tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55683230821337062972024-03-13T05:44:10.098-05:00Same Persons, Different DayLisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-14181230170353546722010-11-02T21:07:00.003-05:002010-11-02T21:20:09.224-05:00Soup Swap: Italian Sausage Tortellin and Potato SoupOkay Holly, you convinced me so here you go! Great idea, thanks! The first recipe I got from a popular blog, "Big Mama." This may be one of my favorite soups ever, it is awesome and my kids love it, too!! The second came from a good friend of mine, Brooke. I hope you all enjoy them as the weather finally cools off!!<br /><br /><style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }p { margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; font-size: 10pt; font-family: Times; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><span style="font-size:16pt;">Italian Sausage Tortellini Soup </span></strong><span style="font-size:16pt;"></span></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="font-size:16pt;">1 pound Italian sausage, casings removed (mild or spicy depending on your preference)</span></em><span style="font-size:16pt;"><br /><em>1 large onion, chopped</em><br /><em>2 cloves garlic, minced</em><br /><em>5 cups beef stock</em><br /><em>1/3 cup water</em><br /><em>1/2 cup red wine</em><br /><em>28 oz. can peeled tomatoes, chopped</em><br /><em>4 carrots, chopped</em><br /><em>1/2 tsp. dried basil</em><br /><em>1/2 tsp. dried oregano</em><br /><em>8 oz. can tomato sauce</em><br /><em>3 zucchini, chopped</em><br /><em>8 ounces cheese tortellini</em><br /><em>1 green bell pepper, chopped</em><br /><em>1 tbs. chopped fresh parsley</em><br /><em>Grated parmesan cheese for topping</em></span><span style="font-size:16pt;"></span></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="font-size:16pt;">Brown the sausage in a large pot. Drain all the grease except for 1 tablespoon, then add the onions and garlic and saute for 5 more minutes.</span></em><span style="font-size:16pt;"></span></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="font-size:16pt;">Add the beef stock, water, wine, tomatoes, carrots, basil, oregano and tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer for 30 minutes.</span></em><span style="font-size:16pt;"></span></span></p> <p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span style="font-size:16pt;">Add the zucchini, tortellini, green bell pepper and parsley. Simmer until tortellini is cooked (about 8-10 minutes). Serve in bowls topped with grated parmesan cheese. </span></em></span><span style="font-size:16pt;"></span></p> <br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Potato Soup<br /><br /></span>8 cups frozen potatoes (cubed)<br />3 14.5 oz cans chicken broth<br />1 small onion, chopped<br />1/4 tsp salt<br />1/4 tsp pepper<br />1 1/2 cups half and half<br />3 cans cream of chicken soup<br />24 oz. Velveeta cheese<br />bacon bits<br />chopped green onions<br />shredded cheddar<br /><br />Bring all ingredients to a boil except soup and cheese. Cover, reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir in the soup and return to a simmer. Add cheese and stir until melted. Top with green onions, shredded cheddar and bacon bits, if desired.</span>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-9117045303060741042009-10-20T13:09:00.004-05:002009-10-20T20:46:47.310-05:001 MonthSo, this is a couple of weeks late, but here is Tripp at one month:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0rp0zVZil-TuAYw35a5f5Vomdca695AjjIEeLNKo-MiWxwrD2pmlxhaThIVg-W9caaB-zDwHVtUCCdBgI1sjyQIubU3Hozi_nWlFKboC-EVaVYf_gp1UiCS1UvxxvdE6yLy09aVm_a6s/s1600-h/PA110237.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0rp0zVZil-TuAYw35a5f5Vomdca695AjjIEeLNKo-MiWxwrD2pmlxhaThIVg-W9caaB-zDwHVtUCCdBgI1sjyQIubU3Hozi_nWlFKboC-EVaVYf_gp1UiCS1UvxxvdE6yLy09aVm_a6s/s320/PA110237.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394746635969212146" border="0" /></a>At his one month check-up he was 8 pounds and 14 ounces and 21 inches long. It is amazing that in 4 weeks he has gained 2 pounds 13 ounces and has grown an inch and a half!<br /><br />The sisters are still in love and think they have a baby doll with which to play.<br /><br />Daddy and his boy:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVS9rmvX3HpJgubOyBzPnVEIFsE9IBI7DJz7DyT_V7qmTuLZ6ZfcSkQDkTT4k_loqB09-KERchu20RH94J9htdrHKMw0F22dFUYN_U_kzb3fUbaEEq9pJRSubn5KotgC9BjTiymrX0PbE/s1600-h/P9060077.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVS9rmvX3HpJgubOyBzPnVEIFsE9IBI7DJz7DyT_V7qmTuLZ6ZfcSkQDkTT4k_loqB09-KERchu20RH94J9htdrHKMw0F22dFUYN_U_kzb3fUbaEEq9pJRSubn5KotgC9BjTiymrX0PbE/s320/P9060077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394861999983597266" border="0" /></a>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-30125141947942815672009-09-09T10:55:00.007-05:002009-09-09T12:12:56.362-05:00It's A Boy!!Wow. I still cannot believe it. The girls were right! All along they have said it was a brother and here he is:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4bVyW86XIMr5oytQgO-AXpkyQr-pPcARUl7GjIOwVqQMAk9KsO1wuJboF1AIrwAPNGjqOwS11UYe4xXW8dtEeOyCiHsy98h8NNwhdKdhiKsMpLLH3-THKIsSzvCEkHTZ7V6uv6ptNwQ/s1600-h/P9060059.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4bVyW86XIMr5oytQgO-AXpkyQr-pPcARUl7GjIOwVqQMAk9KsO1wuJboF1AIrwAPNGjqOwS11UYe4xXW8dtEeOyCiHsy98h8NNwhdKdhiKsMpLLH3-THKIsSzvCEkHTZ7V6uv6ptNwQ/s320/P9060059.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379499338185861906" border="0" /></a><br />John Gwaltney Persons, III (Tripp) was born September 4, 2009 at 7:49 am. He weighed 6 pounds 1 ounce (a little guy!) and was 19 inches long.