Thanksgiving, started unpacking again, dug up 7 Halloween costumes, planned a few Halloween parties, flipped out about the endless task of unpacking, wasted a decent portion of my life on FaceBook to include Mafia Wars, threw a few boxes away without even opening them, and the next thing I know it has been 4 months since my last post.
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<br />Here we are, firmly entrenched in the “Holiday Season” and I am not sure what is up and what is down. I have really loved being in the new house. I have room to pretend I have fewer kids then I do and I can hide quite effectively if needed. On the downside, I have realized that getting almost everything you want in a house still does not guarantee life long bliss. For instance, 3 bathrooms. You would think that with 5 kids, 3 bathrooms would be the answer right? No. I have 3 boys and when you gotta go you gotta go (and we are happy when they make it to the nearest toilet). The problem still remains aim and focus. Now I have 3 bathrooms to clean and 2 of them are open to the public (meaning when you come to visit, there are 2 bathrooms I must keep semi presentable for he viewing and urinating public and my boys still have no shame). I should just lay yellow tile and caulk with yellow caulk and save myself the trouble and embarrassment.
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<br />Also there are the stairs. Yes, I have space to send children away and somewhere to hide the mess and noise but I have to climb those stairs about a million times a day and usually I am carrying my weight in children, groceries, or trash. I have lost my cruise weight (I know, I'm amazing), but I should have the most well defined legs in America by now (but I don't). I am also struggling to master the art of air conditioning. If it is hot upstairs it is cold downstairs. If it is warm downstairs it is super hot upstairs. What the crap!!!!
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<br />I am very pleased to have a yard again. And people, this is not an ordinary yard. This is a yard on steroids (when compared to the 3 ft we had in AZ). It is big and fenced and pretty and green with trees and everything. Welcome back yard work. At the rental, someone else clipped, trimmed, and mowed. All we did was send our kids out to break the fence, wander off to the neighbors and dig holes for no reason at all. Here, Dan has taken maintenance seriously. There are lawns to mow (2 times a week in order to keep up with the neighbors), edging, fertilizing, weeding, pruning, raking (darn seasons), watering, seeding, and so on and so forth. Dan gets home from work and heads outside to work on “his yard.” I'm really starting to think he has a problem with the clutter inside. Pretty soon, I'll start taking it personally. And in the summer it is worse because we now have a pool to maintain.
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<br />I do need to acknowledge the good times we have had in the past 4 months. We got to take a once in a lifetime cruise through the inner passage of Alaska. It was peaceful and beautiful and I would love to take my kids and show them the wonder of the world around them. We also have finally gotten settled and are not feeling so transient anymore. The kids love their new school and I feel like it is a really good fit for them. We still live in dread of the pink slip, but that has slowed down at Dan's work and now that he won't let me watch the news before going to sleep every night, I am sleeping a little better.
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<br />Right now I am just trying to find places to shove junk so that when we do have guests, they are fooled into thinking that we have at least got ourselves a little bit together. Because everyone that knows me knows that I am all about putting on a show for the neighbors ( right, because the constant yelling at the children and fighting of the children can be explained away by the volume of the TV. My extensive hat collection is just because I like hats. And the fact that I won't let anyone past the entry is because I don't want to disturb my children who are diligently engaged in their studies.). If you can help me in this endeavor, drop by anytime. Don't bother calling (because I can't find my phone and my kids don't give me messages anyway. Plus, I will forget.). We prefer drop ins anyway. That way there is an excuse for not having a spotless house (because 5 active children isn't enough of an excuse).
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<br />Overall life is pretty darn good. Everyone is well now and Danny is employed. We will be missing our second planned yearly cruise (because while we are pretty sure his job is secure we aren't willing to bet $1000 right before Christmas on it.). I guess we will just have to live like the common people who only get to vacation once a year (Oh I don't know how they can stand it). But that does not include those that are in the mood to take a trip to Kansas and experience the beauty of the central plains. If you come I will even clear a path so you can venture past the entry hall. That is how much I value friends and family. Happy Thanksgiving (and belated Halloween, Veteran's Day, Labor Day)!!!!<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-37565781433169448002009-07-20T08:54:00.003-07:002009-07-20T08:58:34.640-07:00I don't know exactly what is in there but it is one of my most prized possessions and I am about 2 seconds from throwing it out. Or not...I'm back. Sometimes you have to vent before you can let it go. And since I did that (in a little under 4 pages of craziness at 3 am for everyone to read and ask about) I am now back and ready to tackle new craziness (that I'm sure I will or have somehow brought upon myself).<br /><br />As many of you may (or may not) have heard...We Found a House!!! We put in the offer and the inspection went great. We got the financing and have figured out how stressful it is to stop spending money so you have 20% plus closing costs to put down at closing. But it was all worth it, because we close on Aug 14th and get to move into a very nice house that will actually be all ours (in 30 years when we finish paying the bank). While living in the duplex has been OK, I will not miss the noisy night activities of the neighbor or his dogs recent decisions to poop everywhere in the yard (or their owner's decision not to clean it up). In all of my excitement and stress over actually finding and getting the house I managed to overlook the fact that must now pack, AGAIN. <br /><br />You would think that this is not such a big thing due to the fact that our garage is stuffed to the point of exploding with junk we didn't bother unpacking when we got here the last time. We have spent the last 7 months feeding our family of 7 with 8 plates, 8 bowls, 8 spoons, 8 forks...(you get the idea. The reason for this is that WalMart sells their junk in sets of 4 and we need 7 so we bought 2 so we wouldn't have to unpack the dishes that were so carefully packed from the first move this year. I still have no idea if they are still in one piece or smashed to smithereens, and I'm really happier that way.) <br /><br />It truly amazes me that even with everything that is still packed, I have so much more to put back in boxes/baskets so they can make the move 10 minutes eastward (as in Eden cause the new house rocks). I find myself wondering if I really need all the crap I have spent the last 11+ years accumulating or should I just chuck it all (and start over because you know I will. Once a pack rat...). <br /><br />So what if I've had to convince my kids that sharing towel is normal, and that shoes are not considered gender specific (even if they are pink). So what if I have repurchased pots and pans (because apparently I need them to cook even if I don't want to dig through 15 boxes marked “Kitchen” to find the perfectly good ones I already had). I think it is really a matter of deciding what you can and cannot live without. For instance, I can live without opening the 6 boxes of my children's toys because we just didn't have the room, but I cannot live without my cell phone (which my children have decided is a toy because there is nothing else to play with and, has had to be replaced once already). I guess the decision there has been made for me. The toys serve the greater good so I have to not only keep them, but unpack them. On the upside, my kids now know that I am serious when I tell them that I will throw all of their toys away if they don't pick them up.<br /><br />What really irks me is the fact that I have not unpacked all of the clothes/shoe boxes. What that means is that I have 4 closets full of clothes and a mound of dirty clothes (perpetually) in front of the washer, but there are still more. I have to get rid of quite a few things because I can't stand the idea of moving dirty clothes to an new clean house. Maybe it is time for a compromise (I'll make my husband move them. He is sort of a germ/dirt-aphobe and how he has managed to live with me all these years is still a mystery). <br /><br />In the end all the stress is totally worth it, because we will be moving from less then 1500 sq feet to almost 3300 and there will be plenty of room to hide all the junk so that I can live another 5 to 10 years without ever having to open half the boxes if I don't want to. I could just leave some of them packed and make sort of a game about moving boxes full of who knows what, from place to place until finally I break down and open them to discover that they have become priceless antiques. I think we have found a winning plan that will enable me to make it through the next few weeks until we finally settle into our new wonderful house. <br /><br />I didn't realize how much I took space for granted (or maybe it is just that I am missing my beautiful blue kitchen that my husband tiled perfectly, exactly the way I asked him to. Or maybe I am missing my girl's room that my sisters helped me paint with pretty flowers that coordinated perfectly with the comforters that I got for their beds. Or maybe it is the high ceilings with crown molding that Danny and I spent months putting up while trying to pretend the piles of molding waiting, lined up in the entry hall, to be installed was an interesting decorating piece and a conversation provoking design choice. But sill there is the office that was built from scratch using instructions downloaded from the internet by my sweet husband with a little help from my dad and his and the skilled texturer that lived next door). Maybe it's not the space alone I missed. <br /><br />I think the reason I am so happy is that I will finally be able to settle in and make it a home of my own (by painting and making my husband spend all of his free time on pet projects that require hours of backbreaking manual labor). Once we get settled, we will have more then enough room for visitors. If there are any of you out there who are longing for a fun filled vacation in beautiful and exciting Andover, KS (a suburb of Wichita) then give us a call, and we'll make sure you feel welcome.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-83414918670467004602009-07-16T22:55:00.001-07:002009-07-16T22:55:44.764-07:00I've heard that a weak flow could be a symptom of several conditions. You might want to see a doctor because I am tired.It would appear that I cannot sleep. I am up at an unnatural hour because I cannot seem to turn off my brain. My husband never understands this because he denies ever being overtaken by the constant bombardment of sometimes random, but always unending rapid fire that causes one (generally me) to toss and turn until they (I) have no choice but to get up and watch a few hour of mind numbing TV until there is no choice but to surrender to sleep (repeat that sentence 5 times fast).<br /><br />I want to sleep. I crave it. I need it. I grow fangs and claws when I am operating at a deficit (which is often but usually self inflicted). This is a proven and indisputable fact. Small children cower and grown me tremble when they see me coming after a fitful night of sleep. (Tonight, it would seem, my inability to sleep has caused me to make myself sound like a wonderful and pleasing individual.)<br /><br />Every night, before I go to sleep, I seize the opportunity to talk with my husband for the few child free moments we enjoy together. Tonight we strayed to a topic that got my mind whirling. He had a conversation today that he found innocuous but I found (in my completely rational female way) to be laced with judgment. We were talking about looking down. (not to be confused with looking up which I find to be a necessary, hope filled, and enjoyable activity.)<br /><br />Just in case you skipped the first few paragraphs of my little schpeel here, I am perfect and completely without flaws (she said sarcasticly), so I assure you that I try with all my heart never to judge. This is not to be confused with my love of holding firmly to my opinions and views while trying, with all that I am, to shove them down the throats of others. I just subscribe to the school of not throwing stones while standing in a glass enclosure of any kind. This may be hard for some people to believe, but coming from where I do, you know without a doubt that it takes all kinds. And being one of a kind (and wanting to be necessary) I try to let you be you without judgment.<br /><br />So this is where I find myself now. Sitting at the computer hoping that by spilling my guts into cyberspace, I will be able to unburden my abnormally large frontal lobes (my brian people) and find sleep. Knowing (as I do) that those that bother reading this know me well enough to chalk everything said up to delirum, I plan on continuing without fear of offense but looking for answers.