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPBKRu1K7d-0DEomNaw6YJU26LXysKNNdnsX0sTkGCNnWwbs3jZMZ0hJQhm719GXm4t2TIcmkO1kyZvI4J-A3bRp3op78DQwoYnDMOsOTMGpFucOaJRL1OzFOQDt4HbwWx9BXOwfUfH0/s1600-h/P9070080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPBKRu1K7d-0DEomNaw6YJU26LXysKNNdnsX0sTkGCNnWwbs3jZMZ0hJQhm719GXm4t2TIcmkO1kyZvI4J-A3bRp3op78DQwoYnDMOsOTMGpFucOaJRL1OzFOQDt4HbwWx9BXOwfUfH0/s320/P9070080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379499348339551090" border="0" /></a><br />I cannot tell you how thrilling it was to hear "It's a boy!" I will never forget that moment and I am so glad we did know the gender until then. Since we knew Lauren and Catherine's gender, I can say I've experienced both knowing and not knowing the sex. While knowing makes the planning fun, there is something to be said for the anticipation of the moment of birth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiff-kJkZdKZyFmhRjw1k7PGJTjZjL72LLxNisquCGIzt6s48DPX_qLL8AOJleNLIaW_mwP3CJ3sdm9x2jmmuGZ6ZxstaU3ur9VV8oVXG5xQDmhOnQiTpyo-6BH294eQ2nHd1Jm5BDUWvI/s1600-h/P9040021.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiff-kJkZdKZyFmhRjw1k7PGJTjZjL72LLxNisquCGIzt6s48DPX_qLL8AOJleNLIaW_mwP3CJ3sdm9x2jmmuGZ6ZxstaU3ur9VV8oVXG5xQDmhOnQiTpyo-6BH294eQ2nHd1Jm5BDUWvI/s320/P9040021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379514495498202482" border="0" /></a>John and I totally expected another girl. He and I were surprised to hear it was a boy. Long ago we had decided to carry on John's family name but we had not talked at all about what we would call him. It took us a couple of days to decide between Trey and Tripp (nicknames for third generation boys.) Does he look proud? <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5awMWtr3FmbZKeANtBzjffd0Z5T3EglwJ8UNb7rHLAOSlMInqFVaAXsNBY7-SRLWWkxmaGYR380ZjSaPPoa_xSY-zJbK031hpoFTQYSwgfVtWRP1rWik77SdlGLS1pRkhKyVqdj9sB0/s1600-h/P9040026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5awMWtr3FmbZKeANtBzjffd0Z5T3EglwJ8UNb7rHLAOSlMInqFVaAXsNBY7-SRLWWkxmaGYR380ZjSaPPoa_xSY-zJbK031hpoFTQYSwgfVtWRP1rWik77SdlGLS1pRkhKyVqdj9sB0/s320/P9040026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379514505015512882" border="0" /></a><br />Because of the rampant spread of the H1N1 flu virus, the hospital has banned visitors under the age of 18. So, the girls did not get to meet Tripp until we were home. I missed seeing them, but luckily they are too young to really understand that they were missing out by not getting to visit us at the hospital. Here they are meeting their brother for the first time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU52a4zChEwsKmnrkCSHgOGJJSCSiN19ZJf_f-KiMfFUSJotpeaGzMRrDHAUH_1BrW2XCV2o871niid8RUphPznz78MPJJv0P15F3sIqYJX4RLl3H178dttJiGr7t1DEhOBQMm7eyWyFg/s1600-h/P9070087.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU52a4zChEwsKmnrkCSHgOGJJSCSiN19ZJf_f-KiMfFUSJotpeaGzMRrDHAUH_1BrW2XCV2o871niid8RUphPznz78MPJJv0P15F3sIqYJX4RLl3H178dttJiGr7t1DEhOBQMm7eyWyFg/s320/P9070087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379499355133998018" border="0" /></a><br />As you can see, Catherine was very concerned about his pacifier.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfER6rnAf36mrllz-xhQCSxHkdWmOmKfhIJkN6TG9t3WNQtn_H8x243e219iVzFj2lEKWm0iGGYbr6prbsj4tzKR5Tzrz-WyXJ_Q8H91ORFy4urj60-Y9mbTXb1_KlLqnR5zpW1gl4yE/s1600-h/P9070088.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMfER6rnAf36mrllz-xhQCSxHkdWmOmKfhIJkN6TG9t3WNQtn_H8x243e219iVzFj2lEKWm0iGGYbr6prbsj4tzKR5Tzrz-WyXJ_Q8H91ORFy4urj60-Y9mbTXb1_KlLqnR5zpW1gl4yE/s320/P9070088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379499361396966578" border="0" /></a>This cracks me up. Look at the expression on Tripp's face. He knows already to protect himself from his loving sister.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwI2hAR2XYN5sNUoVDozRsPehf63-yzqk0bYjd0U1aNAR3d-K40ndU8UyCUURAq5sTcEMyqs4uteGxAlPXayTY_OTxicTseh31WVIFj74wvaLt5s2UVi7tR45M_GdZF2rbrvfCzjOE__k/s1600-h/P9070099.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwI2hAR2XYN5sNUoVDozRsPehf63-yzqk0bYjd0U1aNAR3d-K40ndU8UyCUURAq5sTcEMyqs4uteGxAlPXayTY_OTxicTseh31WVIFj74wvaLt5s2UVi7tR45M_GdZF2rbrvfCzjOE__k/s320/P9070099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379501442959009762" border="0" /></a><br />They think he is a baby doll. We use a LOT of hand sanitizer and are working on teaching them the proper way to hold him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgef2KlmC6vQIcDK113hASwW7d7X32SVxLpjuT59s3tJQDthhomIiECcxpfV1CV1e50mFb9QOFYZnpsV3dFlBZsgHVQ9xLIKUy5yp-l7H60zvG41k58qlONGV8MEkygFiDTimfxROnFixI/s1600-h/P9070104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgef2KlmC6vQIcDK113hASwW7d7X32SVxLpjuT59s3tJQDthhomIiECcxpfV1CV1e50mFb9QOFYZnpsV3dFlBZsgHVQ9xLIKUy5yp-l7H60zvG41k58qlONGV8MEkygFiDTimfxROnFixI/s320/P9070104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379502203014089794" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJh24-wsOjgocjaAJVEEq7LgXQ9xih09XmYk66eax5hS7YqU7uVn9QYwQiD2TUClIyzm8bFea8ggj8_8IXZrismynMzy3CmReFRmFEss3Pb9K0xEXZOhDiia7cFd6wlDeAr4qYAWGhZ0/s1600-h/P9070094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJh24-wsOjgocjaAJVEEq7LgXQ9xih09XmYk66eax5hS7YqU7uVn9QYwQiD2TUClIyzm8bFea8ggj8_8IXZrismynMzy3CmReFRmFEss3Pb9K0xEXZOhDiia7cFd6wlDeAr4qYAWGhZ0/s320/P9070094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379501431317598482" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0GUs7G4PKLqYueL5uXPlv-d1cuFSplu-AvF8y1XXvOy9lNHWl3w7P219OZszNZnW2eBENGIN2zHXSzK0ra2l3JrjbNE0NDFVKcwOxntEXungu5WHxl-COsWSGy_G8cgsszQWJqd56oA/s1600-h/P9070108.