<br /><br />Looking down is a time honored tradition employed by many due to its effectiveness and high success rate in achieving tears and turmoil. The “down lookers” make you feel like less because you don't seem to have as much. These are people who are stuck in a rigid box that dictates if you don't do things the way they do, you are wrong and therefore deserve to be scorned and ostracized. These are stupid people who have put themselves on a teetering pedestal of their own design, who will fall as soon as they realize that they are not really standing on anything. (Here I go with the judging. I don't really mean stupid. I mean snobby, rude, condescending, boastful, prideful, shallow, spiteful, unkind, mean spirited, hurtful, and small minded...but stupid seemed to be an easier way to express my current feelings even though I know it is not a nice word. It also made me sound like a little bit nicer person who has chosen to hike up that high road. But as we have already established that those of you reading know me pretty well, you might want to grab your flashlights and shovels because I am about to dig a tunnel beneath the low road. Wait. Just the thought of doing that was enough. I really feel a little better so, at the risk of seeming flaky, we are going to hop on the golf cart (because It is always easier to take the steeper route when you don't have to actually walk it.))<br /><br />What do you do when someone that you care about is a judgmental pain in the patute (pronounced pa-toot-tee meaning bottom)? There have be subtle jabs for years that have steadily intensified (undoubtedly due to that fact that I have tried to be completely oblivious to the intended underlying hostility). I am vocal and quick-whited (if I do say so myself), so these types of attacks have little to no effect on me because I try to take it as well as I dish it. The problem is that I have recently found that the offender has changed battle tactics by sharing opinions and misinformation with other people I value. And now the questions have begun, and the looking down has spread. It makes me want to spit (and not just due to an abundance of saliva that I am convinced is a condition associated with aging even though my husband is trying to convince me that it has more to due with the bucket of Sour Punch Straws I got for my birthday. They are yummy and I would live on only them were it not for the sores they create in my mouth after a while).<br /><br />So what do I do people? Do I surrender to my instincts and expose my confrontational nature? Do I put my gift for making people cry on display in open warfare? Do I respond by removing myself from the situation and duck and weave my way out of the relationships? Do I continue as if I am unaware? What do I do? What would you do? What would Jesus do (because, at this point I feel that both cheeks have been slapped)? Why do I even care? I must really be getting soft in my old age (or I just have a very close relationship with the offender/s) because normally I don't care.<br /><br />And so here I am in the dead of night at the end of a week that has denied me sleep repeatedly (I went to the midnight showing of Harry Potter 6 and that sort of messed with my schedule). On the up side I am not fuming anymore (I would classify myself as being at the tale end of smoldering nearing the stage where the boy scouts pee on me to put me out (because that is what boys do at scout camp outs I have recently been informed)). I just wish they would bring on the pee because I am so ready for my bed.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-80067003580401291062009-06-06T09:35:00.007-07:002009-06-06T10:36:00.206-07:00Time Flies (especially when you are sitting on your butt watching 24)I know I know. It has been far too long. I wake up thinking I will have all this time to update the old blog and before I know it I am wondering where the day went and praying that my kids will pass out from exhaustion soon. I have begun to type several times but, where much is given, much is required and I want to make sure that the 4 people who actually read this blog will not feel like the 10 minutes they wasted on me were not the biggest wasted 10 minutes they spent all day. You know what I mean?<br /><br />The problem is that I blinked and all the sudden it is June. The good thing about that is that I managed to tivo the entire 7th season of the action paced, tension riddle, must see event of the fall television season , 24 (I LOVE THIS SHOW). The down side is that I have spent the last 2 and a half days watching 26 solid hours of television (I included the 2 hour movie event: 24 Redemption and I include the time I had to pause the show so I could yell at the kiddos to quiet down and leave me alone. I so need to cancel cable. It might make me a better mother.) and we are now smack dab in the middle of summer vacation.<br /><br />So much has happened and I can barely remember the details of any of it. This year has passed in a blur so far and I only have about 2500 pictures to remind me of my life for the past 3 or 4 months. It is nice to know that I was actually there for the time but now I have to scrapbook those pictures (and there goes another big chunk of my life).<br /><br />The sad thing is that not much really has happened to me personally but, with so many people around me, a ton has happened. So I am going to throw in an update: Karen Roberts style.<br /><br />Temple Trip – Oklahoma City<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I-9dIOIWWsiUd5rjUnwyGaVv6xUV8bTJjslt5ft3RRHoPAD6ZqSCDLQPnRkqAdPVO7ghxsW5l2oM1G7OTaVWRzrAVaLFNLYD8no8fM1E5SmJq-oJfVgV3RlXIvFn9pMxQROXa4w_6Nw/s1600-h/P3200199.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I-9dIOIWWsiUd5rjUnwyGaVv6xUV8bTJjslt5ft3RRHoPAD6ZqSCDLQPnRkqAdPVO7ghxsW5l2oM1G7OTaVWRzrAVaLFNLYD8no8fM1E5SmJq-oJfVgV3RlXIvFn9pMxQROXa4w_6Nw/s400/P3200199.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344258617801322338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghp2TLCK02hWpP05HKE3ehW_-n_STrzojkDfg2FHe9Q6bLf-WQNgGAjASfc9Chb8F5VLuR5oNHjC01V0qlzaaj7F6bc9idMpYlBOoxeIqf2cKNwAWTjJrQcjQPdiVKxPpDgSOunVpjyt0/s1600-h/P3200171.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghp2TLCK02hWpP05HKE3ehW_-n_STrzojkDfg2FHe9Q6bLf-WQNgGAjASfc9Chb8F5VLuR5oNHjC01V0qlzaaj7F6bc9idMpYlBOoxeIqf2cKNwAWTjJrQcjQPdiVKxPpDgSOunVpjyt0/s400/P3200171.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344258610677491058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhid3xRHuyT_Nwam64g6-4J9PXwGus5hyphenhyphenFIPL1g-hczLEUMgf2cCml5m1keKpRL2E5xIlq6V1BPKdWJfrtBJgwXLQo7C4AnjAUinSMRSYKuCZOeTcryQhtObU1eqXhNHsipww0fUYSsBT4/s1600-h/P3200244.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhid3xRHuyT_Nwam64g6-4J9PXwGus5hyphenhyphenFIPL1g-hczLEUMgf2cCml5m1keKpRL2E5xIlq6V1BPKdWJfrtBJgwXLQo7C4AnjAUinSMRSYKuCZOeTcryQhtObU1eqXhNHsipww0fUYSsBT4/s400/P3200244.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344258608832556242" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlPBmGWH7EuEOsuvF4C8YHuT8vj2in6xyJ1kesNNUdtD-4CvXfy4B_1G27MF-dKTlGfK1eFYp5mPjSbRs4W72t_Mf08n-1PJpV4iE-Hbsl-AzHNEQjL9YU3w9rYSv6aF3nw3jG6Y0RSnc/s1600-h/P3200191.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlPBmGWH7EuEOsuvF4C8YHuT8vj2in6xyJ1kesNNUdtD-4CvXfy4B_1G27MF-dKTlGfK1eFYp5mPjSbRs4W72t_Mf08n-1PJpV4iE-Hbsl-AzHNEQjL9YU3w9rYSv6aF3nw3jG6Y0RSnc/s400/P3200191.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344258601727456626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3g6GU6FfbqCt-MsIxXWqDchJyXljepMMrQI8XKfm1HDp-P3GgmvqfyioTntFdCasks9YNf7pLE2a0z79ycjJ3gcw06ZC9dIECq9ko-EHiEJJVTcuQYRlfPeS54ZTUIKXQ-JnGXZ-WpDU/s1600-h/P3200187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3g6GU6FfbqCt-MsIxXWqDchJyXljepMMrQI8XKfm1HDp-P3GgmvqfyioTntFdCasks9YNf7pLE2a0z79ycjJ3gcw06ZC9dIECq9ko-EHiEJJVTcuQYRlfPeS54ZTUIKXQ-JnGXZ-WpDU/s400/P3200187.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344258599580074050" /></a><br />Visit the Chairs – Oklahoma National Memorial<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1u1FMNvmk-HfuomeSRoGCw_yRguFt1n_O9qEST8DFDM1iAZovnhdk3xts527FM3JnEafGr1BLumHzKI4y2mrs8V1qrxQiE_MkUXLYZ1ZtWu1nRQoHO2aC3bMUvhZNFnbsxYLtGJEr5Ho/s1600-h/P3200270.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1u1FMNvmk-HfuomeSRoGCw_yRguFt1n_O9qEST8DFDM1iAZovnhdk3xts527FM3JnEafGr1BLumHzKI4y2mrs8V1qrxQiE_MkUXLYZ1ZtWu1nRQoHO2aC3bMUvhZNFnbsxYLtGJEr5Ho/s400/P3200270.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344256591835442530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSpT2rm_UmyK0Zequ1ghks4C2vbZW3TSN5qrJczAI_ezX0SZy4-qAB0zSH43002Ayqqzcy4W0rMr_Hn3czdmdDcIyjjhqTgBe-bsqvMoJEMGxSG0NEB3DivQ80CNWc1Zv7kvdLcK1LtM/s1600-h/P3200258.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSpT2rm_UmyK0Zequ1ghks4C2vbZW3TSN5qrJczAI_ezX0SZy4-qAB0zSH43002Ayqqzcy4W0rMr_Hn3czdmdDcIyjjhqTgBe-bsqvMoJEMGxSG0NEB3DivQ80CNWc1Zv7kvdLcK1LtM/s400/P3200258.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344256589242190482" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nkvl1J2DS2RqtF11ajCmt57qftHFLZYS2r4ofR0Pyp0C0Q8iqwtOaWaOI5C7IOBOmtCSqjGGMeCUDzCLBxLFeBjnhqFRsqprVGZAlzfHY-CzSZUd_A3Yje5MwaWBedff9bRS_MsNWQ4/s1600-h/P2210063.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nkvl1J2DS2RqtF11ajCmt57qftHFLZYS2r4ofR0Pyp0C0Q8iqwtOaWaOI5C7IOBOmtCSqjGGMeCUDzCLBxLFeBjnhqFRsqprVGZAlzfHY-CzSZUd_A3Yje5MwaWBedff9bRS_MsNWQ4/s400/P2210063.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344256582623252450" /></a><br />Bug Had a Birthday – The Big 08<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgs3fIJLPNQ5YuGmUdDmYrewb8e25p63GkvrerDS0R67eaUQZEcrVNotgpxxnxhwFpRSvDWX-aPnsFehyphenhyphen9oS-iumJI4LFCAbBOckfO2cV7Cc_W7Tl8iZL5tKwxYd6qCJyUP6IrjRQYvk/s1600-h/Picture+033.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZgs3fIJLPNQ5YuGmUdDmYrewb8e25p63GkvrerDS0R67eaUQZEcrVNotgpxxnxhwFpRSvDWX-aPnsFehyphenhyphen9oS-iumJI4LFCAbBOckfO2cV7Cc_W7Tl8iZL5tKwxYd6qCJyUP6IrjRQYvk/s400/Picture+033.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344260057287917026" /></a><br />We Had a Nephew<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAepPE-SehPPDPkPgp4A4yBmAIaEs1HlpXwYGBmsdSTz5hmQOji3ocHPpMzT4fjYPP-nf64tacZDlPwICZXXYsSuELFrgqJ0H4ZcOAY9WC_8mmMhAxYr8neWZdyiR03sT_SxvD991IeSA/s1600-h/Braxton.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAepPE-SehPPDPkPgp4A4yBmAIaEs1HlpXwYGBmsdSTz5hmQOji3ocHPpMzT4fjYPP-nf64tacZDlPwICZXXYsSuELFrgqJ0H4ZcOAY9WC_8mmMhAxYr8neWZdyiR03sT_SxvD991IeSA/s400/Braxton.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344260916150999410" /></a><br />We Had a Baptism<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_QfVb_rRwcaphIIPpIyVUIi3Ox5BXD72mYC4GIWpQFq6KmPeJxjOKGkhosNLHi6luwTOKSPum9N74E2RvAPfHWPT46OwfDX9Qa5-JXhUMT6dUi6XeB1XjAupPOsni1fSa73LJndWGzw/s1600-h/April+2009+173.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC_QfVb_rRwcaphIIPpIyVUIi3Ox5BXD72mYC4GIWpQFq6KmPeJxjOKGkhosNLHi6luwTOKSPum9N74E2RvAPfHWPT46OwfDX9Qa5-JXhUMT6dUi6XeB1XjAupPOsni1fSa73LJndWGzw/s400/April+2009+173.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344261318119606786" /></a><br />Family Visit – We had family in town for the baptism and Easter<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-DPKifskhwgQunQIU8cFSfw3YVE5JsyYMMjwQ6xCVrdzbIqb1fxWq9rKaPv7R8-yNPGsvm93bWsQQao4dG-N5VtF9fbxpBegDRHWcMoktIFYw4Ddnqs8Mg6oinRrjZMu_9Vvet8BPcdA/s1600-h/April+2009+205.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-DPKifskhwgQunQIU8cFSfw3YVE5JsyYMMjwQ6xCVrdzbIqb1fxWq9rKaPv7R8-yNPGsvm93bWsQQao4dG-N5VtF9fbxpBegDRHWcMoktIFYw4Ddnqs8Mg6oinRrjZMu_9Vvet8BPcdA/s400/April+2009+205.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344263443230395026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1dhWGdNH7j8xOqVYkgK1snEoiRQqOgUc1cCiWAghV1xoeeHm-4vMJRXWbwLfwhQ6-_3dV9_sYBn7ENMotuAFoMqIjkqKhFnWmBhM79VLnXfEqLVocVsBbFqEUSf9Z3MbFdCKc6YT4iA/s1600-h/April+2009+191.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN1dhWGdNH7j8xOqVYkgK1snEoiRQqOgUc1cCiWAghV1xoeeHm-4vMJRXWbwLfwhQ6-_3dV9_sYBn7ENMotuAFoMqIjkqKhFnWmBhM79VLnXfEqLVocVsBbFqEUSf9Z3MbFdCKc6YT4iA/s400/April+2009+191.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344263437973930338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWf3G1F_tP13BckZb4H4xfuf5EF3H8TFIoSUMm_z1tmEdtC-WsxHmFbHkNGwYfVDqYCo6nrJTaAfJpsx9RD2FZoQHbflLY9S0n5MichrwW3edBC_2iTvjEBlAM-DZz_vB_j83_fZtx8k/s1600-h/April+2009+184.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrWf3G1F_tP13BckZb4H4xfuf5EF3H8TFIoSUMm_z1tmEdtC-WsxHmFbHkNGwYfVDqYCo6nrJTaAfJpsx9RD2FZoQHbflLY9S0n5MichrwW3edBC_2iTvjEBlAM-DZz_vB_j83_fZtx8k/s400/April+2009+184.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344263436624799314" /></a><br />Hole in the Wall – Ahhh, family harmony.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzgI6txo_LJE_DnafokGYiQ3hUnO3NwpotleRcJpZSiQuwBuS7wvfCYNoN8YwiM6B3z5crsrXqpmMeq3dFUdKkR4Seag3Bj67hVEL7aTF5faPHuLWgHfPkRQMN3Wn56xoHmsiqDtx8d0/s1600-h/Hole+Maker.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 97px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzgI6txo_LJE_DnafokGYiQ3hUnO3NwpotleRcJpZSiQuwBuS7wvfCYNoN8YwiM6B3z5crsrXqpmMeq3dFUdKkR4Seag3Bj67hVEL7aTF5faPHuLWgHfPkRQMN3Wn56xoHmsiqDtx8d0/s400/Hole+Maker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344263802300541058" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqihcfTi8hvdxqI3GltdNN8iPp869lCgD_zMq62ysN6BX9Lam7ND4aW-2DpjfukVTLYXFbLnAi0Fsf3M_LdhJcYa39CL44gPtyBHzZacTXy1q2FudWPqbBlJNacw7zoQdOpPTj-f7mYj0/s1600-h/Hole+in+Wall.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqihcfTi8hvdxqI3GltdNN8iPp869lCgD_zMq62ysN6BX9Lam7ND4aW-2DpjfukVTLYXFbLnAi0Fsf3M_LdhJcYa39CL44gPtyBHzZacTXy1q2FudWPqbBlJNacw7zoQdOpPTj-f7mYj0/s400/Hole+in+Wall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344263797447219970" /></a><br />Tubbs Had a Birthday – The Big 01<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4iDwKzTRR__UooZN8aOC2IKGZAmRgttWywzXyrEXuUZMes2xvJqmSe3khwYRsQGZbiPMZNqCRcBcnl406OuiTtVHDYzvx1LklNE0NoyeG37T2ZMRmYpPeSSQmgHrJwMrwz44C_FOiNY/s1600-h/Birthday_Girl.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ4iDwKzTRR__UooZN8aOC2IKGZAmRgttWywzXyrEXuUZMes2xvJqmSe3khwYRsQGZbiPMZNqCRcBcnl406OuiTtVHDYzvx1LklNE0NoyeG37T2ZMRmYpPeSSQmgHrJwMrwz44C_FOiNY/s400/Birthday_Girl.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344263994819342770" /></a><br />Magoo Had a Birthday – The Big 04<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifufhd29yQNC66cm5GJxvHKA53BjuNfNmBGJIPJWuN6hDWNI6OuGbJnAaYlzNZ2NHcWulgCxK0FVzYuc6OawxX0PrDHSE1QBDRBY68dqULEh7LTot8tBp_vJZIor8v3gcR8GuYVcOcy5o/s1600-h/Milo+B+Day.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifufhd29yQNC66cm5GJxvHKA53BjuNfNmBGJIPJWuN6hDWNI6OuGbJnAaYlzNZ2NHcWulgCxK0FVzYuc6OawxX0PrDHSE1QBDRBY68dqULEh7LTot8tBp_vJZIor8v3gcR8GuYVcOcy5o/s400/Milo+B+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344264196932175938" /></a><br />We Went for a Jog – The Hawker Beech Craft Health and Wellness Fair<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8V3YaO5w7Vln5RWxGwCpof2jTb-oVcdma0h09nOzi3n-K8PaUvKkU4vyHqumKz1NNpcwQNaJIi5978boA5gHbJVUqAFu6Q6gqC4QynCiylR8gPultRCMZy7rlI1KfjnNmP06LC65xHE/s1600-h/Jog.