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0GUs7G4PKLqYueL5uXPlv-d1cuFSplu-AvF8y1XXvOy9lNHWl3w7P219OZszNZnW2eBENGIN2zHXSzK0ra2l3JrjbNE0NDFVKcwOxntEXungu5WHxl-COsWSGy_G8cgsszQWJqd56oA/s320/P9070108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379502211323341922" border="0" /></a>Lauren and Catherine are proud sisters, are very excited and love, love, love their little brother. We are so blessed and thank our Heavenly Father for the healthy new addition to our family.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-36087393742874593462009-05-15T14:41:00.006-05:002009-06-02T17:22:14.915-05:00Summer=flip flops<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirmHsFH7JsVG0G0SgyC7gnLDPmIzQWGPYd_3i_WdqkIM5wxD-gCySCgA-6KllMwAdMYmJMDmQMrraQXBR0urZGMonv9mHXILxWCRoakgimG0FNnGfNMo65ZHc023PBnu6rIGsdDuaRzgI/s1600-h/IMG_6026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirmHsFH7JsVG0G0SgyC7gnLDPmIzQWGPYd_3i_WdqkIM5wxD-gCySCgA-6KllMwAdMYmJMDmQMrraQXBR0urZGMonv9mHXILxWCRoakgimG0FNnGfNMo65ZHc023PBnu6rIGsdDuaRzgI/s320/IMG_6026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336139588667271698" border="0" /></a>This cracks me up. Notice two things: Catherine puts her flops on the wrong foot, and she can't quite get the toe placement right. But hey, she gets them on herself and that is a start.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEKRpuvGMkAgjflnZAhqNVBSzQhdsEW7r7GRTLqzDvUOCg8IK6KRzpdmAh4EWJykoSVwy6XrIosi7FOepxZ_uifrjxM7ZJgdnlpHhuySHW_nLOsWsgPZFzNEn7NMyGCVMrRD4ews00OI/s1600-h/IMG_6028.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEKRpuvGMkAgjflnZAhqNVBSzQhdsEW7r7GRTLqzDvUOCg8IK6KRzpdmAh4EWJykoSVwy6XrIosi7FOepxZ_uifrjxM7ZJgdnlpHhuySHW_nLOsWsgPZFzNEn7NMyGCVMrRD4ews00OI/s320/IMG_6028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336139585972029650" border="0" /></a>Little Miss Priss, Lauren, is so proud to show off her newly painted toes. She is so worried the polish will come off in the pool or bath. We love our flip flops.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-72190668268811438092009-05-14T13:53:00.004-05:002009-05-14T14:40:52.991-05:00It's Officially Over.....my quest for my Masters in Education. I graduated as of last Saturday! I am so thankful to be DONE and back to my former life. I have missed my girls and missed having time to clean my house, go to the grocery store, get my hair cut, clean out closets, etc. Wait. I don't think I spent much time cleaning or organizing prior to my internship (but don't tell John!) I really have missed simple daily pleasures like blogging and taking my children to the park.<br /><br />So, what now? I guess I'll have this baby and go from there. A lot of people have asked if I plan to teach immediately and the answer is, not yet. I would like to do some tutoring on the side, so if anyone knows of anybody looking for a qualified tutor, please pass on my name!<br /><br />Here is some randomness for your day. John's birthday was a couple of weeks ago and he wanted chicken noodle soup and sandwiches for his birthday dinner. Seriously. That is all he wanted. I offered to cook him whatever he wanted or we could have gone out. But, he wanted soup and sandwiches. Oh, and he doesn't like sweets, so I really got off easy. I didn't bake him a cake or even a pie. But, the strawberries are delish right now, so I got stuff for strawberry shortcake. More for the girls and I than John! Anyway....I digress. We were eating our soup and sandwiches and this is what John found in his soup:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kKElWTaCuiNxIFXjt7WwKyc-1R5m3snUrsDIKYz7JfgSuhNAUkjbV5-nNqOVM_EGUXAPLI3sST56_E0RhqS6kXY9Ldb10ICqjeZ3J7GnIdF4noY3pjypWvsriDkooYPG-DAtT_gdloo/s1600-h/IMG_6031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kKElWTaCuiNxIFXjt7WwKyc-1R5m3snUrsDIKYz7JfgSuhNAUkjbV5-nNqOVM_EGUXAPLI3sST56_E0RhqS6kXY9Ldb10ICqjeZ3J7GnIdF4noY3pjypWvsriDkooYPG-DAtT_gdloo/s320/IMG_6031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335762087052746274" border="0" /></a>Yes, that is a bolt nestled within the noodles of his Campbell's Chicken Noodle soup. A rather large bolt. Here's what I want to know: how exacly did this bolt make its way to our can of soup? Was it an integral part of the machine from which it came? Did this particular bolt cause the entire factory to halt production? Or, are there any other machinery parts floating around in cans of Campbell's soup? Did anyone realize a large bolt was missing from one of the machines at the Campbell's soup cannery? Just some random questions I have.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-71177215278897925302008-12-29T16:40:00.005-06:002008-12-29T17:19:03.100-06:00Our Little BallerinaA few weeks ago Lauren's ballet school had a Christmas demonstration. The instructors are so sweet and patient with the young children. I was amazed at how much they had learned since they started in September. She's the one on the far right.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98DoE8ax4-uMeMpk2R8zt8wtUOpXhlDF2Hya3KwjXFl66-zEPvUzzRiInLoMZJyGVwsqUdgFvgjZL9bEZw6pOgHAHqR4HebLL6WYh0mNLxC3kuttS_BpEExxy44UtYxHOXW3DKZFNwjo/s1600-h/IMG_5454.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98DoE8ax4-uMeMpk2R8zt8wtUOpXhlDF2Hya3KwjXFl66-zEPvUzzRiInLoMZJyGVwsqUdgFvgjZL9bEZw6pOgHAHqR4HebLL6WYh0mNLxC3kuttS_BpEExxy44UtYxHOXW3DKZFNwjo/s320/IMG_5454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285348206368110722" border="0" /></a><br />What was so amazing to me what this: each week I ask Lauren what see did in ballet that day. Usually, she says "we danced." I'll ask her to show me and she may put her hands above her head and twirl around, or do the little number below, but that's about all I get.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTLf-t-xt8fjHSWLrwBLDgoE0MsrkDG8BcV7JMjgy9COAcSM9z-ug1xwnzUlmesjLas3jBlAnbx2TWoj0eOV-TpW1BRmFghVUkDaVK8bmIrb2mZjySnsWA6GdvzUPB9lHkjYNQKl20ow/s1600-h/IMG_5456.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWTLf-t-xt8fjHSWLrwBLDgoE0MsrkDG8BcV7JMjgy9COAcSM9z-ug1xwnzUlmesjLas3jBlAnbx2TWoj0eOV-TpW1BRmFghVUkDaVK8bmIrb2mZjySnsWA6GdvzUPB9lHkjYNQKl20ow/s320/IMG_5456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285353977106969762" border="0" /></a><br />I'm not sure if she was ahead of or behind the rest of the class in the sequence of their dance in that picture.<br /><br />Now, the lighting was bad for pictures since we were asked to abstain from flash photography. So most of our pictures were blurry. I mean, we wouldn't want to break anyone's concentration or worse, interfere with our little professional performance<span style="text-decoration: underline;">.<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRirtRgTEkyoMyG6aDq2KCun0r1TqEhKu0sIDDhjLLL5ZU_JOf7EsA4X0_blrApQd6rMerfWojCnOcxAi2lf_Q2_cT9uYf0gAGvgWsSft45AzFWUfeUrdxt4oIrS5A4pa5TWM2ffz2wQ/s1600-h/IMG_5455.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRirtRgTEkyoMyG6aDq2KCun0r1TqEhKu0sIDDhjLLL5ZU_JOf7EsA4X0_blrApQd6rMerfWojCnOcxAi2lf_Q2_cT9uYf0gAGvgWsSft45AzFWUfeUrdxt4oIrS5A4pa5TWM2ffz2wQ/s320/IMG_5455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285351782639705954" border="0" /></a>For the most part, they all held it pretty much together, as much as you would expect from any four year old. And, they were all precious. Each class danced to a song from The Nutcracker. Lauren's class was Marzipan, some were Gingerbread, others were the wind-up dolls. That class was especially cute. (Shout out to you, Susie!)<br /><br />It was tons of fun to see all of our other little friends that are in the various classes. As you can see, Lauren and Ella Grace were really excited to see each other.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvW_iGRFbD2MwSXMNw1z9lisMGdyTTLozNP4PRaDxfQ61U_N1v8wLlhpq-G7cRRunpicMuv1P-24MXk6nDGU8MUdsrBeuhLwUj4CKEMeCxTB7pyBgQHym3W8fzrnIihq1Oj6QeIqnOv6k/s1600-h/IMG_5466.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvW_iGRFbD2MwSXMNw1z9lisMGdyTTLozNP4PRaDxfQ61U_N1v8wLlhpq-G7cRRunpicMuv1P-24MXk6nDGU8MUdsrBeuhLwUj4CKEMeCxTB7pyBgQHym3W8fzrnIihq1Oj6QeIqnOv6k/s320/IMG_5466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285348224964271906" border="0" /></a>I mean really, really excited. Man, those girls LOVE each other. Aren't they sweet and cute?!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGXNOzWKzZS5QQd74_IAeB4Ak2-N49VdMzubAUOFO0WgrjU5yglaYxJCex1MKpelqdWnB26jlG934GTK2YIAbP0t4_syL0RZWGhZj2vVJlYavIiEUOiEI9H-CYTERurqSnpAlsm1rsBD0/s1600-h/IMG_5469.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGXNOzWKzZS5QQd74_IAeB4Ak2-N49VdMzubAUOFO0WgrjU5yglaYxJCex1MKpelqdWnB26jlG934GTK2YIAbP0t4_syL0RZWGhZj2vVJlYavIiEUOiEI9H-CYTERurqSnpAlsm1rsBD0/s320/IMG_5469.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285348230383750610" border="0" /></a>Lauren's daddy and I were super proud of our little ballerina. And, of all of our friend's little girls. If they all performed this well for the Christmas demonstration, I can't wait to see what they'll do for the real-deal, full-out recital in May!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_L4hvIrvv039LUNMAvxbecGO7JMIl1prni8pQQKoxo0WwIhxYLY0nVCz1s9IEVmrmy-CON0tmUnSa_XAmPEUn57V15Rsqe2UjF3F2PMLkjtpIr4ldq0mmPWvxK8kL3FRbftIElGFl-Lc/s1600-h/IMG_5473.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_L4hvIrvv039LUNMAvxbecGO7JMIl1prni8pQQKoxo0WwIhxYLY0nVCz1s9IEVmrmy-CON0tmUnSa_XAmPEUn57V15Rsqe2UjF3F2PMLkjtpIr4ldq0mmPWvxK8kL3FRbftIElGFl-Lc/s320/IMG_5473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285348216935215506" border="0" /></a>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-46885471577034336172008-11-26T16:46:00.002-06:002008-11-26T16:48:15.917-06:00Couldn't Help MyselfI just had to post this picture:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BteclN0Wp0G4QJnzcasay29TOtynITpD0_QwImMNhNTP5t-psbTgdHjonu85jyb-3uY8ItYvWJMCEzhsW5MS9mFuBkxSGA9BO3jc1MLtii9g4hGH8SAhKlqF7wt8uohCu7LkHT5HBT0/s1600-h/IMG_5411.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BteclN0Wp0G4QJnzcasay29TOtynITpD0_QwImMNhNTP5t-psbTgdHjonu85jyb-3uY8ItYvWJMCEzhsW5MS9mFuBkxSGA9BO3jc1MLtii9g4hGH8SAhKlqF7wt8uohCu7LkHT5HBT0/s320/IMG_5411.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273101564307324642" border="0" /></a>As you can see, we have a couple of princesses in our household!Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-21445783130561940032008-11-11T14:58:00.004-06:002008-11-11T15:28:38.629-06:00Little Bo Peep and her sheep<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIe5HUVJW9LJcx-os8mvP1fSbhmH2JdrxaBdQlTLPFBVZnLKtxV0atNzd5A8_U7B3bTzoS_g9idLoEM-nEPCkhK-b84AfjazluxSC5Ph-bc4fpygVsQceaECUSmSpej8cJI6Hbsm6Rek/s1600-h/IMG_5396.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIe5HUVJW9LJcx-os8mvP1fSbhmH2JdrxaBdQlTLPFBVZnLKtxV0atNzd5A8_U7B3bTzoS_g9idLoEM-nEPCkhK-b84AfjazluxSC5Ph-bc4fpygVsQceaECUSmSpej8cJI6Hbsm6Rek/s320/IMG_5396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267508626704373970" border="0" /></a>BAAAA!!! Catherine was in character the whole night and even kept the headpiece I made on her head most of the evening! Yes, you read correctly. Believe it or not, I am quite crafty at times. I made most of her costume using an old rabbit suit from a former Halloween costume. Just sewed some felt on the ends for hooves, hot glued some white pom-poms for sheep fleece, and made her headband with more pom-poms, some wire, and felt! Like Big Mama put it, I'm like a ghetto Martha Stewart. You can do anything with a glue gun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35z1RE_001KicRrxu56_-QgUJcsoB6P8TWypvdCZXZcNav7PzFwTub2BZ8vXLdgjoR-HDHnooiDcR4M8kldJGhrRNChgIZPR7wLKefOkf-nMb6115digkjhN9fN07phRagkIYEDYiD3Y/s1600-h/IMG_5389.