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH8V3YaO5w7Vln5RWxGwCpof2jTb-oVcdma0h09nOzi3n-K8PaUvKkU4vyHqumKz1NNpcwQNaJIi5978boA5gHbJVUqAFu6Q6gqC4QynCiylR8gPultRCMZy7rlI1KfjnNmP06LC65xHE/s400/Jog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344265545408436130" /></a><br />We Won a Cruise – Alaska Here We Come<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwFkykIttGa-rMkItcmWCKDUF_R9iCRCr8CSrKAOR-TGQ46bpymRPNDLnOvVK2l84_GmVpeI2Sy8CXGdsWhHXLNiAnYP7tBT4_xaYcpWRg01PujIPrrY8IaV9K8szXH8L2sNQ9f1OvLY/s1600-h/Cruise_Winner.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwFkykIttGa-rMkItcmWCKDUF_R9iCRCr8CSrKAOR-TGQ46bpymRPNDLnOvVK2l84_GmVpeI2Sy8CXGdsWhHXLNiAnYP7tBT4_xaYcpWRg01PujIPrrY8IaV9K8szXH8L2sNQ9f1OvLY/s400/Cruise_Winner.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344265740090810338" /></a><br />Dan Kept His Job – There have been layoffs 3 times in the 7 months Danny worked here. <br /> Danny made it through the “Final” layoff for the next year and a half.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIeneDVYwtm9d1HQzuKfMo5mUnV6uaAFZ8tlrtxhs1QmCX45rG6TtF1J19mL0dUCc_c2nia3wxMiX1WUhFKHB7oOuwJEou10jA66GeFxTKl1ZSVxhbyB61vsZljrcvTJkimuHM4qTS4o/s1600-h/April+2009+353.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIeneDVYwtm9d1HQzuKfMo5mUnV6uaAFZ8tlrtxhs1QmCX45rG6TtF1J19mL0dUCc_c2nia3wxMiX1WUhFKHB7oOuwJEou10jA66GeFxTKl1ZSVxhbyB61vsZljrcvTJkimuHM4qTS4o/s400/April+2009+353.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344266360502362370" /></a><br />We made an offer on a house<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hqKQhUnighs1mONLpXatQzEI3doQVEFaXZuikgwTZ-KdQlvHT7HSTlZcFS5Ykb8DEhDwbrmGFJ2t4D9IJBM8sYJcuUY6hcDDrITTlOSuUZ1VH_siPPhIADApVKmdNP4RMB2JhY9iL7Y/s1600-h/House.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hqKQhUnighs1mONLpXatQzEI3doQVEFaXZuikgwTZ-KdQlvHT7HSTlZcFS5Ykb8DEhDwbrmGFJ2t4D9IJBM8sYJcuUY6hcDDrITTlOSuUZ1VH_siPPhIADApVKmdNP4RMB2JhY9iL7Y/s400/House.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344266620053438162" /></a><br />Another Layoff Announced<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJyBAmUBLC6pzS_24gnalMZq3UdW1X82OZg3etA17qsUCzm6DFlgoMElsh5n3irS2j8OTNpIKGGpWIDddwRJraL1b4j9QkPGrpFNbk3CaDJk0vczomXxmAZy96P_XAEwe6buC4YxUmZU/s1600-h/P3200229.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIJyBAmUBLC6pzS_24gnalMZq3UdW1X82OZg3etA17qsUCzm6DFlgoMElsh5n3irS2j8OTNpIKGGpWIDddwRJraL1b4j9QkPGrpFNbk3CaDJk0vczomXxmAZy96P_XAEwe6buC4YxUmZU/s400/P3200229.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344267752527728386" /></a><br />We pulled an Offer on a House<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPGAXk7p2rsIX62B4nbbNPfySOwzg7_lSx1Te7y6pLe-En27gNHIRWw675LcpjtE3Ztmi9nZunzg0rwVih0_F-43181tIrkaRr2TcCXvzoIzj1hokpbrwxOjHbxaZD3G90fjngsjv6s8/s1600-h/House+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXPGAXk7p2rsIX62B4nbbNPfySOwzg7_lSx1Te7y6pLe-En27gNHIRWw675LcpjtE3Ztmi9nZunzg0rwVih0_F-43181tIrkaRr2TcCXvzoIzj1hokpbrwxOjHbxaZD3G90fjngsjv6s8/s400/House+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344266817754031186" /></a><br />The Outdoor Pools opened – This is OUR YMCA<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwmjmp8UBm-wnCde9_ntqdMQPodi_iHR1LvejEsoLgIsQkzQTx3G-EBkSWZ2t-PeggKxLN2Oi4F8hh-6kwWXJfQedyyfPJraRGO25yVU2By_piaCQaLQRDqU9-_UYsHhOGLB64xc9GuI/s1600-h/Waterpark+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 195px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwmjmp8UBm-wnCde9_ntqdMQPodi_iHR1LvejEsoLgIsQkzQTx3G-EBkSWZ2t-PeggKxLN2Oi4F8hh-6kwWXJfQedyyfPJraRGO25yVU2By_piaCQaLQRDqU9-_UYsHhOGLB64xc9GuI/s400/Waterpark+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344267986181573506" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2Lhn-7YAf5JlaFXaUN49KAZEmJww82J4d3cCVYTkiFgybCjUaHRbXVkPl3bb8zJskTni2ic5jZKeFOt2iWzwSWdx7dcbmvqcUdlj89_e71Jfv8-WqvJBdNeEaV8v4YIwC_9CeREr1rI/s1600-h/Waterpark+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2Lhn-7YAf5JlaFXaUN49KAZEmJww82J4d3cCVYTkiFgybCjUaHRbXVkPl3bb8zJskTni2ic5jZKeFOt2iWzwSWdx7dcbmvqcUdlj89_e71Jfv8-WqvJBdNeEaV8v4YIwC_9CeREr1rI/s400/Waterpark+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344267984243298946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vjf-8b_cz54uEznHGiYVuU3uA244bA_X0oRudKhFWMlBwtx7TrmkvZ55udpjZQCHSAofFgBXNnaOQzS-StB-BIvRCFWg8RANuE6AsAnPc_9-2GXp9mdIvCGUwzBlwH8Xcgg38B9WDT0/s1600-h/Indoor+Pool.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vjf-8b_cz54uEznHGiYVuU3uA244bA_X0oRudKhFWMlBwtx7TrmkvZ55udpjZQCHSAofFgBXNnaOQzS-StB-BIvRCFWg8RANuE6AsAnPc_9-2GXp9mdIvCGUwzBlwH8Xcgg38B9WDT0/s400/Indoor+Pool.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344267984620845490" /></a><br />We Had a Nephew<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_vuO9T8LpP36Dk_Lqumy5dbX8ZeyXZMIXGw9WvgmcLKYN5zVMbziAppoknyyTWtapWtAs4GhC600tuab6_Nkwqg8go32pXrE_14VzXuFoAsltweW9Y4AHAUrGHoKw2tnpfjAOI9SwT4/s1600-h/Mason.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy_vuO9T8LpP36Dk_Lqumy5dbX8ZeyXZMIXGw9WvgmcLKYN5zVMbziAppoknyyTWtapWtAs4GhC600tuab6_Nkwqg8go32pXrE_14VzXuFoAsltweW9Y4AHAUrGHoKw2tnpfjAOI9SwT4/s400/Mason.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344268154887130354" /></a><br />We Had A Niece<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NiOWu7Jrr5OWKit9A3VivQ9ue8N2NzWE1FQ3AWNd3Y_tRejbhbDD_VBGvclyQGndV27Afocerke6WmstF9mQ4y2YMmKTwtR10K-NMXN07ztwDIIjTc-_6BqsdWcfDIr-xpk9H-E3Vhg/s1600-h/Baby+Barton.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NiOWu7Jrr5OWKit9A3VivQ9ue8N2NzWE1FQ3AWNd3Y_tRejbhbDD_VBGvclyQGndV27Afocerke6WmstF9mQ4y2YMmKTwtR10K-NMXN07ztwDIIjTc-_6BqsdWcfDIr-xpk9H-E3Vhg/s400/Baby+Barton.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344268296420990194" /></a><br />I know that for all intents and purposes this is not the most interesting blog ever written but I at least feel like I have done what I can to keep you posted on my “real life.” I have also been toying with the idea to do something fun for myself (although if you ask my husband he would tell you that almost everything I do is super fun and for myself but what does he know? He is always at work talking to grown ups and all involved in trying to keep his job and stuff.)<br /><br />Maybe when I get another moment (in a month or 2) I will unveil my ideas for how to mix things up in my life. Right now I have a giant to do list that I have to get to if I ever want to be able to relax and enjoy my summer.<br /><br />1. Watch my kiddos mess up the house while yelling idol threats and then tell my husband I was so busy all day.<br />2. Visit Texas (I will be there the 10th through the 19th. I am going to see Wicked!!!!)<br />3. Cause contention within my family (I have already done what I can for the month within my own family so this month I will be concentrating on my husbands family).<br />4. Applying Sunscreen.<br />5. Complaining that I am so white and overweight (but doing as little as <br /> possible to remedy either of those conditions)<br />6. Applying more sunscreen.<br />7. Chilling with my kiddos at the pool (did you see our totally awesome YMCA <br /> pools?).<br />8. Blogging about how I didn’t do anything all summer and where the time went <br /> while being overly excited that my kids are back in school while my husband <br /> is hopefully still employed and looking into making another offer on a new <br /> house.<br /><br />Big Plans. Big Plans.<br />Happy Summer Everyone (and by everyone, I mean the 3 to 5 people that actually read my blog).<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-63666121179488382662009-03-28T16:26:00.007-07:002009-03-28T16:48:40.288-07:00Cold Found Me - I don't know how but it found me.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jXepL6ZeMArCrVXbCyCcBWqZ-6u1sO-Jx61BzPevUBORcPzBFGqpRCGXcrtOPBTOElOYGaGItrHvweNxVWCuAks4bWUfLiEfewslemDrsbB9Bsg4Rv1TpQAuLqmy7k9bhWmV_oIeFHE/s1600-h/Picture+104.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jXepL6ZeMArCrVXbCyCcBWqZ-6u1sO-Jx61BzPevUBORcPzBFGqpRCGXcrtOPBTOElOYGaGItrHvweNxVWCuAks4bWUfLiEfewslemDrsbB9Bsg4Rv1TpQAuLqmy7k9bhWmV_oIeFHE/s400/Picture+104.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318386029317491922" /></a><br />We had a little cold snap here. It kind of stinks that it is the end of March and we have to bundle up still. This is the plant hanger by our front door. We had to pull down the ice because as it melted it was freezing on our front step and my 3 year old fell and knocked his head.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnoogMr5ymAx0VFeaRpXkF9XJ0nb65Z5M4G7Va3zFmSxLX6OHD3O-MAvem_CG_UOxxEmI5qTHUC8ZulqtrlzzR3Py7Oz1GQ2lmaicEzk3cMBj21n-SV3ww1kJPc_QTNmU09nc5dQJZAY/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvnoogMr5ymAx0VFeaRpXkF9XJ0nb65Z5M4G7Va3zFmSxLX6OHD3O-MAvem_CG_UOxxEmI5qTHUC8ZulqtrlzzR3Py7Oz1GQ2lmaicEzk3cMBj21n-SV3ww1kJPc_QTNmU09nc5dQJZAY/s400/Picture+073.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318386026834926498" /></a><br />Danny's car isn't in the garage so it was covered in ice. We tried to open the door but it was frozen shut. We did manage to free the handle.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9274Z8RMMni-8-lTkj3kD6QbuXvPklqkoWkceLLKfWVai4aBgHiY1fRvaY8aaKPZfwec2rWn4QBsEXqJTNIo1bss7CqfMtFblrakYgUmB2YK-J9KNoD1lc_7fBmsXGRWaEHV1ys48vqI/s1600-h/Picture+067.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9274Z8RMMni-8-lTkj3kD6QbuXvPklqkoWkceLLKfWVai4aBgHiY1fRvaY8aaKPZfwec2rWn4QBsEXqJTNIo1bss7CqfMtFblrakYgUmB2YK-J9KNoD1lc_7fBmsXGRWaEHV1ys48vqI/s400/Picture+067.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318386022838220050" /></a><br />The tire nozzle is completely covered in ice as was the tire. It is pretty neat because you can see water closer to the tire floating around under the ice.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6VIMGoL7XCHtb4fpmDw2TO6AQO0o9bvgKGaf_O3Fog0-ArLMOC8D4B7h7W5mJrGzJZPOg6L-Nf1aJDElcLYWI0IJVnrdQ7YXrPZtc0H4gJaWM72JCXrNcqydxzE6PNV6pED1yVbW5J8/s1600-h/Picture+065.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6VIMGoL7XCHtb4fpmDw2TO6AQO0o9bvgKGaf_O3Fog0-ArLMOC8D4B7h7W5mJrGzJZPOg6L-Nf1aJDElcLYWI0IJVnrdQ7YXrPZtc0H4gJaWM72JCXrNcqydxzE6PNV6pED1yVbW5J8/s400/Picture+065.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318385480529171506" /></a>This is the front light of Dan's car.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0ONCeTQoxJXbrqUptB22d7RQ21OEBXn4SDHVVNl4-DGmrQ8f-rQPNYeFrVQRN08U-OI4ut_DhtlPTpHgzy3mcBRcaanUzKmgxKdEtRTp65ZGGNgpc9_5qKFhyphenhyphen1IUlvsZGmHQAUQaExE/s1600-h/Picture+049.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0ONCeTQoxJXbrqUptB22d7RQ21OEBXn4SDHVVNl4-DGmrQ8f-rQPNYeFrVQRN08U-OI4ut_DhtlPTpHgzy3mcBRcaanUzKmgxKdEtRTp65ZGGNgpc9_5qKFhyphenhyphen1IUlvsZGmHQAUQaExE/s400/Picture+049.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318385474192352322" /></a><br />This is a shot of our front storm door. What is so funny about this picture is that the glass is clear. We do not have frosted glass that is all ice. We couldn't get it open. We had to go in and out through the garage.<br /><br />The rest of these are some pretty pictures. I love how nature can be so destructive but so beautiful at the same time. The ice covered everything and the patterns and colors are amazing. I took the last three photos right outside on my street.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGs4syvzu8YeY_ThFwwUPNjtAH6QKNzTi3cY8U1iZb-GiDV6FWAgPUSJVDiwbLEKaMde-M65OcigUcCBwpI1nycCoWP1yJBRi3w0wDmWgFgiQ4K2YDrqMzjBgTyd8JkFR25indI7pDhEw/s1600-h/Tree+Trunk.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGs4syvzu8YeY_ThFwwUPNjtAH6QKNzTi3cY8U1iZb-GiDV6FWAgPUSJVDiwbLEKaMde-M65OcigUcCBwpI1nycCoWP1yJBRi3w0wDmWgFgiQ4K2YDrqMzjBgTyd8JkFR25indI7pDhEw/s400/Tree+Trunk.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318385471545172642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmt9gCLhFnlqt6vC5b2naANEW0hVetKKqy3RfBTKI2U-MqpJTogN6_A7JtYKC5VUenup-OIYNo61AiI-5DPrdcdRqk_iaWWJw_sBsc2UCWPbddlD4SPUA5J9qN48VeQMW4VxrYw5asac/s1600-h/Tree+Close.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmt9gCLhFnlqt6vC5b2naANEW0hVetKKqy3RfBTKI2U-MqpJTogN6_A7JtYKC5VUenup-OIYNo61AiI-5DPrdcdRqk_iaWWJw_sBsc2UCWPbddlD4SPUA5J9qN48VeQMW4VxrYw5asac/s400/Tree+Close.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318385470203662338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZzA9Y_HwBkl8PfS-D2ZhXvwiB7LMhoWUYhmluBTuMXrxQ-h4QwZ1cZ5csS1xRqjHLWJROt8dhfDM4_FYnfz0LeAlZF-OCgXn-Gbp5gpmo_2Lnxua0wcr52TmCxTkbTMDWKGMzwFD3n4/s1600-h/Pine+Close.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZzA9Y_HwBkl8PfS-D2ZhXvwiB7LMhoWUYhmluBTuMXrxQ-h4QwZ1cZ5csS1xRqjHLWJROt8dhfDM4_FYnfz0LeAlZF-OCgXn-Gbp5gpmo_2Lnxua0wcr52TmCxTkbTMDWKGMzwFD3n4/s400/Pine+Close.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318385461679285250" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-62144608371346033212009-03-25T10:46:00.006-07:002009-03-25T11:51:12.945-07:00Father Time marches on - It figures he would be a man.I don’t want to alarm anyone, but it seems to have happened. I have gotten old. Now don’t go giggling and thinking things are all funny. You are getting old too. It is one of those things that happen really slowly for a long time then all of the sudden it sneaks up behind you and kicks you in the butt right before it trips you and then repeatedly kicks you in the face while you are down. I not saying it is a bad thing, it is just a little unpleasant when you have to get up. <br /><br />Most of you know that I have a gaggle of little ones (gaggle = 5+). I recently had their pictures taken (it only took me a year and a half) and I got them back. When I looked at them I received a shock. The faces in the pictures are no longer my little kiddos. My baby’s faces have been replaced by young adults (or at least pre-teens and non-toddlers). <br /><br />My oldest no longer has baby fat and bed head. He is a good looking 10 ½ year old who wears deodorant and wants his hair to look good for certain occasions. He puts on clean shirts and changes his undies without being asked. Who is this child and where did mine go? <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5deUkiZhQumYRlcFFHIEBZ1O9YTFG20184wip3xxkXPJtV7wNTYUPnxSVCJUhubCvwDg84xqA5P8Ob3sETrcYWIaEpwQEeTJz0NoUCTCR4pBwGqgA_sa77m75o_YbE1jVvpL8K34Z2U/s1600-h/Koby.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5deUkiZhQumYRlcFFHIEBZ1O9YTFG20184wip3xxkXPJtV7wNTYUPnxSVCJUhubCvwDg84xqA5P8Ob3sETrcYWIaEpwQEeTJz0NoUCTCR4pBwGqgA_sa77m75o_YbE1jVvpL8K34Z2U/s400/Koby.