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35z1RE_001KicRrxu56_-QgUJcsoB6P8TWypvdCZXZcNav7PzFwTub2BZ8vXLdgjoR-HDHnooiDcR4M8kldJGhrRNChgIZPR7wLKefOkf-nMb6115digkjhN9fN07phRagkIYEDYiD3Y/s320/IMG_5389.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267508621202215522" border="0" /></a><br />I was really worried that Lauren would figure out how to use her staff to grab Catherine by the neck or start whacking people with it. Luckily, she just figured it was a useless accessory and carried it around with no incident.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibxKtfBlSQNltxSbTuEXIZjt-bjbaPKnL1Z9ZybSgolbmY5449aVkz7lIzN4q-rEwpFK_D2c4b027eL8E6xwusG5Pd2x30iSJhfJFmvHt-imBt53D12bHQvG0ZwCFa9Ltfq4o-2Z7An7k/s1600-h/IMG_5403.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibxKtfBlSQNltxSbTuEXIZjt-bjbaPKnL1Z9ZybSgolbmY5449aVkz7lIzN4q-rEwpFK_D2c4b027eL8E6xwusG5Pd2x30iSJhfJFmvHt-imBt53D12bHQvG0ZwCFa9Ltfq4o-2Z7An7k/s320/IMG_5403.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267508643205398642" border="0" /></a>Trick or treating gets better each year as the girls get older. It is a good thing they don't quite understand that they could go to every house in the neighborhood if they wanted. So, we just went to a few on our street with some good friends that live just a few houses down. As you can see, Catherine started in on her candy immediately. Knox is the cute little monkey you see, Stewart, our policeman (he did a great job patrolling the street and keeping the kiddos in line.) And, Caroline, our spunky diva. Trust me, her costume was fab, she just got a little chilly so needed her coat.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCnRvDN1IwwN2C5DakJxBYIRpCPtuIswUpCZLA229uRICth9gZtJowcBmOY22cA_6BppgRk-gUHGUcF71OgRezapXK4q14b_oPswVLsk0PNQ977s5Ew2eepDZcFlMSWc6SyAB5Nmo0mI/s1600-h/IMG_5400.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLCnRvDN1IwwN2C5DakJxBYIRpCPtuIswUpCZLA229uRICth9gZtJowcBmOY22cA_6BppgRk-gUHGUcF71OgRezapXK4q14b_oPswVLsk0PNQ977s5Ew2eepDZcFlMSWc6SyAB5Nmo0mI/s320/IMG_5400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267513138469785858" border="0" /></a>Caroline and Catherine inspect their loot. Catherine wanted to eat each piece of candy she received right after it dropped in her bucket. "Save it for later" was completely lost and useless on her.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavkf2OrDpx2Sjq8kEBm149DUM_srfUpqBzrZO1RsYuQnW4QCXW-rCTs7L5FYn7X2t7Kwwul0b38bkPj8hs4_szxy9peWMnazYBRbLZG0_vqT9GQIIXiatMjICbHSOmmrAFwhyro54F8k/s1600-h/IMG_5406.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhavkf2OrDpx2Sjq8kEBm149DUM_srfUpqBzrZO1RsYuQnW4QCXW-rCTs7L5FYn7X2t7Kwwul0b38bkPj8hs4_szxy9peWMnazYBRbLZG0_vqT9GQIIXiatMjICbHSOmmrAFwhyro54F8k/s320/IMG_5406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267508649052338642" border="0" /></a>"Can we please stop posing for photos, and go get some more candy already?!"<br /><br />Isn't dressing our children up so much fun?! I guess this is probably the last year I will dictate what they will wear for Halloween.<br /><br />Now it's time to think about Thanksgiving and Christmas. Is anyone else freaking out a little that we're this close to Christmas?! I need to get out and get some shopping done, pronto!Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-81527158150508916582008-10-22T16:03:00.006-05:002008-10-23T18:44:47.128-05:00Zoo GirlsThe girls and I went to the Montgomery zoo with some precious friends on Monday. The city schools had a day off so that means our pre-schools were out as well. It was a beautiful day and we had so much fun with Susie, Isabel and Chaney.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOHuZbV-qQBS2fDOZykQrbsSfGHTUcLveXDUxaN1EmT9lJ_NXiUXK8JptDN5jbcr6mfaREmdyWgX5yctFpcLxuDLyuLtbzpegAKrkhayMtejX4FcVmvXySde3t0MLafL8olNo9PjNDIyg/s1600-h/PA190093.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOHuZbV-qQBS2fDOZykQrbsSfGHTUcLveXDUxaN1EmT9lJ_NXiUXK8JptDN5jbcr6mfaREmdyWgX5yctFpcLxuDLyuLtbzpegAKrkhayMtejX4FcVmvXySde3t0MLafL8olNo9PjNDIyg/s320/PA190093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090282777669570" border="0" /></a><br />This was an exhibit that was part of some weird Halloween scenes the zoo had set up for their annual "ZooBoo." I'm not sure what flowers or fake worm-snake-looking things have to do with Halloween, but the girls had fun playing in the exhibit. It reminded me of the sort of strange scene one would see in <span style="font-style: italic;">Alice in Wonderland</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">Wicked</span>. (Am I supposed to italacize or put those titles in quotes? Teacher friends, that question is for you.)<br /><br />If you think that looks weird you should have seen the scene they had set up with Cinderella, Snow White, and a transvestite knight! Or transvesknight, as Susie coined it (pretty clever, huh?) One of the little ones pulled the wigs off of the scary princesses. I tried to fix it, and we quickly moved on.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLj6FPLEGrzHULKwd9pWy6lyWN82ex05vixDcHOFVkUAYgxAPZBx8H089JqrCbHERLNu2JK0yUryPG1fGyZlY701vslPoR2npYnPshXRpX3iN_9gsRRrc1YAgTNpGD9y-y-gYm-xGCTA0/s1600-h/PA190094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLj6FPLEGrzHULKwd9pWy6lyWN82ex05vixDcHOFVkUAYgxAPZBx8H089JqrCbHERLNu2JK0yUryPG1fGyZlY701vslPoR2npYnPshXRpX3iN_9gsRRrc1YAgTNpGD9y-y-gYm-xGCTA0/s320/PA190094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090289401279970" border="0" /></a><br />Here they all are at the maned wolf exhibit or maybe one of those fox things. All I remember is it was really musky and stinky and the large, fox looking thing was asleep. As you can (sort of) see, the girls were more interested in the turtles swimming in the moat.