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317196126683263586" /></a> <br />My second is 8 now. He is playing computer games and getting love notes from girls on the playground. What is even more shocking is that he can now read them on his own so I don’t always know about them. Last year he had a hard time reading other peoples handwriting, so I at least got to know what they said without having his older brother snooping for me. How do I get my baby back?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_STyGMsnLPDkNKEFGvloR6zPdu_cKv1GzMxZgC56mBDbPDbG9peBfN2iA3Rq8zJ0X_qMPSAGq8y0gQb5NzTkAv6a2aHmoUNiw_hmUL1V-OyMmWq2ptKWrqfkuTU19GqcZOUYyNrseaZg/s1600-h/Magavin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_STyGMsnLPDkNKEFGvloR6zPdu_cKv1GzMxZgC56mBDbPDbG9peBfN2iA3Rq8zJ0X_qMPSAGq8y0gQb5NzTkAv6a2aHmoUNiw_hmUL1V-OyMmWq2ptKWrqfkuTU19GqcZOUYyNrseaZg/s400/Magavin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317197015655902050" /></a><br />The oldest girl in my story now requires bows in her hair and earrings in her ears. She likes shoes that match her outfit. She wants to talk on the phone and brings home phone numbers of people who she simply must speak with. She also has a problem with my rule of NO make-up until she is 14. I wonder what she will say when she finds out that she can’t date until she is at least 16 (older if I can find any excuse at all to make it so).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCEQK-Ahy4aPhh2c72rCtrVQyBnLAk6Of66FFyqUa-zUxqShRdXgL0Rp0JEFpj74gUErP-ktUbwtMj8dhjLkhh2x2AaVfohQsBug6cPYJFYAuwKNWBXmcgtlI0A2QYLvJpTpBaWbrjD0/s1600-h/Delaney.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggCEQK-Ahy4aPhh2c72rCtrVQyBnLAk6Of66FFyqUa-zUxqShRdXgL0Rp0JEFpj74gUErP-ktUbwtMj8dhjLkhh2x2AaVfohQsBug6cPYJFYAuwKNWBXmcgtlI0A2QYLvJpTpBaWbrjD0/s400/Delaney.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317197022842657730" /></a><br />Magoo is, as always, a gigantic handful of energy with a side of trouble. He can type in his favorite URL’s and work all of his favorite PC games all on his own. Not impressive you say? He is 3. He has also fine tuned his powers of manipulation (after all he has 2 girls to compete with). His big blue eyes are deadly weapons and he will use them. He also likes to critique my television shows. He likes American Idol but doesn’t care for anything that I have on when he wants to watch Deigo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6hGiFQRzKnd-cxRaukRDqoh38ecFJ7QHfPUndSTT1sPMaa2KnPNrqzFrOC3yMbtqexypnyskv9UbipmpfW8Ln3_08SVAQgS_pkaEC1n7wvxRltFmWz3MFBXjFw3iPgsXt8-n4IlERZs/s1600-h/Milo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6hGiFQRzKnd-cxRaukRDqoh38ecFJ7QHfPUndSTT1sPMaa2KnPNrqzFrOC3yMbtqexypnyskv9UbipmpfW8Ln3_08SVAQgS_pkaEC1n7wvxRltFmWz3MFBXjFw3iPgsXt8-n4IlERZs/s400/Milo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317197026463599458" /></a><br />Then there is the baby. She is almost one and, for so long, she was content to sit still and smile for the adoring masses. Now she is mobile and gets into everything but when she gets caught, boy does she turn on the charm. You will be rendered powerless. I have yet to meet anyone who can fight her control (I doubt anyone has ever tried. She is that good.). Now she stands up on things. My baby is no longer a baby.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiExzGg8Rd6P4c2Gg5W4OjjT6jYtGnyEKNs7K6spde4X2FM-MelUgRvjDSdHSRTmyKH0YuUcjqfjg5jEJtf2GxNICD6eywmdcKx1HtMlTy6g-lxTvfOwss6t3tZwhfUILL6S3v7o3avX1w/s1600-h/Emerson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiExzGg8Rd6P4c2Gg5W4OjjT6jYtGnyEKNs7K6spde4X2FM-MelUgRvjDSdHSRTmyKH0YuUcjqfjg5jEJtf2GxNICD6eywmdcKx1HtMlTy6g-lxTvfOwss6t3tZwhfUILL6S3v7o3avX1w/s400/Emerson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317197034715886882" /></a><br />Then there is the hubby. As if adding insult to injury the man doesn’t age. He looks the same as he did when we got married (except for the tired eyes of an old man and the grown up hair cut). It took 11 years for me to come to terms with the fact that the man doesn’t gain weight but, as I was sitting on the bathroom counter plucking out my grey hairs, I realized he still looks young. I am the one who gains and looses (hopefully) weight. I am the one that has ruined my once perfect body (My ramblings, my opinions, and I HAD a great body) with the birthing baby after baby (after baby after baby after baby….). I am the one getting wrinkles worrying about…everything. I am the one who shows the wear and tear of day to day life and he is the one who can hide his age (until I stand next to him and “date” him). I know that life isn’t fair but someone needs to throw me a bone. In my head I think I stopped somewhere around 27 but the mirror might as well be calling me a liar to my face (or my mother’s face because it also struck me that my face is slowly morphing into my mother’s. I do hold the perpetual double chin against her and her DNA but I don’t think I helped things by dying my hair the same color as hers on accident while searching for a way to cover the aforementioned grays).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZ45CmN7PDYYmOftyr_BsHd5yZT_jpoMPGxceGc49-jHK66teI5pDym07USIxGMieJCH_3wr_vNzvkNxE5aDmi_MpRFPBQ-4kf0G-NaP5zV7EjOTTMnO_upK5FEuvM3SfiDYr2Dzz8Ek/s1600-h/Katy+and+Dan.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 294px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZ45CmN7PDYYmOftyr_BsHd5yZT_jpoMPGxceGc49-jHK66teI5pDym07USIxGMieJCH_3wr_vNzvkNxE5aDmi_MpRFPBQ-4kf0G-NaP5zV7EjOTTMnO_upK5FEuvM3SfiDYr2Dzz8Ek/s400/Katy+and+Dan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317197039863942402" /></a><br />I know that aging is unavoidable but does it have to happen so quickly? Go ahead people, laugh at my pain and suffering, but be careful. Your day will come and I might just be there with my walker to get in a kick or 2 as long as you are already on the ground. Then afterwards we can leave the kids with dad and go party like a couple of wild and crazy ladies that have another few weeks before they are due to take their Boneiva pill again (it’s a pill taken once a month to combat osteoporosis. If you didn’t know that, I’m not sure we can still be friends)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiskNYh3uOnqrvwhOV1LucHg1uxY_73zy20MOE9cbYFHmET_LjvRHLRDrGLksgoXUcFQffwXjiQI5ZxboFu-wcTstf3xVdqOb5njJCrSiuCx3BQjuwSQaZSnVnIE22SNEiDMTbkKFUFFs/s1600-h/Family+Sitting+.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 338px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiskNYh3uOnqrvwhOV1LucHg1uxY_73zy20MOE9cbYFHmET_LjvRHLRDrGLksgoXUcFQffwXjiQI5ZxboFu-wcTstf3xVdqOb5njJCrSiuCx3BQjuwSQaZSnVnIE22SNEiDMTbkKFUFFs/s400/Family+Sitting+.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317198659983517026" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-7660083895543412722009-03-04T17:58:00.008-07:002009-03-04T18:24:03.808-07:00I have a rumbly in my tummy...(and a marble, 2 screws, and about 57 cents in change. Were you hungry, 'cause there is plenty to go around. I promise)HELLO!!! It has been a while and it’s lovely to see you again. Time has flown by and here all of the sudden it is March. Not only March, but March of 2009. Where has all the time gone? <br /><br />My baby is finally crawling, and any of you who have kids know what that means….You have to actually vacuum the floor regularly. So I have that to keep me busy. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTv7X0vQPJX3qAJYKj-W1fhQxtiY2G4_e6CRYriLxJnSrJNoqlCYHpAiJuEit0jE2U2SjwroctaUPqENGM742xA95phmZRJ-eig_1w4_pGBFBGzL0aFb1ADaoL-lgYZWxrJVRdvkTIrk/s1600-h/Emmie+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfTv7X0vQPJX3qAJYKj-W1fhQxtiY2G4_e6CRYriLxJnSrJNoqlCYHpAiJuEit0jE2U2SjwroctaUPqENGM742xA95phmZRJ-eig_1w4_pGBFBGzL0aFb1ADaoL-lgYZWxrJVRdvkTIrk/s400/Emmie+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309507748074721506" /></a><br />It really is amazing what this kid finds in the floor. I have found things ranging from a grain of rice (though how she managed to gag herself on that particular item is beyond me. It is tiny and yet, she’ll go ahead and try to choke on it anyway) to the head of a Littlest Pet Shop dog (though in my defense, the body that the head was originally attached to is entirely too large to choke on. How was I to know that my 3 year old has graduated from cutting doll hair to popping the bobble heads off of annoyingly sweet fake animals? What mom can see that progression shaping up?). <br /><br />She tends to favor things that are clear and/or shiny, and that is just aces for my 3 year old. He has discovered the joy of scissors, (I did mention the doll hair right? Those dolls, for some reason are always sans apparel, therefore destined for the garbage anyway. They are just getting there a piece at a time.) and he leaves me little reminders that I own too many pairs of scissors daily. His favorite thing to cut up is the wrappers of fruit snacks, which fit into both the clear (semi-transparent) and shiny categories. <br /><br />My new favorite thing to watch is someone trying to retrieve these items from her mouth (I watch the Amazing Race as well but that is only Sunday nights at 7pm on CBS so this takes up all the empty moments). <br /><br />When she sees us coming, she knows right away what it is for. First, she smiles (to throw us off or distract us from our necessary purpose). When she sees that we will not be deterred, she clamps down tighter then a 10 month old should be able to. It is like a vise grip and if your fingers get caught in those razor sharp teeth, you may have to fish those finger tips out of there as well. <br /><br />Then, if that isn’t enough to deal with, she throws her head backwards and emits the distress call. The call brings every person in the vicinity that in not already involved in the struggle, to the scene instantly so that they have the opportunity to both coo over the baby and completely misinterpret the situation. All they see is this baby thrashing and unhappy with your fingers in her mouth and you gripping her head in an abusive looking manner (you have to because the “head bucking” (as I call it) is quite unpredictable and could cause her to hurt herself if you don’t grab her fast in anyway you can. If you can hold on for longer then 8 seconds you are promoted to “professional” status.) <br /><br />Once the crowd has gathered, if you are not terrified at the chance she might actually swallow, you get to explain to people who think that offering advise (such as “you might want to vacuum more often” or “you should have your kids pick up after themselves a little better.”) or asking every other second WHAT she swallowed (if I knew that I wouldn’t be digging for gold) or if you got it yet (I would remove my fingers if I had, in fact gotten “it”) actually helps. She continues to wow the crowd by gagging on you fingers every now and again to keep them riveted. <br /><br />When you finally retrieve the offensive mouthful and, if you are my husband, have flicked it back onto the floor so it keeps on giving. She cutely rubs her nose and begs to be picked up and held (which I suspect was the whole purpose of the charade from the beginning) which someone inevitable does. Sucker! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrPHkjsYnmqcxIWnlMYic5-vZY14u1l_6ZOFv_jBZEZrlNdOyre-ek0cUqjS4e1qUmmorHfiAmSOsDfRrRnCEZLw8VjxiDQnL9-WOK82l65By8Iqbhg_CcsXiJ4JwIHoaguO5AAQctLHs/s1600-h/Emmie+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrPHkjsYnmqcxIWnlMYic5-vZY14u1l_6ZOFv_jBZEZrlNdOyre-ek0cUqjS4e1qUmmorHfiAmSOsDfRrRnCEZLw8VjxiDQnL9-WOK82l65By8Iqbhg_CcsXiJ4JwIHoaguO5AAQctLHs/s400/Emmie+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309507754373057586" /></a><br />What is so funny is that, for a bright kid (if I do say so myself and I do), she has yet to figure out how to be stealth enough to keep the treasures in her mouth (if that is in fact what she wants). She sticks something in there and then begins to chew quite animatedly. It could be applesauce (which I do not regularly keep on my floor but, with 5 kids, I can’t say it has never happened) and the kid will chew on it for about 5 minutes. When will she learn; you’ve got to make noise (so no one comes looking for you) and suck but don’t chew. Even with all the eating of random things off the dirty floor she really is a great and very happy baby.<br /><br />So basically nothing much is going on here. What’s new with you? Don’t stay away so long next time. I miss you.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-51843762100098966362009-01-29T09:25:00.001-07:002009-01-29T09:28:35.680-07:00Young mom, 'cause you're in a new town, You can stay there, and I'm sure you will find Many ways to have a good time. ................................It has been a while but I am back. I am now coming to you from the fun and exciting state of Kansas. It is cold here. I guess, living in Arizona for so long, I forgot that there were places on Earth that freeze and turn white. People around here tell me that it is a beautiful place to live but I haven’t really seen it yet. The grass is muddy and brown (when it isn’t white and icy), the trees are bare and wholly unsuitable for climbing (I could climb a tree. I am not so old as to not still have wild ideas completely unsuitable for my age and most definitely detrimental to my health if I ever followed through with them. I could climb a tree), and there are no flowers or color anywhere. I will give it a few more months before I render my final verdict. I do miss the Arizona winters.<br /> <br />I have filled up my days utterly avoiding the mess that is my house. It seems like every piece of furniture that I liked was damaged in the move and the crap that I should have thrown out before we loaded the truck made it through in the same shape as before. So, needless to say, I have quit unpacking boxes. It depresses me. It is cold outside and with 2 kids not in school, I have had to find a suitable warm place to spend my days where I don’t have to look at the chaos that surrounds me at home. The trick is to only have to get in and out of the car once (because that is another hassle. The baby needs a coat when the wind blows but freaks out when I strap her into her car seat with the coat on because it is tight. The same goes for my 3 year old, only he has managed to figure out how to unstrap himself, which is a whole different kind of fun). <br /><br />My first instinct was the mall. Makes sense right? Many stores, indoor playground, the pretzel place, and lots to do. That was not a good idea. After spending hundreds of dollars on stuff I didn’t need (and that was just at the pretzel place), chasing my 3 year old around, and trying to breast feed in front of Subway (where the tables and chairs are) I realized that I was not in Mesa anymore (lots of nursing mothers with little kids). I was doomed to stay in my small house watching the Backyardagans forever. That’s what I thought until I discovered……….. the YMCA.<br /><br />I thought this place was the stuff of early 80’s gay rock; made up for the purpose of getting preteens on the dance floor at the middle school dances across the country, but no. It is a real and very magical place where dreams come true. We joined the “Y” (as it is referred to by the locals) and IT began. <br /><br />For less then $50 a month I have discovered freedom. I walk in the front door and a smiling face greets me to take away my children for 2 solid hours of peace. Alone. Once my children have been sequestered in a place that rivals any McDonald’s playground I have ever seen, I have my choice of activities. They offer pools, saunas, spas, a full gym including cardio and weights, group fitness classes, a full gymnastics area (where my idea for being able to climb trees originated), a track, basketball courts, Wii’s, and (my favorite) Ultimate Dance Revolution games. It is a cornucopia of stimulation. If you want to exercise they have it all, but if you don’t, they have many other options as well. If I want to just sit and read, they do that. If I want to watch TV, they do that (cable on several large flat screens through out). If I want to shower and get ready for the day without having a child walking in to ask me for food or to fix the TV or computer for them, I can do that. It is bliss. I have 2 hours to do nothing or everything, everyday.<br /><br />On top of the freedom and peace I have discovered there, more treasures have made themselves known unto me. I have busy kids. In Mesa I didn’t like having to drive all over the planet: Karate here, dance there, it was not worth it. Here, they are all in the same place at the same time. Where? You guessed it. The YMCA. For $120 a month my kids are in Karate, Gymnastics, swimming, dance, soccer, and cheer. Anything and everything you can think of is at the Y. One trip to one place and I don’t have to stay in the room if I don’t want to (or if my kids don’t want me too. I do have a 10 year old). <br /><br />I have not only satisfied my desire to not clean or unpack my house, I have discovered the perfect way to do it so that my husband can’t even complain about it. I love the YMCA. It has done wonders to make my stay here in Wichita so much more enjoyable then it could be, and I have lost weight to boot. <br /><br />So you can keep your warm winter days and trips to the park. I choose my fully staffed kids play place and lap pool any day (everyday actually). If any of you would like to pop in and visit I will take you over and show you around. If you are in the mood, I will school you in the beginner footing of either Funky Town or Girls Just Want to Have Fun and join you in a lap around the track (or 2). You might have to stay in a hotel because my house id full of boxes and almost completely uninhabitable but how is that really different form what it was in AZ?<br /><br />I hope that everyone is doing well and missing us as much as we miss them. Take care and keep in touch.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-71405488762974659582009-01-10T20:23:00.006-07:002009-01-10T20:57:55.000-07:00Ice SkatingWe went ice skating with Hawker at the Wichita Ice Center. None of the kids have ever been ice skating before so it was an adventure. The big boys were off as soon as they hit the ice I just wish I had taken a picture of the brusies that appeared the next day). The 2 little ones had to have me and Dan "help" them. I got quite a workout and a sore back (form carring the kid's weight not from falling). I will definately go again.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipkhNkKTBMGoKd8ObhoCJUiUGcOUtx6LZEzK7lxV9InyVGzaUESWTQ7wbr9pACCr0styeiN43IUMf_m_RCWryTDhrjSevNZKUryrqKqD49TZEUqKv0Ibm-bZwas6AAyj4Wa96Z_IIh37Y/s1600-h/PC300501.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipkhNkKTBMGoKd8ObhoCJUiUGcOUtx6LZEzK7lxV9InyVGzaUESWTQ7wbr9pACCr0styeiN43IUMf_m_RCWryTDhrjSevNZKUryrqKqD49TZEUqKv0Ibm-bZwas6AAyj4Wa96Z_IIh37Y/s400/PC300501.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289877127951759202" /></a><br />My girl. Near the end she was out on the ice on her own and she started to get the hang of it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYnriVwJbyS6TjsL7vyXb0faYhZxf-vyTJ-VY7LJwOF0gG6pTVyKRsXgt3bSjy8RZhbAzjESFC0ujqcdGe_G7vH8oLQtN2XXHssQI7O0Ib5vBSzdxK0ANVFKVHJUzaBgOBdHDYVxHmXWc/s1600-h/PC300539.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYnriVwJbyS6TjsL7vyXb0faYhZxf-vyTJ-VY7LJwOF0gG6pTVyKRsXgt3bSjy8RZhbAzjESFC0ujqcdGe_G7vH8oLQtN2XXHssQI7O0Ib5vBSzdxK0ANVFKVHJUzaBgOBdHDYVxHmXWc/s400/PC300539.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289877122705757106" /></a><br />This one makes me tired but he is so cute. The scab is from a scuffle with his big sister. She won.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99WCZEAcX3X8r7AUxFWoe5hAEoXKxQk5L0nNbAqC2ace-R0ttN2f3Je7u2no9MMgBr2ax5lSSisYoPlRZhPHlJt1lUilwDqZfVhE0J-QEwU9PEhMhHL0iEAzWxP7GV9hTdyL195wdvlk/s1600-h/PC300529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99WCZEAcX3X8r7AUxFWoe5hAEoXKxQk5L0nNbAqC2ace-R0ttN2f3Je7u2no9MMgBr2ax5lSSisYoPlRZhPHlJt1lUilwDqZfVhE0J-QEwU9PEhMhHL0iEAzWxP7GV9hTdyL195wdvlk/s400/PC300529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289877120819620322" /></a><br />One big. One little. All Pink.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipnLYzolBPcpkbH2Nw4FfgRVLyuNdtF_0OTFmDeDrKVm1Mmkz940Eb-BZ2yUk6Ofyb94Kg_FeZw0aGuYKKjn5KmCP2FZhpWCMEt35v56FTZbU_vaZTHltbL5hRZr4H-mELTQmLfzJnwtM/s1600-h/PC300502.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipnLYzolBPcpkbH2Nw4FfgRVLyuNdtF_0OTFmDeDrKVm1Mmkz940Eb-BZ2yUk6Ofyb94Kg_FeZw0aGuYKKjn5KmCP2FZhpWCMEt35v56FTZbU_vaZTHltbL5hRZr4H-mELTQmLfzJnwtM/s400/PC300502.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289877116250181010" /></a><br />Danny in the Mix.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT1CG4buPPXywq3qXk60ym7vPRGWH2-pThmXkYyGU8UJaQnPNYypZwbbsy59sNgjRkjuslQBqJ5zo7VxSLUKTdPvHoZuXDzVwN0JihB5MmPIQF_um2v0GZMDfysjKJzgrk3qylVf9EuE/s1600-h/PC300522.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT1CG4buPPXywq3qXk60ym7vPRGWH2-pThmXkYyGU8UJaQnPNYypZwbbsy59sNgjRkjuslQBqJ5zo7VxSLUKTdPvHoZuXDzVwN0JihB5MmPIQF_um2v0GZMDfysjKJzgrk3qylVf9EuE/s400/PC300522.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289877110137295490" /></a><br />This is how the little ones got around.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ2uxpHF83zH-KKW_ZXlxoSSp-Q5JbU_Tv_RWpYUzdW9gG2Mw7XRYKKzmykyEFwNfd7Sx11LSYk13klN4RtZJgNt46dYSG10_tFRva88MWq1eZ2xQ5Pk1xYurf2qnwGZxeuCgI5S37LRc/s1600-h/PC300525.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ2uxpHF83zH-KKW_ZXlxoSSp-Q5JbU_Tv_RWpYUzdW9gG2Mw7XRYKKzmykyEFwNfd7Sx11LSYk13klN4RtZJgNt46dYSG10_tFRva88MWq1eZ2xQ5Pk1xYurf2qnwGZxeuCgI5S37LRc/s400/PC300525.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872777208569298" /></a><br />This is my intimidating muscle flex pose. I'm scary aren't I?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XClNDZlnj94PurYgnER7OtDAkSmiQymrtK5LTrgxC19HfflP0cx1xwqrW3qvs2fZ6X4Zd2SVzWlq6Awn8rFqcTwfG3uGeUwYlRnrKt9MkK2QanJt9tEPoD11Ox7_SHXgAby0KtmOiQg/s1600-h/PC300534.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XClNDZlnj94PurYgnER7OtDAkSmiQymrtK5LTrgxC19HfflP0cx1xwqrW3qvs2fZ6X4Zd2SVzWlq6Awn8rFqcTwfG3uGeUwYlRnrKt9MkK2QanJt9tEPoD11Ox7_SHXgAby0KtmOiQg/s400/PC300534.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872768755026578" /></a><br />Semi-Pro.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fr6OSu_6T9SE9fj-_v3YEyQsFOaFM-R_I5Ys3LikxkfYmrYbscdy6vZF_72BYhi5CXJpZQ-y9lwpmpmpU41ZSiLAodoLjGTbUTU1b5LxLCRTNc_VjiNh3QRDi-nug1cZ5wR6bsgygbM/s1600-h/PC300507.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fr6OSu_6T9SE9fj-_v3YEyQsFOaFM-R_I5Ys3LikxkfYmrYbscdy6vZF_72BYhi5CXJpZQ-y9lwpmpmpU41ZSiLAodoLjGTbUTU1b5LxLCRTNc_VjiNh3QRDi-nug1cZ5wR6bsgygbM/s400/PC300507.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872760129043090" /></a><br />This is Dan and Trouble. I love this picture because the blury kid on the ground was on his feet when I pushed the button. It is bug man.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMXUCg6Si4XFqrovcJoBO1aH6AUaesHjbUGq9aO5Eb0xkJT_Mym7YXQj8-UQnVe5ac8j2c3XEow-gIyqo90W8-ESSO18-NGwshXXpcKqpjFkB23mz_v-VXkB2KZzAQkTB6PJqCGzClq8/s1600-h/PC300520.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMXUCg6Si4XFqrovcJoBO1aH6AUaesHjbUGq9aO5Eb0xkJT_Mym7YXQj8-UQnVe5ac8j2c3XEow-gIyqo90W8-ESSO18-NGwshXXpcKqpjFkB23mz_v-VXkB2KZzAQkTB6PJqCGzClq8/s400/PC300520.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872757165211762" /></a><br />I grow them really cute.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_nO0f0mPgBLpgVkqWccYgyTgpAGpg4pUiGTT5JY6Kxc68GC5kcPNhrnCv9vSOffI4sxDxasaGr-eEmYSckU9ES0zYtX_cDKMb_BjGodrhzMo7w18zc-aEDhdmLZpxSoIyBAMuUjeud0/s1600-h/PC300500.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_nO0f0mPgBLpgVkqWccYgyTgpAGpg4pUiGTT5JY6Kxc68GC5kcPNhrnCv9vSOffI4sxDxasaGr-eEmYSckU9ES0zYtX_cDKMb_BjGodrhzMo7w18zc-aEDhdmLZpxSoIyBAMuUjeud0/s400/PC300500.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289872749974695218" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-87078580813767223652009-01-10T20:14:00.002-07:002009-01-10T20:20:56.170-07:00My 8 Month Old Beauty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcqrLdn7FSY-KUh0ZJlxmBGTjj96nHtJ7XPff3qZ6Iscf-zvivMIxrc8p_-4Gq4PVVUCMsTmqaW18EciQ55Yzf9yOKLbqLPwb7DeTgtQs24B1HsDV1Z6VLIYhY8GZTN8suQ2jVHT-eKuc/s1600-h/PC300504.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcqrLdn7FSY-KUh0ZJlxmBGTjj96nHtJ7XPff3qZ6Iscf-zvivMIxrc8p_-4Gq4PVVUCMsTmqaW18EciQ55Yzf9yOKLbqLPwb7DeTgtQs24B1HsDV1Z6VLIYhY8GZTN8suQ2jVHT-eKuc/s400/PC300504.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289870519781705858" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGICIKmJIBBO6h0kwmJybN86l8S2_oC7izLvy9zlrOyXvpAknfUnJ8PkJYjRx7p6fqit8Dgnos_eXV-hWDLkD7gPAyUJcvaAqAyExiOhJOlBdKtJj6tEiu4CYEoRDCBj4p4tRERQoFOlk/s1600-h/PC290458.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGICIKmJIBBO6h0kwmJybN86l8S2_oC7izLvy9zlrOyXvpAknfUnJ8PkJYjRx7p6fqit8Dgnos_eXV-hWDLkD7gPAyUJcvaAqAyExiOhJOlBdKtJj6tEiu4CYEoRDCBj4p4tRERQoFOlk/s400/PC290458.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289870511518984370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjMSHABzBYGNCDQFoOZ3XKo8tdlpNlJJtEkOvUuvDJLCQJInkWfHqRaUZ2-wH3gon8Z7ZJL9fzLNXKwVHSJVQt2Dh5NVao_8uK8_I6HIAdKSC-sX_mYd2lYbUj-NmS-6hLOcWsZQ6tak/s1600-h/PC290442.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjMSHABzBYGNCDQFoOZ3XKo8tdlpNlJJtEkOvUuvDJLCQJInkWfHqRaUZ2-wH3gon8Z7ZJL9fzLNXKwVHSJVQt2Dh5NVao_8uK8_I6HIAdKSC-sX_mYd2lYbUj-NmS-6hLOcWsZQ6tak/s400/PC290442.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289870508307328946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWhbBSAHeH7I4WTgjLKEZdncAy-hvRDE7JpbyV116jCB8dc2KBkGN26CdKpMpo-N6OOL2dG8RU8p-S0u0_g-t05Nay3aaDMBgCkxk5vgke9Z57TOtd13WBoJXWs2ucBoQB8KMbjqIJc4/s1600-h/PC280433.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicWhbBSAHeH7I4WTgjLKEZdncAy-hvRDE7JpbyV116jCB8dc2KBkGN26CdKpMpo-N6OOL2dG8RU8p-S0u0_g-t05Nay3aaDMBgCkxk5vgke9Z57TOtd13WBoJXWs2ucBoQB8KMbjqIJc4/s400/PC280433.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289870510203760546" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPKbODd0XrYWwEQEgt4_9MTHZOocRvnHOmkZ6IM9xRQVctJH0VctnVho2wUYHZQkGxtTRGtxFz9rwgJS_QtMzg0h8Iw_OQqncBTT1nN4UqSyke-j40rhNGcXBMGZkfmv5npNaFWf4BC8/s1600-h/PC280429.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiPKbODd0XrYWwEQEgt4_9MTHZOocRvnHOmkZ6IM9xRQVctJH0VctnVho2wUYHZQkGxtTRGtxFz9rwgJS_QtMzg0h8Iw_OQqncBTT1nN4UqSyke-j40rhNGcXBMGZkfmv5npNaFWf4BC8/s400/PC280429.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289870503856714642" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-57983167215437659262009-01-10T19:32:00.003-07:002009-01-10T20:12:14.089-07:00Christams 2008The stockings were hung (now that we have a fireplace on which to hang them).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMon0WMghhNla3GbTfsQE2cw5hY5yT86TJmkIc1PLtk6f5iM4BTDs32webSADGwChZ-juuEEE2Zb0BvKrAI3W1PrIYd1mzhWaH12xcyoyrIL-l1nYattZKKUMHRDo8N0HlrqkLxibN-3A/s1600-h/PC240341.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMon0WMghhNla3GbTfsQE2cw5hY5yT86TJmkIc1PLtk6f5iM4BTDs32webSADGwChZ-juuEEE2Zb0BvKrAI3W1PrIYd1mzhWaH12xcyoyrIL-l1nYattZKKUMHRDo8N0HlrqkLxibN-3A/s400/PC240341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289859649127469058" /></a><br />We always torture the kids by making them wait before they can see their presents. We let them in from youngest to oldest. We are mean parents.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEs8bUqheuvZmlTUp0hFf_4GOBIr6eCWRNusQYTZJWiVhyxak6D3uTVfXLkA5DxPHsPkbtj9hcUxCmiIw131j8yJYyD0U0e6xmnIoJ5Lo2cAdhRGqFwuUj9Z1SCL3KTxIEgj__XiTs-xM/s1600-h/PC250351.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEs8bUqheuvZmlTUp0hFf_4GOBIr6eCWRNusQYTZJWiVhyxak6D3uTVfXLkA5DxPHsPkbtj9hcUxCmiIw131j8yJYyD0U0e6xmnIoJ5Lo2cAdhRGqFwuUj9Z1SCL3KTxIEgj__XiTs-xM/s400/PC250351.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289859652284195570" /></a><br />This was more of a gift for me then her (potatoe/patato) but the tree mezmorized her.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcnR9E_hEFLKdVh-leGjGH59To_ley6gN_l-MF7LHcTaqJopLIw2UvEmT6eAadJZXcK5x87u1MPgpFGjZF6RPRIKvVu6DnlHREsMD7JmNAX_BbeQqKmfZOd1n-bpnGgu-rPZbhlIVpvXU/s1600-h/PC250352.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcnR9E_hEFLKdVh-leGjGH59To_ley6gN_l-MF7LHcTaqJopLIw2UvEmT6eAadJZXcK5x87u1MPgpFGjZF6RPRIKvVu6DnlHREsMD7JmNAX_BbeQqKmfZOd1n-bpnGgu-rPZbhlIVpvXU/s400/PC250352.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289859658968898946" /></a><br />The baby got a ton of help and she did enjoy the presents after we took the paper out of her line of site.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GNE0E9yDq2aKcSZKN2jDPzxtQXSNNn0UOoCedD5ToeIoDMnDeeHaymh_wv4H6MBPdgyFSTTRAcsg24ij6KMwQSkkJtXZgmEk5dpU12hdH3xhNB7AdMTgEAnxSzLmvibuIiWtQqwbU_8/s1600-h/PC250381.