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQG1LK6D_h1Rs4wwyTIkqO9VjBlaGAgBDn-Lsev7yljUy_GLrwO2e5fCgXtVNzA-xqpTz6r7kwgHNcLfS1C0ILI5fcgmHVnuroJbqezi7ItyUWLLrClDP468S6oYbZ6QKcpUNfIrBqoKs/s1600-h/PA200098.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQG1LK6D_h1Rs4wwyTIkqO9VjBlaGAgBDn-Lsev7yljUy_GLrwO2e5fCgXtVNzA-xqpTz6r7kwgHNcLfS1C0ILI5fcgmHVnuroJbqezi7ItyUWLLrClDP468S6oYbZ6QKcpUNfIrBqoKs/s320/PA200098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090298928622098" border="0" /></a>Isabel pointing out the giraffe to everyone.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr4GEjCKq-3ihKMzPUa5f4lrON7ezFyu_Fni4TsZQrl9rJ6EIheq2HzLUkrzmIj2CvZy_8lEPj2crsjhZGcDYRBqJ0bz0E-qUichY5zcilEUPTo5qPba9xOdOEnnOht1mS2mcRv4uNdY/s1600-h/PA200101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr4GEjCKq-3ihKMzPUa5f4lrON7ezFyu_Fni4TsZQrl9rJ6EIheq2HzLUkrzmIj2CvZy_8lEPj2crsjhZGcDYRBqJ0bz0E-qUichY5zcilEUPTo5qPba9xOdOEnnOht1mS2mcRv4uNdY/s320/PA200101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260496553318655010" border="0" /></a>If you look real close, it looks like the giraffe is licking Isabel's head in this one.<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpHuzKw_cIWpud0cGAoU7K7VkIkF1Xa040C-ZiCgfOZIXtHTaCadK9xxn69ti1g57JM1vPkXbnVNEOq9d0C6jVJiTxFoKqAj6iz7ZVNEYcr0hRZ6989iKaeJ91-MKA-ba9DVcWtlUvwE/s1600-h/PA200102.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpHuzKw_cIWpud0cGAoU7K7VkIkF1Xa040C-ZiCgfOZIXtHTaCadK9xxn69ti1g57JM1vPkXbnVNEOq9d0C6jVJiTxFoKqAj6iz7ZVNEYcr0hRZ6989iKaeJ91-MKA-ba9DVcWtlUvwE/s320/PA200102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090320372633938" border="0" /></a><br />The train ride is always one of the highlights. We ran into some more Auburn friends and got to share our train ride with them. Again, more weird and some freaky, scary scenes were set up along the train route. Luckily, the kiddos are probably still a little young to even know to be scared. Even more strange, the zoo had put trash bags over the heads of some of the mummies, monsters, etc. I'm more traumatized by those images than what we would have seen otherwise. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_d-zswGwfdwBdNuepuSzVbi8XFlflAULLbOZYqZBzn64FMnt1lBYJI0TNmaH2q3qNRl-jsfSqyKQTKhTItYoj-Iqj6Zano_nF8UVqLxJ9IRcrJqnfkGxDP774K2M808XP-Dx1ggdwWhU/s1600-h/PA200106.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_d-zswGwfdwBdNuepuSzVbi8XFlflAULLbOZYqZBzn64FMnt1lBYJI0TNmaH2q3qNRl-jsfSqyKQTKhTItYoj-Iqj6Zano_nF8UVqLxJ9IRcrJqnfkGxDP774K2M808XP-Dx1ggdwWhU/s320/PA200106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090309933825730" border="0" /></a>This was the best photo I could get on the train. Aren't they cute?! <br /><br />The train ride was at the end of our trip, so nobody was especially cooperative with my photo attempts. We had a great time, but missed you and your boys, Nonet!!Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-44695895572633770142008-10-15T21:15:00.003-05:002008-10-15T21:20:51.284-05:00New Trick<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3r-x9CxuPwqNLawzlgnRGjE1ZRaHAoJLemfyoXTP_AORgTI7QVd5Pxa0kBBMC2WLx7U3Q1woJewNlSocWaAM0HC4b4kXiwz-eT2W6_rTkEPb35Mw3ZoOazqkbtPb_wx7TxueWNYLNnuk/s1600-h/PA150197.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3r-x9CxuPwqNLawzlgnRGjE1ZRaHAoJLemfyoXTP_AORgTI7QVd5Pxa0kBBMC2WLx7U3Q1woJewNlSocWaAM0HC4b4kXiwz-eT2W6_rTkEPb35Mw3ZoOazqkbtPb_wx7TxueWNYLNnuk/s320/PA150197.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257570284254890226" /></a><br />Look what the sitter taught Lauren to do today. John is so proud. I just hope she doesn't do that at pre-school the next time they serve oranges for snack. (Please ignore the mess in my kitchen, I promise I cleaned it before I blogged!)Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-7109481586463782532008-10-09T15:52:00.000-05:002008-10-09T15:22:57.523-05:00The Noise<div><br /><div>It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and I was so enjoying my computer time with no guilt. You know what I mean. It's Sunday so I am not supposed to be doing anything but worshiping God and enjoying a day of rest.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I HAD to wash my sheets today. I never do laundry on a Sunday. Never, ever. In fact, I try to do as little as possible in the way of housework on this day. Because that is what God calls us to do. Enjoy Him and take a break!<br /><br />Okay, so I'm doing laundry because a certain little three year old is scared of storms. And, a certain daddy loves for his eldest (and less squirmy) daughter to cuddle and sleep with us in our bed every once in a while. Okay, so I kind of like it too. It takes me back her infancy.<br /><br />Anyway......she was so exhausted and had stayed up so late the night before that she tinkled in her sleep!! In my bed! I was horrified. Mainly, because it meant I had to wash our sheets today, on <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">my</span> day of rest! <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Note to self: go buy that extra set of sheets tomorrow.</span><br /><br />So, back to my main point. Lauren and John had left to take a field trip to Lowe's or something. Catherine, a.k.a The Squirmy One, was napping. And, I was supposed to be enjoying my guilt free computer time. But, something kept thumping in the dryer. I ignored it for a while. But, it was really loud. Even the new songs I downloaded earlier couldn't drown it out.