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GNE0E9yDq2aKcSZKN2jDPzxtQXSNNn0UOoCedD5ToeIoDMnDeeHaymh_wv4H6MBPdgyFSTTRAcsg24ij6KMwQSkkJtXZgmEk5dpU12hdH3xhNB7AdMTgEAnxSzLmvibuIiWtQqwbU_8/s400/PC250381.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289860849383037074" /></a><br />Even the big kids get to have a little fun. I gave Danny a Bar-B-Que fork with a meat thermometer (her is a master of the grill). Unfortunately I had to leave the grill in Mesa because it wouldn't fit on the truck. Hind site is 20/20 and if I knew there would be no grill I wouldn't have rubbed salt in that particular wound.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjExy3KyKuk03I09LzWcAJHYxwHopMlF1cGu6p4cH-lDUtDWwwhH-3dfxGV-k_kHXd-hoKygdmruQd2FKgta-JaWzIaOyip_yjoN8trOMTSSO5cFn-KWOH-qhu1CBDcR3csciDOxDCVDc/s1600-h/PC250382.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjExy3KyKuk03I09LzWcAJHYxwHopMlF1cGu6p4cH-lDUtDWwwhH-3dfxGV-k_kHXd-hoKygdmruQd2FKgta-JaWzIaOyip_yjoN8trOMTSSO5cFn-KWOH-qhu1CBDcR3csciDOxDCVDc/s400/PC250382.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289860857606671170" /></a><br />Bug man LOVED his Air Hog. It is a remote controlled car that goes up walls and upside down (it is actually pretty cool).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEz5ZIfrwEessj3GZ4_bOege6V9aPzXO6YT7awb_dki8_qnMxuixRQiyZNrnOfmigv699ZRIiutVqX9nuZeL5_EOGssfvZEG9DhiuJHfqTqkl3x1ng0T51ccBx_in3aFRTMKvr2BmpFHc/s1600-h/PC250364.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEz5ZIfrwEessj3GZ4_bOege6V9aPzXO6YT7awb_dki8_qnMxuixRQiyZNrnOfmigv699ZRIiutVqX9nuZeL5_EOGssfvZEG9DhiuJHfqTqkl3x1ng0T51ccBx_in3aFRTMKvr2BmpFHc/s400/PC250364.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289859670329850946" /></a><br />Lou looking lovely.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKy-2Fnn0C9HPRookXzOnl5VYBEojrmpX2US18aTtEyGNEUlwrUD2dWMezj6voqfWn6UlI4y2w-CysfFUP5fKLKciDOZ_3wy4922ZqBiDJFNJ62jv21pKQr1Mq2VWalcbNUqzJD6jCCt8/s1600-h/PC250362.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKy-2Fnn0C9HPRookXzOnl5VYBEojrmpX2US18aTtEyGNEUlwrUD2dWMezj6voqfWn6UlI4y2w-CysfFUP5fKLKciDOZ_3wy4922ZqBiDJFNJ62jv21pKQr1Mq2VWalcbNUqzJD6jCCt8/s400/PC250362.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289859664036982562" /></a><br />Someone needs to give this girl a lesson on how to use a dart gun.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOvzcM9aVdu-faIOlJGqEUacbMYGtLzxF-RSsv7piXI8kRbsUeorb0nXyuT5FEh6zbAmzb7kVe17uESyUDWArpk8O_oEIKrv-T_VaODmIjyZ25ncmBgv9l9IPKeIVahHCrL7vlJSgcGs/s1600-h/PC250417.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOvzcM9aVdu-faIOlJGqEUacbMYGtLzxF-RSsv7piXI8kRbsUeorb0nXyuT5FEh6zbAmzb7kVe17uESyUDWArpk8O_oEIKrv-T_VaODmIjyZ25ncmBgv9l9IPKeIVahHCrL7vlJSgcGs/s400/PC250417.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289860871121033730" /></a><br />All the excitement took its toll on 2 of them. It was nice to have them sleep but they managed to do it in the middle of the floor.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13m7-uzv1zKw736Es9rUNcOcCSGrh8TxY9Of5c0DhtPDUtA7nA7Ja4d7WfAoosQjxLbFh5A15zFoZwQlGR0Fgk27TN5GNqCmHCzaC6rhqIAfRi_3KKf4vlTC3iMzpXcdNfo7O3q7buJE/s1600-h/PC250418.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13m7-uzv1zKw736Es9rUNcOcCSGrh8TxY9Of5c0DhtPDUtA7nA7Ja4d7WfAoosQjxLbFh5A15zFoZwQlGR0Fgk27TN5GNqCmHCzaC6rhqIAfRi_3KKf4vlTC3iMzpXcdNfo7O3q7buJE/s400/PC250418.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289860880461412514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZu4JbaaVQjVuUMIpSnvCFhddC88pJqag3iAkkbeNc1KV5k7f5Dws8hAqSMUdQdEERXqa7uXvOkjnt1OEYnW2RJDVfrnF3B0hRR6kPn9aIpEqzTIx2aKcsyaGtaWiUCsESJYJMbfolLiQ/s1600-h/PC250416.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZu4JbaaVQjVuUMIpSnvCFhddC88pJqag3iAkkbeNc1KV5k7f5Dws8hAqSMUdQdEERXqa7uXvOkjnt1OEYnW2RJDVfrnF3B0hRR6kPn9aIpEqzTIx2aKcsyaGtaWiUCsESJYJMbfolLiQ/s400/PC250416.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289860865948931362" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-83977138174796634102009-01-10T13:15:00.004-07:002009-01-10T19:30:37.624-07:00Christmas EveFor the first time ever we got a live Christmas tree. I was so excited and the guy gave us a deal(I think. I've never gotten a live tree before. $25 for the tree and the stand). I picked it out and left the rest up to the professionals.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBOjVc6AyvTWrAD-59Of0iaupSna-d23ZVqTduGhqYsqKLMapvIPveh1QH53J4E2dijtEcmTalcl85slkbLiscOmUr1JHuiGrF_8fGztAkyRHy111zXKVfYztlXPRa5L2m15u-jzzMS0/s1600-h/PC220270.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBOjVc6AyvTWrAD-59Of0iaupSna-d23ZVqTduGhqYsqKLMapvIPveh1QH53J4E2dijtEcmTalcl85slkbLiscOmUr1JHuiGrF_8fGztAkyRHy111zXKVfYztlXPRa5L2m15u-jzzMS0/s400/PC220270.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289763509287743714" /></a><br />Once we found the perfect tree, we had to get it home. Luckily we are just ghetto enough to make it work. We ran into trouble when we realized we didn't have a hammer at home to get the stand on the tree so we had to transport it all together. We ended up using a blanket we had just purchased (because it is cold here!!!).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDDpXh_SOBW7sGCiIWHMnC8PgQ_-WZ4TPmN_rfm8s9MeEIeD7WeyKwMZyK4QiAuKsLzh8T_Y3nN93jqoyj3VfKeCnkldvtlwLEyifZSqjMc9VPM5qG2aASfAGsUyn4fMgQtHhf5two2WE/s1600-h/PC220279.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDDpXh_SOBW7sGCiIWHMnC8PgQ_-WZ4TPmN_rfm8s9MeEIeD7WeyKwMZyK4QiAuKsLzh8T_Y3nN93jqoyj3VfKeCnkldvtlwLEyifZSqjMc9VPM5qG2aASfAGsUyn4fMgQtHhf5two2WE/s400/PC220279.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289763515244321074" /></a><br />Danny does the hard part. It is worse with the fake tree. If we don't continue getting live trees, we are getting a prelit one next year for sure.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSBabcLSU6iBf-YpjfH_3jqQ9P95bJns46ZUDkwtW1q2iHyGtOfqYefC_4HpiG-ntdWxjjxC-oB5a08XKk0z1zGfRzU0YpST0Axw5VS4JbbA0Gz68O8vuR4uLXBrs_W2LzJ6syI1wUbI/s1600-h/PC230285.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpSBabcLSU6iBf-YpjfH_3jqQ9P95bJns46ZUDkwtW1q2iHyGtOfqYefC_4HpiG-ntdWxjjxC-oB5a08XKk0z1zGfRzU0YpST0Axw5VS4JbbA0Gz68O8vuR4uLXBrs_W2LzJ6syI1wUbI/s400/PC230285.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289763523573528674" /></a><br />This is the finished product.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaJVOOFpGSVVe0g1GsP9-yx5_x20ZjfhFeBAPUhK5vpkE_bwiTlFM_Q8frbwQqiY75VV_vflnuS46QINUpnxCCIHMX0i8THDhwOgpJX4xEBmANHlXVWrRAC3EtqfEx4GcuBmw6AROF0is/s1600-h/PC230308.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaJVOOFpGSVVe0g1GsP9-yx5_x20ZjfhFeBAPUhK5vpkE_bwiTlFM_Q8frbwQqiY75VV_vflnuS46QINUpnxCCIHMX0i8THDhwOgpJX4xEBmANHlXVWrRAC3EtqfEx4GcuBmw6AROF0is/s400/PC230308.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289763531168382946" /></a><br />Magoo loves Christmas trees. We have to watch him because ornaments will dissapear. Thanksgoodness for "shatterproof."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDNdoYNpt-HzAeIC9s2zFwzPg8ynaFvh6zphwAYsftsi1vm82yCZyU8BBgj1gID5ELV42ngAOtvvSqvols3hreXZ-LqBzMP-BzWfYaZDQu-FuYGoaekSQFeZS6mYnG_t2aE_4ZnHZWyA/s1600-h/PC230313.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDNdoYNpt-HzAeIC9s2zFwzPg8ynaFvh6zphwAYsftsi1vm82yCZyU8BBgj1gID5ELV42ngAOtvvSqvols3hreXZ-LqBzMP-BzWfYaZDQu-FuYGoaekSQFeZS6mYnG_t2aE_4ZnHZWyA/s400/PC230313.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289763539529337698" /></a><br />These are my beautiful girls.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq9gjw8QTSVVnZ_fEjc_IHXP2H0D4S-Fg9tap7Z2R1UB5p7cgn58CmYkB4MC0odIg3ShJAvitLAZSQcgYbBGXQrtkJdUHQwii-96bk3Yof_2KZJbRXdN65U3A6dDUOu_lca5Uca72ZPhs/s1600-h/PC240317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq9gjw8QTSVVnZ_fEjc_IHXP2H0D4S-Fg9tap7Z2R1UB5p7cgn58CmYkB4MC0odIg3ShJAvitLAZSQcgYbBGXQrtkJdUHQwii-96bk3Yof_2KZJbRXdN65U3A6dDUOu_lca5Uca72ZPhs/s400/PC240317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289765013406393522" /></a><br />This is Koby opening his Christmas Eve present. He's a looker (he looks the most like his dad to me).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDuHoZRIDDMcKKSppEiiB3viDoZ1j-SEJ5hyphenhyphenIU1NlJR382sF0fEb7I5JVS4eS7hc11IzHMjMxyxO7nL4tCmL5vw8dnSAaMg8L8vKo_EhMbFSZM1LsDZ0ZkUrrJW88yXT4nDAp0QSyI_g/s1600-h/PC240331.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDuHoZRIDDMcKKSppEiiB3viDoZ1j-SEJ5hyphenhyphenIU1NlJR382sF0fEb7I5JVS4eS7hc11IzHMjMxyxO7nL4tCmL5vw8dnSAaMg8L8vKo_EhMbFSZM1LsDZ0ZkUrrJW88yXT4nDAp0QSyI_g/s400/PC240331.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289765024848044338" /></a><br />This is my little angel's first present ever. She feasted on the paper a little later.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh561yu6OHrtoWzCMpDYeRBRwvrFMp7fozQ04z7BHaGFyi4HJRz25FzzMRAhur0aQgkylOisJHI-zEPqc_bPKthFwltwPMgi2fumSfzbLK7PBbrA_Xn7WQsIK_NzeHQXLTMGdk9rSZmnqk/s1600-h/PC240320.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh561yu6OHrtoWzCMpDYeRBRwvrFMp7fozQ04z7BHaGFyi4HJRz25FzzMRAhur0aQgkylOisJHI-zEPqc_bPKthFwltwPMgi2fumSfzbLK7PBbrA_Xn7WQsIK_NzeHQXLTMGdk9rSZmnqk/s400/PC240320.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289765017560608802" /></a><br />I know it looks like Lou is in pain but this is her overexcited at the prospect of presents face. She really gets into it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuv2z6Fa3GWRZFhd4ZalrvG5dxJvQH_0YmxamOxqIwseSah8-_73pisAasFTX0YE4eL2IaS3T_4vF5p9qw4AsCf9EKxUA67JrAai_CH_1b0WuWs1T8f9UttdFlVh6Cb3sHqxDriNXO1o/s1600-h/PC240326.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuv2z6Fa3GWRZFhd4ZalrvG5dxJvQH_0YmxamOxqIwseSah8-_73pisAasFTX0YE4eL2IaS3T_4vF5p9qw4AsCf9EKxUA67JrAai_CH_1b0WuWs1T8f9UttdFlVh6Cb3sHqxDriNXO1o/s400/PC240326.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289765044711128706" /></a><br />As a child, every year for Christmas Eve (that I can remember) my parents gave us PJ's. I thought this was a fun tradition and we have carried it on in my family. Recently I shared this with my mother only to discover that the only reason she gave us pajamas was so that her kids didn't look like beggars half naked in her Christmas morning pictures.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICuLtpaiU_ZHNDtmM7wCzwM6XbpSJqCXQnzZ2eSdDNkhD9nb8a-LD2z7M2WV3LaTDHlIutAbPPEw1izKeoboEWkHTCZ4Kj7fyys4d1QNVKWP5v6k1492FGumbfJ6f9dR_C077bfz_PB0/s1600-h/PC240337.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICuLtpaiU_ZHNDtmM7wCzwM6XbpSJqCXQnzZ2eSdDNkhD9nb8a-LD2z7M2WV3LaTDHlIutAbPPEw1izKeoboEWkHTCZ4Kj7fyys4d1QNVKWP5v6k1492FGumbfJ6f9dR_C077bfz_PB0/s400/PC240337.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289765031940899474" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-84385855112480228602009-01-04T19:27:00.003-07:002009-01-04T19:36:04.121-07:00The Chaos That Surrounds MeThe elders were Great about helping us unload our overstuffed truck but things got put where ever there was an open space. For New Years I was robbed and then got to wake up to this. With 5 kids and the holidays, we are slowly picking our way through the mess. It is very slow going.<br /><br />I can attest that even a semi-clean house can make a difference in your attitude and outlook. I have been grouch for 2 weeks (longer then that if you ask Danny).<br /><br />We just have too much junk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1MEsL5H1diKzwGa6R4ZrUCEzfYx36ki4Lb8XEykLUe2MpL4mLVc9LtKgmxeydm03carn2FHOmIeC1VzJYWlPsC41bw2qBZobJ4UCOYNp2VHgY3SCumbFdRckLhIb1P9_s63JO9_B4-s/s1600-h/PC310582.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy1MEsL5H1diKzwGa6R4ZrUCEzfYx36ki4Lb8XEykLUe2MpL4mLVc9LtKgmxeydm03carn2FHOmIeC1VzJYWlPsC41bw2qBZobJ4UCOYNp2VHgY3SCumbFdRckLhIb1P9_s63JO9_B4-s/s400/PC310582.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632517744124946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DgC5dSw3I8i4UEb-SW3Vb9FHitNxr4NU99wtWAvfGsHY0Q3FxjhT_9mMOCmoT6ly76l-kjnCGDH1b5evNYNSbtcr9CQcPUBk6OXqHmGUO66aifQCKuhruUSBP2LnT5qWzF94xLq9dBg/s1600-h/P1020594.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7DgC5dSw3I8i4UEb-SW3Vb9FHitNxr4NU99wtWAvfGsHY0Q3FxjhT_9mMOCmoT6ly76l-kjnCGDH1b5evNYNSbtcr9CQcPUBk6OXqHmGUO66aifQCKuhruUSBP2LnT5qWzF94xLq9dBg/s400/P1020594.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632509302572386" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgWC70a8Xs9a26ieVzBDo_wg1IGuGqbVQXW1_WgFS_D0X5NYDNiArL-C0Wt_osD3CW06ENafSvEcil61VZLHYLySIhn5lM8AeiGXvtnv6dk_jL5I8Ed65X4cJD67G8KRH00LFOUWvQNc/s1600-h/P1020592.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgWC70a8Xs9a26ieVzBDo_wg1IGuGqbVQXW1_WgFS_D0X5NYDNiArL-C0Wt_osD3CW06ENafSvEcil61VZLHYLySIhn5lM8AeiGXvtnv6dk_jL5I8Ed65X4cJD67G8KRH00LFOUWvQNc/s400/P1020592.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632501525246866" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zXZ6lgr7QMt_vkbFbHak9JUwVXqMNs66-wPKm3AcM2xaT9M_W5vxqEUejWwKsN0Y8nqqNMJKm26iwK897fsySQlxdEJTYtxJ7QJStaGjMx1ZWhZje846-mJFYE4zV54y8pha1jxvKw0/s1600-h/P1020591.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zXZ6lgr7QMt_vkbFbHak9JUwVXqMNs66-wPKm3AcM2xaT9M_W5vxqEUejWwKsN0Y8nqqNMJKm26iwK897fsySQlxdEJTYtxJ7QJStaGjMx1ZWhZje846-mJFYE4zV54y8pha1jxvKw0/s400/P1020591.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632486984214946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYYaaEvJpp_clCxnSZtvfFtTxOOD90BQmQB2nfq0-2yB8AvJOi8F8zsVF8GvcWGczlcJGvWiclSQgR4EsNc0LD-ryt5aK1ognzRzvdWQ-B3t0rlqZnsXan15fwpSTXdNqIGCnq9We2Y4/s1600-h/P1020589.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYYaaEvJpp_clCxnSZtvfFtTxOOD90BQmQB2nfq0-2yB8AvJOi8F8zsVF8GvcWGczlcJGvWiclSQgR4EsNc0LD-ryt5aK1ognzRzvdWQ-B3t0rlqZnsXan15fwpSTXdNqIGCnq9We2Y4/s400/P1020589.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632480909842082" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-28593421296805314152009-01-04T19:01:00.003-07:002009-01-04T19:25:52.030-07:00The Big MoveWe didn't order a big enough moving truck. I guess when we said 2300 sq ft house they didn't count on Mormons with 5 kids. We ended up leaving a few things behind (desk, rocker, grill...) but every little thing I could fit got shoved into the van with the kids and the necessities. It made for a cozy trip.<br /><br />This is the passenger side. I had the move things just right so I could use the mirror because the back window was completely blocked.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53Ome9GUBJMxyQ9y929IGTUln2dcI3eFFXFEHbDt6-fTOr6E0jPNPf2OJPWcAwQA1HLwrRYmsV6DX01bRhqi5jMH26-0oFQDgoKEgvmi_8G8X38edHHNq0I_zk47pv5F1EBpVzSTwWVI/s1600-h/PC200245.