<br /><br />I kept thinking, what in the world could that be? It sounds like a shoe. But, why on earth would there be a SHOE in my dryer. I'm not washing shoes. I'm washing sheets and a few things that were already in the washing machine. So, what is that noise?!!<br /><br />I debated for a long time on whether or not it was worth it to get out of my big, comfy chair. My curiousity got the best of me and I dragged my lazy self into the laundry room. It took me several minutes of searching, but I was determined. I mean, I <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">did</span> get out of my big, comfy chair to find the source of the quite disturbing noise.<br /><br />No shoe. Of course it wasn't a shoe. I wasn't washing shoes. But, I had thought, in the back of my mind, maybe The Squirmy One had thrown one in there when I wasn't looking. Entirely possible scenario in any household with toddlers, right?<br /><br />This was the source of the continual, loud, disruptive pounding in my dryer.<br /></div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255250416092126514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7ZOzwK2rqjl8vi-S5MWofEgBccCxSsl-KEVBRDSgvzMtS22rK3f66NeqDeSXyE3AxWe_A77XPQCencYXDBr_RPxVx0C7C9VFXASI5gkIyvzNn1lvhv33jz33MngYCw2vKOF9kMBrdEg/s320/PA090192.JPG" border="0" /><br />Can you believe it? That is one serious pocket knife, people. Big, sharp, and in some cases extremely loud. Oh, and now it is very clean. Bonus for John. </div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-27016593929217058712008-09-26T15:16:00.004-05:002008-09-26T15:30:43.560-05:00Why isn't Lisa Posting?If you are wondering the answer to the above question keep reading. <br /><br />So, I have not been blogging. I have been reading blogs but not posting. But, it is not because I don't want to or don't have anything to say. It is because I am so frustrated with the look of my blog and the fact that I accidently deleted all my friends links. I used those links, a lot!<br /><br />About two or three weeks ago I decided that I wanted a cuter look and feel to my blog. Especially after seeing my friend, Tiffany's blog. It is adorable. And, it gave me blog envy. <br /><br />Sooooo.....I started searching for free blog templates. Not an easy task. I think I spent, I mean, wasted at least an hour (and that's a conservative estimate) searching for something cute and appropriate. <br /><br />Have you guys seen some of the templates out there?! Oh, my. If you are into roses, race cars, or Nicole Kidman, you are in luck. I am dead serious. There is a blog template with a cartoon version of Nicole Kidman!! <br /><br />I thought I finally found one I liked. I downloaded it, copied the code, pasted, etc., etc. I hated it. And, the worst part was that all my links were gone!! Ahhh!!! I was so fed up that I gave up and haven't been back to my blog until now. <br /><br />I guess I'm going to do what smart Tiffany did and get professional help. Not mental help although I do need that some days, but, help with my blog. I know I can do it myself, I like to think I'm fairly computer savvy. Thing is, I don't have the patience or time to mess with it. <br /><br />If any of you dear friends have any advice, please share it. Oh, and if you have a second, please resend me (in an email or comment) the name of your blog so I can fix all my friend linkies.<br /><br />Happy Friday and WAR EAGLE!Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-5180062442953497092008-09-11T15:10:00.002-05:002008-10-14T07:23:59.620-05:00Same Persons, Different Day<p><a href="http://www.pyzam.com/toys"><img src="http://www.pyzamstuff.com/family_images/b/b4/2d60e23aee0950cb783e93e6f0d990.png" alt="Pyzam Family Sticker Toy" border="0" /><br />Create your own family sticker graphic at pYzam.com</a></p><img style="visibility: hidden; width: 500px; height: 200px;" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyMTE2MzQ4NTA5MyZwdD*xMjIxMTYzNzk2MzkwJnA9MzkwMSZkPWZsYXNodG95cyZuPWJsb2dnZXImZz*xJnQ9Jm89NWU*NjNmNTBiNjI1NDUyMGE4NzM2YWE1MzE3ZmQwZTE=.gif" border="0" height="0" width="0" />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-87610718906400951112008-08-24T16:45:00.010-05:002008-08-25T16:22:46.399-05:00Meet the Chickens......and the ducks, and the turkey. Yes, we have several chickens, three ducks, and a turkey. And, Marley, of course. But, most of you have met our dog, Marley. You may or may not know we have farm animals.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />In short, the Easter Bunny delivered ten baby chicks and three baby ducks to Lauren and Catherine this past Easter.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90_hThPme8YB04mxrDJshLOX7nRZ2I3nZvy32pAGaZoYCgYOf-k9PJ8vv32-O9J-R8osc294-I9sQh4J6TfwIgMWoEHcx8-7Q3mmdGdzZ64XWvfuoSnZFb39Q0wLaXbGcqNBmsyTYQHU/s1600-h/IMG_4100.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90_hThPme8YB04mxrDJshLOX7nRZ2I3nZvy32pAGaZoYCgYOf-k9PJ8vv32-O9J-R8osc294-I9sQh4J6TfwIgMWoEHcx8-7Q3mmdGdzZ64XWvfuoSnZFb39Q0wLaXbGcqNBmsyTYQHU/s320/IMG_4100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238209682970799762" border="0" /></a><br />The girls were delighted, John was thrilled, I was apprehensive to say the least.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENSK8RE9mqk8tSLCtv5qWoYod6ilYfI-_GCl2aifb8Pax1-EooZVIS5Fh3MHJggj1fIpe0HHgQDCKQ1r17Txp_XPAqdljqrEimz6wHtEnx_woRALP-NaFE1qGGki8rwjf1xWD8PzS2eI/s1600-h/IMG_4084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENSK8RE9mqk8tSLCtv5qWoYod6ilYfI-_GCl2aifb8Pax1-EooZVIS5Fh3MHJggj1fIpe0HHgQDCKQ1r17Txp_XPAqdljqrEimz6wHtEnx_woRALP-NaFE1qGGki8rwjf1xWD8PzS2eI/s320/IMG_4084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238210828145772018" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Over the course of the spring and summer months our chickens and the turkey encountered several unfortunate and sometimes terminal accidents.