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj53Ome9GUBJMxyQ9y929IGTUln2dcI3eFFXFEHbDt6-fTOr6E0jPNPf2OJPWcAwQA1HLwrRYmsV6DX01bRhqi5jMH26-0oFQDgoKEgvmi_8G8X38edHHNq0I_zk47pv5F1EBpVzSTwWVI/s400/PC200245.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287627381314754162" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpaQ07jCnLCVENLFa0M0Id-YKbtfKDCeG08tNN_6g-JWnKLncjf5H4SMXaUDgLLuAuMZP6buwS_r1en38bMwKvA0yInwwkGSDOUTioSc2-N0YWNd9rGaRtDwpWR3P9h2fADbV3OeOV5Y/s1600-h/PC200244.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpaQ07jCnLCVENLFa0M0Id-YKbtfKDCeG08tNN_6g-JWnKLncjf5H4SMXaUDgLLuAuMZP6buwS_r1en38bMwKvA0yInwwkGSDOUTioSc2-N0YWNd9rGaRtDwpWR3P9h2fADbV3OeOV5Y/s400/PC200244.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287627376817366466" /></a><br />This is a shot of the back seat. The kids were actually being good for a minute.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj167W6193Mp_W-Jbf4t29nZFgGvHnJ5_PyQKEndAQiUMeC91H87ejFIuNRfj-u6jE5RkwE8PuIyiH2FJPz7eBJnt1egUmVXXhtMOrtAN4wLALoJhGTcCYks231hpJBT1pwEevccyTQIrQ/s1600-h/PC200241.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj167W6193Mp_W-Jbf4t29nZFgGvHnJ5_PyQKEndAQiUMeC91H87ejFIuNRfj-u6jE5RkwE8PuIyiH2FJPz7eBJnt1egUmVXXhtMOrtAN4wLALoJhGTcCYks231hpJBT1pwEevccyTQIrQ/s400/PC200241.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287627370118993378" /></a><br />This is the floor in front of the back seat. No room to even walk.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzkwf2dYSZVFkeJ4fxOVlO8jmgp2vTSSez7u8m60SZSNkcJCfZdEMO0Mrn61AP8b72p3vnCeIehMOk5p7Gc2U3GvcE7VaqTpNUf5S2kzVfGnl33YEdmcs_eTKIdc_W8tYQI2uESBtdu4/s1600-h/PC200245.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzkwf2dYSZVFkeJ4fxOVlO8jmgp2vTSSez7u8m60SZSNkcJCfZdEMO0Mrn61AP8b72p3vnCeIehMOk5p7Gc2U3GvcE7VaqTpNUf5S2kzVfGnl33YEdmcs_eTKIdc_W8tYQI2uESBtdu4/s400/PC200245.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287625877437510818" /></a><br />On Sunday morning (the second day of our drive) we woke up early in an Amirillo hotel room after a long night of vomit and dogs barking (the hotel was "pet friendly") we got on the road early. I was a little punch drunk and forund great humor in seeing "The Largest Cross in the Western Hemisphere", I called my mom and couldn't stop laughing. I think she was a little worried about me. I was going to exit just for fun but decided to just pull to the side of the road. Some of the impact of the enormity of it is lost but I still chuckle a little when I look at the pictures.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55WNkCnT6hsi0Kgu-FprWW7q5P7-byWCZQ-CHj2u_KzEVFgGBIHeQbzZJpCJbdJT2oh898WFZu2QGtK_U2guantfp9LsWxANa772mPMfmDY0qbbNtZtm_Rwp86L36xWIRGoy24F6y99U/s1600-h/PC210248.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55WNkCnT6hsi0Kgu-FprWW7q5P7-byWCZQ-CHj2u_KzEVFgGBIHeQbzZJpCJbdJT2oh898WFZu2QGtK_U2guantfp9LsWxANa772mPMfmDY0qbbNtZtm_Rwp86L36xWIRGoy24F6y99U/s400/PC210248.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287625852879323202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuR5SyqqFOuevknFwCwKAx7Rm3IaIC57KZnSZIDbgUXaKM9-OSKjk4B2IAsX0omIFNBTCidYnvXAmpTQD1mdbzw6yfrmda-8fuBnYanDisEgjTb3madaS8UO_3VmuULtzdRrEtOtdBqo/s1600-h/PC210249.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuR5SyqqFOuevknFwCwKAx7Rm3IaIC57KZnSZIDbgUXaKM9-OSKjk4B2IAsX0omIFNBTCidYnvXAmpTQD1mdbzw6yfrmda-8fuBnYanDisEgjTb3madaS8UO_3VmuULtzdRrEtOtdBqo/s400/PC210249.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287625835126114578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4CeW3PKbTDjzdFB0pBD6T0a_2DIbNxN5s4hQ8ugZT_dcrae6xmbCl8Y5pAnXW6Ql9j6oirjTmJUaGemSRfwhTEk5bUVveoJ7X5EuYUX0XuxVZoTJsHZvB9ZrL3klFYWr0ELEU5NGfOU/s1600-h/PC210250.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4CeW3PKbTDjzdFB0pBD6T0a_2DIbNxN5s4hQ8ugZT_dcrae6xmbCl8Y5pAnXW6Ql9j6oirjTmJUaGemSRfwhTEk5bUVveoJ7X5EuYUX0XuxVZoTJsHZvB9ZrL3klFYWr0ELEU5NGfOU/s400/PC210250.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287625826668676386" /></a><br />In the end, we made it safe and sound.<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-33087690033779401582009-01-04T15:53:00.004-07:002009-01-04T18:56:18.345-07:00My Oldest turned 10!!! When did I get this old?For my oldest's birthday we went to Amazing Jakes. It was a half day at school so we got there around 1 pm, had some lunch, and then hit the floor. I bought 3 hour ride passes and we had so much fun with minature golf, lazer tag, bumper cars, go carts, roller coasters and more.<br /><br />For the first ride of the afternoon we chose the Mini Coaster. Lou was a little worried at first but Magoo begged and I let him go. The ride went around twice and Magoo shrieked like a banshee.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9UlE615PNdBz1t2AK_qnQGr0k3nTfT5aifnSqrr-0jHGp2V7FLtaum-lD17UAQ9TubGrDjC1b8QnG-c3p7ZtSwmcqc8ZlOYvi3voTp3rTv8aO1KUd6phFigXohfTmODZMwMvJoj9Yf-A/s1600-h/PC190081.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9UlE615PNdBz1t2AK_qnQGr0k3nTfT5aifnSqrr-0jHGp2V7FLtaum-lD17UAQ9TubGrDjC1b8QnG-c3p7ZtSwmcqc8ZlOYvi3voTp3rTv8aO1KUd6phFigXohfTmODZMwMvJoj9Yf-A/s400/PC190081.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287604966978788578" /></a><br />This is where he ended up for almost the rest of the day. I guess I picked the wrong ride to start with.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGksSe6RnkEXAHRuciBx_xZMJJobH10ptvKQc912YbwyFbvOh35NC3txYWECuvWk8O8L9dKhVbcO-xuSg61OVU1G3GTvf9vt7jcajFJQtR89S8TR_7ZHoSI6YWpL8zzC_s7i3S7DU0tnk/s1600-h/PC190087.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGksSe6RnkEXAHRuciBx_xZMJJobH10ptvKQc912YbwyFbvOh35NC3txYWECuvWk8O8L9dKhVbcO-xuSg61OVU1G3GTvf9vt7jcajFJQtR89S8TR_7ZHoSI6YWpL8zzC_s7i3S7DU0tnk/s400/PC190087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287604975149273154" /></a><br />Emmie chilled out the whole time. Now that she sits up on her own she is enjoying a whole new type of freedom.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtg7DBRYHbOHHbxlVjliAE9Gg6AnMRnpRCFBVfWh3v1YDBUDOz3YLvOV0LzVTbpY88weFmdUU91241ETgJqBtm7C78UMmhUt-mZAmhydIPdvDspJudl6tmXhvl5cCCKv5Yh_b4xuzMPs/s1600-h/PC190135.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtg7DBRYHbOHHbxlVjliAE9Gg6AnMRnpRCFBVfWh3v1YDBUDOz3YLvOV0LzVTbpY88weFmdUU91241ETgJqBtm7C78UMmhUt-mZAmhydIPdvDspJudl6tmXhvl5cCCKv5Yh_b4xuzMPs/s400/PC190135.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287609082488260914" /></a><br />Look! My boys do like each other sometimes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOQNY02xMzvzGrk0RBvu2hw10_pF4ju0h0o0qjpyCJHg_x4_qcVx7Wcn5CoPyRn2Wa1UqjcYbM4CffMPl9Z2jjFPjkpjU3vJuid5senu79ExhpWmTLiyh3RCMlmrIzKm6pWyrljlv_SA/s1600-h/PC190192.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUOQNY02xMzvzGrk0RBvu2hw10_pF4ju0h0o0qjpyCJHg_x4_qcVx7Wcn5CoPyRn2Wa1UqjcYbM4CffMPl9Z2jjFPjkpjU3vJuid5senu79ExhpWmTLiyh3RCMlmrIzKm6pWyrljlv_SA/s400/PC190192.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287607319204257282" /></a><br />The big man tackles the big wall.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZU8cy7UATqLXUeEsAAeNjdfbr0NlZ2YBJ8sVzvTcIBy9X-IFX-FC87p4-Gr2Jtp9oNX3pBIzARMSxdnHKRA4xYeTrIpgXQH4F0wy9vepdd_oEFNwo5eZe6Om275iyxiDTTkiH9JeoBk/s1600-h/PC190148.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZU8cy7UATqLXUeEsAAeNjdfbr0NlZ2YBJ8sVzvTcIBy9X-IFX-FC87p4-Gr2Jtp9oNX3pBIzARMSxdnHKRA4xYeTrIpgXQH4F0wy9vepdd_oEFNwo5eZe6Om275iyxiDTTkiH9JeoBk/s400/PC190148.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287604993601842258" /></a><br />Lou wanted to try the wall also (she said that this time she was big enough) but after an attempt and a smile she gave her harness to the big boys for their fun.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_es5WDlRty9afOmztv-DAxRIu0Knyg3P2HS3qRh9xyNQ5gGeMqDIU-a3xsjl-ReNG_0_GvN6WZY19jDjoPwpFO7m1nUOD8XUbV6VI6_euUqqM_kQ4nuY6r3PXV7OKUTVl0VTAplyZ84/s1600-h/PC190238.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_es5WDlRty9afOmztv-DAxRIu0Knyg3P2HS3qRh9xyNQ5gGeMqDIU-a3xsjl-ReNG_0_GvN6WZY19jDjoPwpFO7m1nUOD8XUbV6VI6_euUqqM_kQ4nuY6r3PXV7OKUTVl0VTAplyZ84/s400/PC190238.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287609077090957682" /></a><br />Bug joined Lou in her love of all things spinny and fast (before he threw up).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyvy3V7eJ983kMPq7mCRnIAH_FPhaKBP2ydrIY1l3Wkg_GH3JZDVa1iB6imMnTWAbVtx4vGjQDgp5hahnF3TpUuPaao3iaxuahQm-ISftp9nWUv_AGHsBfFbW0MF1LozwzUZ172flFxk/s1600-h/PC190163.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyvy3V7eJ983kMPq7mCRnIAH_FPhaKBP2ydrIY1l3Wkg_GH3JZDVa1iB6imMnTWAbVtx4vGjQDgp5hahnF3TpUuPaao3iaxuahQm-ISftp9nWUv_AGHsBfFbW0MF1LozwzUZ172flFxk/s400/PC190163.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287604999354275986" /></a><br />Finally, 2 minutes before the unlimited pass expired, he let me take him on the carousel. He held his frown for most of the ride but a smile creeped in at the very end. It didn't stick around for too long though. He wanted to go again but the ride pass expired so I said no and he wasn't very happy with me.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUlrGBGjAVNf-rs63memnHMJnX_fcL7p0CH7ObyvDFkywXD43iKOHSeOmRLUVMX2VmfkAKEORF5xMBpLVx-TWN7Rbys1ySttwjTDIalaOq4qsYsIvNC1XN2Kdg5bsdI3G04iABagG2p8/s1600-h/PC190195.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUlrGBGjAVNf-rs63memnHMJnX_fcL7p0CH7ObyvDFkywXD43iKOHSeOmRLUVMX2VmfkAKEORF5xMBpLVx-TWN7Rbys1ySttwjTDIalaOq4qsYsIvNC1XN2Kdg5bsdI3G04iABagG2p8/s400/PC190195.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287607345957741074" /></a><br />Lou always looks like a model mugging for the cameras.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlYX-Acx63uy7qWaw1TGkT6AH6KNXbmUGLhHh2FO9yPEurG_vD6FKsjgvuK5tNf4KhlmHzQL15OTbl2Syy0xSn9Jig6IsBnWNQfnXmPI7JevDNnpkW7QY2GpdLbb1pdeqQVj969MZTTw/s1600-h/PC190197.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRlYX-Acx63uy7qWaw1TGkT6AH6KNXbmUGLhHh2FO9yPEurG_vD6FKsjgvuK5tNf4KhlmHzQL15OTbl2Syy0xSn9Jig6IsBnWNQfnXmPI7JevDNnpkW7QY2GpdLbb1pdeqQVj969MZTTw/s400/PC190197.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287607326136869298" /></a><br />Half way through the fun Russel, Lindsay, and Calvin showed up to join in the fun.<br />Calvin seemed to enjoy all the food and noise. If my kids do anything for Calvin it would be entertain him.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaYwwZQYyzcNSK2L05KVLaSnp6BC-uKlmWHZNk02wC7sOfK1YiSLatSJO0eAFlNRmhCSAb0dgRFs1NNl7wvnmG_BdxeJrDOHyXsWYcRIxpBM-q69DIe0LQxwYnItN8ZjDR9YtadyS8AdA/s1600-h/PC190228.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaYwwZQYyzcNSK2L05KVLaSnp6BC-uKlmWHZNk02wC7sOfK1YiSLatSJO0eAFlNRmhCSAb0dgRFs1NNl7wvnmG_BdxeJrDOHyXsWYcRIxpBM-q69DIe0LQxwYnItN8ZjDR9YtadyS8AdA/s400/PC190228.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287609066130923506" /></a><br />Uncle Russel felt a old standing in the lazer tag line but I bet he didn't let his age stop him from beating the little kids at tag and rubbing it in.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy28KBaADNCWrkNSRoJEtbs8lNnJFn3KYkfch6HCdT2___DzXxk9fx73A3Jioj2sDRpRT6uo9fLx62PBBxe_A8KA534_8AuKqJW0hXRyiBfwRCcG5Ad-y-2cf7_a_IUL_ybWbTzER2OwE/s1600-h/PC190170.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy28KBaADNCWrkNSRoJEtbs8lNnJFn3KYkfch6HCdT2___DzXxk9fx73A3Jioj2sDRpRT6uo9fLx62PBBxe_A8KA534_8AuKqJW0hXRyiBfwRCcG5Ad-y-2cf7_a_IUL_ybWbTzER2OwE/s400/PC190170.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287607314536500866" /></a><br />Once the unlimited passes ran out we went back to open presents and eat diner. I am all about getting my money's worth.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOySJqbkhJCdurUeNotHtlWJnqaaZGDrJQTv48K7w5r_fKWMdnqtayOzj1ch6NNCO3BsokaDfoUjeK3iuveTDWfn1EH3P_Eu32cMidwcrpEufGm4qHu5AmdWIHObe2r-aLV9Tp5VbmHw/s1600-h/PC190225.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOySJqbkhJCdurUeNotHtlWJnqaaZGDrJQTv48K7w5r_fKWMdnqtayOzj1ch6NNCO3BsokaDfoUjeK3iuveTDWfn1EH3P_Eu32cMidwcrpEufGm4qHu5AmdWIHObe2r-aLV9Tp5VbmHw/s400/PC190225.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287609063989394450" /></a><br />All the fun took its toll. Even on the big kids.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXFPj-3t0kyAmTUfNTH-jHpmTFVopOa62UzKI6CtQjm8JosZONTrS0oKq7HIKruUzf630J3zYLGVbHHJx6xDjkIwq7L7EbHl5K0uPS_yxGBVAauqV1jr7AIUWLMP55vdNf5GBpdAp6_SA/s1600-h/PC190217.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXFPj-3t0kyAmTUfNTH-jHpmTFVopOa62UzKI6CtQjm8JosZONTrS0oKq7HIKruUzf630J3zYLGVbHHJx6xDjkIwq7L7EbHl5K0uPS_yxGBVAauqV1jr7AIUWLMP55vdNf5GBpdAp6_SA/s400/PC190217.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287609052507588754" /></a><br />You can always count on Magoo to eat his weight in pizza.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXYMkkjJHpqFY_wQzBYseznbHd5VX-c-ntw8TUebcKGCC9iJ5ltPp2PcSoDGeOGK24ogX1eQkh8Vg92LTN0nP16vTQ_EdSBCCUSukIT2PnMPXptDxYkcF-GWnvDN8NwgAwU7ZZEE2ISJ0/s1600-h/PC190214.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXYMkkjJHpqFY_wQzBYseznbHd5VX-c-ntw8TUebcKGCC9iJ5ltPp2PcSoDGeOGK24ogX1eQkh8Vg92LTN0nP16vTQ_EdSBCCUSukIT2PnMPXptDxYkcF-GWnvDN8NwgAwU7ZZEE2ISJ0/s400/PC190214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287607334463704626" /></a><br />Everyone loves the baby.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK39amixF_wVMzUS8amdHs5c7XO3DzOySgx093hMj943CJLyw0i-t2ggLRM_KxaAnZI6HVAuupG-G99rjZ_-TRdwyU9gFmCdiKKzGK8pASvto-6D0hR0z2-C9vSIPgCQrczfBi78qnKVA/s1600-h/PC190077.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK39amixF_wVMzUS8amdHs5c7XO3DzOySgx093hMj943CJLyw0i-t2ggLRM_KxaAnZI6HVAuupG-G99rjZ_-TRdwyU9gFmCdiKKzGK8pASvto-6D0hR0z2-C9vSIPgCQrczfBi78qnKVA/s400/PC190077.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287604953072926306" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-37789531040630383072009-01-04T15:47:00.001-07:002009-01-04T15:52:58.810-07:00Gutair Hero Jr.This is what Calvin did duringt the packing extravaganza.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGoVkmuux8sgYuNhIOCjdf-ExsULOM1th1vDpPM9w7CpDQjhVgscf3Cn9jHiyVhyX0vWDv3eLbFFiPsLVyoVltpmlOfzbcyDyWzVlXLlhz2bNd2iQf2KVfaMeMuW9U6U7-Tf10Sy7AZ4/s1600-h/PC180062.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGoVkmuux8sgYuNhIOCjdf-ExsULOM1th1vDpPM9w7CpDQjhVgscf3Cn9jHiyVhyX0vWDv3eLbFFiPsLVyoVltpmlOfzbcyDyWzVlXLlhz2bNd2iQf2KVfaMeMuW9U6U7-Tf10Sy7AZ4/s400/PC180062.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287575043161303394" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNQvXGeI2IQ2jAEKLL6w58P81xoUIk3jFkE5sherqn7jr2r-IyQwzeu9r0lFAtV-Kq4Gbjaa9pShPHoIooE3VcMdeTQxjT9hH5fmvQg0aXm9A4doi0E0OauUsQPP-yRpV_I2zpXPHJJ4/s1600-h/PC180058.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNQvXGeI2IQ2jAEKLL6w58P81xoUIk3jFkE5sherqn7jr2r-IyQwzeu9r0lFAtV-Kq4Gbjaa9pShPHoIooE3VcMdeTQxjT9hH5fmvQg0aXm9A4doi0E0OauUsQPP-yRpV_I2zpXPHJJ4/s400/PC180058.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287575038245853810" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHj9JguQ3d-0PentJ1TtsGWyx1Q16GZBR2HWFQ6VK30vzMc21BQ-NFGbDHWD2Swh3ji40VZXzZCQwfGr-QQm8I0ydeuWIBwYHMKigdo6kcNURGhDSjhNNitjjBJQSRIMGVUcWW8we8iw/s1600-h/PC180060.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHj9JguQ3d-0PentJ1TtsGWyx1Q16GZBR2HWFQ6VK30vzMc21BQ-NFGbDHWD2Swh3ji40VZXzZCQwfGr-QQm8I0ydeuWIBwYHMKigdo6kcNURGhDSjhNNitjjBJQSRIMGVUcWW8we8iw/s400/PC180060.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287575027626796098" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-81932421533598686782009-01-03T11:42:00.002-07:002009-01-03T12:31:38.658-07:00December 14, 2008On Sunday Dec. 14, 2008 we went to Russell and Lindsay's for our final Sunday dinner in Arizona. We got to decorate cookies and open some presents while there. It was a great way to spend our last Sunday. We sure will miss having family around.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4Qf7hLV1q0orgOev8iD1Vq5U9VZhP1AV8_TGTkdPTLnmUVH1cMP1L-bDgrF9maEp1NOjgbA9KFnbMCxq187Y7_LdUz1TNWhCAKQY6acHOJNuU8g32wAaLoE9ea7Zo0K7RDKhiaxuUvw/s1600-h/PC140001.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB4Qf7hLV1q0orgOev8iD1Vq5U9VZhP1AV8_TGTkdPTLnmUVH1cMP1L-bDgrF9maEp1NOjgbA9KFnbMCxq187Y7_LdUz1TNWhCAKQY6acHOJNuU8g32wAaLoE9ea7Zo0K7RDKhiaxuUvw/s400/PC140001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287142055321090882" /></a><br />We have competitive cookie baker Aunt Lindsay to help for our Sunday feast and about a million cookies. (I ate about 1/3 of them and Russell made a bit of a dent in the pile as well.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytY3_1PF3Rs_mzjtLiRLxsFQnoIa8b2gw5c3ZhOV45Y1DlsbMLdXd586oVZuhfXzNzCATonCdUAJ3ToT2UxI9MlDk9t7w1enCfEOZECjgN0r-Lpil5I_b3XiabvxCupnngPnX6Xm-a8E/s1600-h/PC140007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytY3_1PF3Rs_mzjtLiRLxsFQnoIa8b2gw5c3ZhOV45Y1DlsbMLdXd586oVZuhfXzNzCATonCdUAJ3ToT2UxI9MlDk9t7w1enCfEOZECjgN0r-Lpil5I_b3XiabvxCupnngPnX6Xm-a8E/s400/PC140007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287142058876724082" /></a><br />Emmie is always my little angel just chillin' out.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXdCig7JQ-e5vOU_-rvAgMM90PYUTur7rkVp5zYFet77Dksd2iao7otd5EBBTJruxzrOJnJdcI2iEA-K_8VPSEWgHW7mlyTDag1_f8ZarHEzpCiFPUVObn7Y_FSdLha9d9vZYjTCoHys/s1600-h/PC140010.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXdCig7JQ-e5vOU_-rvAgMM90PYUTur7rkVp5zYFet77Dksd2iao7otd5EBBTJruxzrOJnJdcI2iEA-K_8VPSEWgHW7mlyTDag1_f8ZarHEzpCiFPUVObn7Y_FSdLha9d9vZYjTCoHys/s400/PC140010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287142067395810530" /></a><br />We also opened up our presents early (before the big move). My kids love anything that is wrapped.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrbKeyqHneDligsqbTgUEqEgjKqkX9qBrcVlG5yOtN2AyolrKAAVLgXfAXGtfvsuAHHJvj65k3OmtFqMOIn3C9l_zkazAOc582JAV8q0ZaORK8uGf7x5fBG4c0lss0JU03tQ8T4MTWoQ/s1600-h/PC140015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNrbKeyqHneDligsqbTgUEqEgjKqkX9qBrcVlG5yOtN2AyolrKAAVLgXfAXGtfvsuAHHJvj65k3OmtFqMOIn3C9l_zkazAOc582JAV8q0ZaORK8uGf7x5fBG4c0lss0JU03tQ8T4MTWoQ/s400/PC140015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287142076564858114" /></a><br />Calvin got a little help opening up his present.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_J2fCz59FrVQSJ6gPIrVM2fktJ4MvHVaR7pyEIBXVe0mcmuQLiOUoQk5NQF7uIJt1gSLBWLgjkkzGOC6XfFaYkAdQrF_PCkH4hdzZa8twQwWR4VEnidQaGAnOKSeLwZ3zpALGAZFxgMs/s1600-h/PC140021.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_J2fCz59FrVQSJ6gPIrVM2fktJ4MvHVaR7pyEIBXVe0mcmuQLiOUoQk5NQF7uIJt1gSLBWLgjkkzGOC6XfFaYkAdQrF_PCkH4hdzZa8twQwWR4VEnidQaGAnOKSeLwZ3zpALGAZFxgMs/s400/PC140021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287142084208027330" /></a><br />After we stuffed ourselves with good eats and family fun we hurried off to see the Christmas lights at the Mesa, AZ Temple. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQb1_VpiCgYmKCXUcJtusI5uBm1wE51XJpFZsZNaHzOKsI6pZ7VELasxc2uyurP6GvKv5TJ0-OBwHYS5wlM9a6SKU5LQONbcdRi7BaeuN2E_TNW4QId0Q5Zu8vt4GgpRCGtnIQ_8lA3E/s1600-h/PC140031.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwQb1_VpiCgYmKCXUcJtusI5uBm1wE51XJpFZsZNaHzOKsI6pZ7VELasxc2uyurP6GvKv5TJ0-OBwHYS5wlM9a6SKU5LQONbcdRi7BaeuN2E_TNW4QId0Q5Zu8vt4GgpRCGtnIQ_8lA3E/s400/PC140031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287146733776491106" /></a><br />We will miss walking around the grounds of this beautiful place.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbPI0OXUDVvg4owqd869gn3vHp_RL6FmzclLtyBRR778C4ArcZsPzt2IaC6WCMJ8Wqo6QFGH-k1Nqho2FYOl7fN4wcre2UirBiYKmCPVsrQ42PwhJVvN3o2HMEvwr590KHHJQGlloVwI/s1600-h/PC140027.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAbPI0OXUDVvg4owqd869gn3vHp_RL6FmzclLtyBRR778C4ArcZsPzt2IaC6WCMJ8Wqo6QFGH-k1Nqho2FYOl7fN4wcre2UirBiYKmCPVsrQ42PwhJVvN3o2HMEvwr590KHHJQGlloVwI/s400/PC140027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287146708231316946" /></a><br />The kids always get a kick out of the bright lights and pretty decorations.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlnHhgYpp9ki5_gvqvDLc9NrLD8IeqLn5OGMwHpXoDLFewY8Sy5WqPzrtZeRKIuHMi7zG7RGI2HwGZg6k5Q1ihpnAIUfI2ra-jnUb3EXW-xiv9zb2pz78uwfwXLV06RaZD5cmfUAGyjY/s1600-h/PC140057.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVlnHhgYpp9ki5_gvqvDLc9NrLD8IeqLn5OGMwHpXoDLFewY8Sy5WqPzrtZeRKIuHMi7zG7RGI2HwGZg6k5Q1ihpnAIUfI2ra-jnUb3EXW-xiv9zb2pz78uwfwXLV06RaZD5cmfUAGyjY/s400/PC140057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287146726781966770" /></a><br />This year (as it is every year if we would just learn) it was colder then we thought (mid 50's) and we had to bundle Emmie while we listened to the LDS/Catholic Choir.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ltBiWdJvN7KPu2zb-PJcB6cxyW79i5hDzAwv6N84Y2mcgDFG6oVPkeQkMQ460HMKvMMt2ArMUqdTzFb8ODrr-WayFDNrIu527XQfWQz71qsC85RNTPAUoj9wKpEXMNGuMNWKWAwUHkM/s1600-h/PC140026.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ltBiWdJvN7KPu2zb-PJcB6cxyW79i5hDzAwv6N84Y2mcgDFG6oVPkeQkMQ460HMKvMMt2ArMUqdTzFb8ODrr-WayFDNrIu527XQfWQz71qsC85RNTPAUoj9wKpEXMNGuMNWKWAwUHkM/s400/PC140026.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287146723233517314" /></a><br />Only is Arizona will you see blooming Orange trees wrapped in Christmas lights (they might have been grapefruits).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiWI10Pr7fGg_a88ipefrTHbAt876f7BD3XjOGpUdkTdRkx0FuwInA1gn0G5YUspI5Rum_FttNc6V5mV2syf4Yy06EUnmAdm_UMaoEPloHnjuMELdRXdrRUBf5RVFrxLXAvhjgu_vv1E4/s1600-h/PC140024.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiWI10Pr7fGg_a88ipefrTHbAt876f7BD3XjOGpUdkTdRkx0FuwInA1gn0G5YUspI5Rum_FttNc6V5mV2syf4Yy06EUnmAdm_UMaoEPloHnjuMELdRXdrRUBf5RVFrxLXAvhjgu_vv1E4/s400/PC140024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287146706636917730" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-42699945956893848982008-12-29T10:26:00.002-07:002008-12-29T10:29:34.345-07:00It helps that my left blinker doesn't work and I carry a paintball gun for protection.This will be my first post form the great state of Kansas (I will be posting a plethora of pictures later, including the largest cross in the western hemisphere. I can tell you are already salivating but I have to find my camera cord first). It is cold, windy, and road construction prevents me from turning left…EVER. I live very near the ghetto and I am pretty sure that someone was kidnapped from the mall that is about 7 minutes up the road from us on the day before Christmas (they found her alive later that same day). There are no turn lanes and I had to take a toll road to get here. <br /><br />In short, I think I like it here. I have been to the mall twice (I usually avoid the mall like the plague because of my many littuns but my husband has been off work since we got here and I am leaving all of them with him every chance I get. It’s called payback and he has a lot of it coming.). They have a pretzel place and everything is on clearance (it is like heaven for a frugal shopper like myself). <br /><br />It is chilly when the wind blows but I have a very stylish down feather jacket that makes me look skinny and I do love to wear sweaters. When the wind doesn’t blow, it is actually quite nice. The sun doesn’t melt the average human who mistakenly steps into it. I could get used to it. <br /><br />We have only been to church once but it seems really cool. The ward is small but friendly and they all seem really nice. I wonder how long it will take me to tick one or all of them off. Not that I am trying, it just happens to be a common side effect of my being.<br /><br />The one down side is those darn tornados. The weather has been so erratic that I have already not slept thorough one of those warnings. Nothing happened but just the warnings are enough to frazzle a mother with no rope (I have formulated a foolproof emergency plan that requires duct tape, a length of rope, candles, and a cement room with 6 outlets. More on that later).<br /><br />I have also been alerted to the best eatery in the Wichita Metro area (This is super important to a chubby girl). It is called Freddie’s Frozen Custard. I have not yet enjoyed the custard (it is freezing as I mentioned before) but the fries are better then bacon and the burgers are yummy. I am sure this joint will kill me with clogged arteries but it might just be worth it.<br /><br />This place has also had a very desirable effect on my husband as well. Since he has been here (he got here in September) he sent me flowers (2nd time in 11 years) and he wasn’t even in any specific trouble (I have been a little grouchy being a single mom of 5 for so long but that was more a continual state). Then, for our 11th anniversary, he got me diamond earrings (Generally I am not a girlie-girl who would enjoy or even wear bling of any kind but this was surprisingly pleasing to me. I might have a little girlie streak in me after all) and they are real. I was sure that spending real amounts of money on anything that is not technological might literally kill him. It is a nice development of a more then stressful moving process.<br /><br />I invite any and all to come and visit (you might have to wait until some of our crap is put away or burned). We are centrally located and willing to be a pit sop on a much longer journey. I will take you to Freddie’s and show you my ghetto. Spring is prime tornado time so, depending on if you are a thrill seeker or not, you might want to plan accordingly. <br /><br />For those of you who know me and care, my phone number is the same for now but will be changing eventually and I will let you know when it does. If any of you out there want my address drop me an email and I will get it to you ASAP. <br /><br />Until next time, I hope that all of you had a Very Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year. I feel that my family is and has been very blessed and I wish the same for each of you. I promise that you will have a wonderful year if you look for the good and laugh about the bad (after you are done crying a little if that helps). Plenty of faith and a good sense of humor will change your life if you let it.<br /><br />Love to All,<br />Katy<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-71349276742481536912008-12-11T09:21:00.004-07:002008-12-11T09:47:47.669-07:00No, it's not what you think. What you are seeing is pride.I am so completely pleased with me. Why? Because I usually make ID badge lanyards for the kid's teachers for Christmas (I figure they have enough soap) but this year Lou has a teacher that has taught one of my kiddos before and therefore has her lanyard so I got creative and this is what I made for her. I hope she likes it because I was so pleased that I almost decided to keep it to show off my massive skills.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOIGut__VZRRBy48XWSfs5yGTuufjeg5fHmFmRvRwm8DDU-3zp_p-6vjHAvapt-CYfyC04a44oFPv6kVkppn01fDOYwYLI7uGMdXys2knY947SrYshILMtWFr7gi1qWJ_sRuq_gw6hMas/s1600-h/PC100057.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOIGut__VZRRBy48XWSfs5yGTuufjeg5fHmFmRvRwm8DDU-3zp_p-6vjHAvapt-CYfyC04a44oFPv6kVkppn01fDOYwYLI7uGMdXys2knY947SrYshILMtWFr7gi1qWJ_sRuq_gw6hMas/s400/PC100057.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278569797540715042" /></a><br />OK, so maybe the picture isn't great but I still have the pride and pleasure of accomplishment and ingenuity. What do you think?<div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4067454447086107390.post-80653904874105998102008-12-06T12:15:00.002-07:002008-12-06T12:17:47.499-07:00Merry Christmas - Carroll Style (as in my family not the music of the holidays)<div style='background-color:#e9e9e9; width: 425px;'><object id='A315501' quality='high' data='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=szts0ViXRSprcHpQ&service=sendables.jibjab.com&partnerID=ElfYourself' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' height='319' width='425'><param name='wmode' value='transparent'></param><param name='movie' value='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=szts0ViXRSprcHpQ&service=sendables.jibjab.com&partnerID=ElfYourself'></param><param name='scaleMode' value='showAll'></param><param name='quality' value='high'></param><param name='allowNetworking' value='all'></param><param name='allowFullScreen' value='true' /><param name='FlashVars' value='external_make_id=szts0ViXRSprcHpQ&service=sendables.jibjab.com&partnerID=ElfYourself'></param><param name='allowScriptAccess' value='always'></param></object><div style='text-align:center; width:435px; margin-top:6px;'>Send your own <a href='http://www.elfyourself.com'>ElfYourself</a> <a href='http://sendables.jibjab.com/sendables'>eCards</a></div></div><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjg1OTAxOTUwMTUmcHQ9MTIyODU5MDc3MDgxMiZwPTQxODgxMyZkPTIwMjY3NSZnPTImdD*mbz1hODE3NWU*YWQwMjY*Zjg5YTM3NjRkNTY4N2VhZDNkNQ==.gif" /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Katy - The Coolest Person you never knew you always wanted to be.</div>Katyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881659032305476382noreply@blogger.com0