<br /><br />For example, once we moved the chickens and ducks to the farm, the chickens started disappearing from the pen. Oh, did I mention they lived in my garage for several weeks? There are not many wives that would allow their husbands to commandeer their garage for the sake of farm animals. But, that's how I roll.<br /><br />So, once they moved the chickens started diminishing in number. Daily, and one by one they would vanish. We were down to one chicken. For some reason, the ducks remained unscathed. The pen did not have a cover so John and I speculated that a hawk or owl was enjoying a free chicken buffet.<br /><br />Luckily, Lauren really did not notice before John had time to get replacement chicks. And, each time he would come home with new chicks she had a new baby (or five) to play with. Lauren had a ball carrying them around the house, wrapping them in blankets, and having tea parties with her birds. And she named a few. The turkey she called Big Foot and two of the chickens became Super Man and Cinderella.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNApRhfSUxu13QvDDja-qkvunkvmxh2xQ9X7g_S5IYhlYzIQtXvCrg3OI0mJOE-GDjWxIhi3i6fXiBqVjsYSQfDo7odyuahFjGBBdqquE_blXyGx9eavkeXe7DKORtWa898qT5FywzIA/s1600-h/IMG_5122.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNApRhfSUxu13QvDDja-qkvunkvmxh2xQ9X7g_S5IYhlYzIQtXvCrg3OI0mJOE-GDjWxIhi3i6fXiBqVjsYSQfDo7odyuahFjGBBdqquE_blXyGx9eavkeXe7DKORtWa898qT5FywzIA/s320/IMG_5122.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238564610907274242" border="0" /></a>Super Man and Cinderella are the ones strutting on the far left of this photo.<br /><br />Lauren loved on Big Foot, the turkey, so much she inadvertently broke his leg. Luckily, one of the kind elders at our church is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">veterinarian</span> professor and just happens to be my former youth minister. So, I called Dan and asked him what to do. The thought of putting the turkey of his misery was too much to bear.<br /><br />I put John on the phone with Dan and they had a 15 minute conversation on how to splint a baby turkey's leg. Seriously. And, then John made <span style="font-style: italic;">me </span>help him splint Big Foot's little leg. John used so much medical tape to secure Broke Foot's leg to his body, he looked like he was in a partial body cast. Poor Broke Foot, I mean Big Foot.<br /><br />Unfortunately, Broke Foot did not survive once he moved from the garage to the farm. His broken leg proved to be a far disadvantage when trying to escape the creature that grabbed him in the night. We are not sure how he met his ultimate demise. There was evidence of a struggle and many turkey feathers were strewn in and below his pen.<br /><br />Once again, John was able to replace Broke Foot without Lauren's notice. See how happy she and the "new" Big Foot are together? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKBZn2upNNwqgI_xkWwoW-VAEj_E8f4iZOgipB01J5c-erJXkpyLKSQM_mWGq9crpts2sBTEFHYWNE09O8vISm9_uj-LvLej7qFeKPQvSEovghsvIg83XeKz-mnvb4MsEy_0ZrORHqrQ/s1600-h/IMG_5093.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKBZn2upNNwqgI_xkWwoW-VAEj_E8f4iZOgipB01J5c-erJXkpyLKSQM_mWGq9crpts2sBTEFHYWNE09O8vISm9_uj-LvLej7qFeKPQvSEovghsvIg83XeKz-mnvb4MsEy_0ZrORHqrQ/s320/IMG_5093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238567007783655618" border="0" /></a><br />Even Catherine likes to get in on the turkey action!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXmYw8nOGNRSOoWmyR20FJOShqByRDlSmCv9yKI7BIGjr5On_3xjQKgyWdo1yl0wb9B1WeOCK8z73cbR-M7zZxRUJv2dnlyNwjKxWiwjPJ0t-F4Bn3kyDCDlfcnYAJbuFoQe53SPpMg4/s1600-h/IMG_5097.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXmYw8nOGNRSOoWmyR20FJOShqByRDlSmCv9yKI7BIGjr5On_3xjQKgyWdo1yl0wb9B1WeOCK8z73cbR-M7zZxRUJv2dnlyNwjKxWiwjPJ0t-F4Bn3kyDCDlfcnYAJbuFoQe53SPpMg4/s320/IMG_5097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238567802175369938" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-78540608946538093662008-08-21T21:11:00.005-05:002008-08-24T16:44:00.541-05:00It's the Little Things in Life #1I don't know if my husband would agree with me on this statement, but I truly gain pleasure from the smallest things. Things that some may call trivial can bring me great joy.<br /><br />For example, it struck me this evening as I was loading the dishwasher that I <span style="font-style: italic;">LOVE</span> it when I completely maximize every single inch of space available in my dishwasher. I mean, you couldn't shove even one more knife in that thing and it get cleaned effectively. It really makes me happy.<br /><br />Isn't it fun when we can derive pleasure from the most everyday, boring tasks?Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-544445752613383642008-08-12T18:36:00.003-05:002008-08-24T16:45:00.519-05:00My Daughter, the Nail BiterHelp!!<br /><br />Lauren has started biting her nails. Many of you know, I have struggled with the same habit all my life. I really do not want her to battle the same habit the rest of <span style="font-style: italic;">her</span> life.<br /><br />As we all know, ladies' hands look best clean, neat and manicured.<br /><br />Do as I say, not as I do. Right?!<br /><br />P.S. Any advice on how to nip-this-in-the-bud is more than welcome.Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-63961070645573453442008-08-08T14:20:00.009-05:002008-08-08T15:25:12.046-05:00Lauren's Little FriendSo, John was out cutting trees or doing something else manly and outdoorsy yesterday afternoon. And, he comes home with a new pet for Lauren. Which wouldn't be a problem if it were something small, cute and furry. But, it wasn't. This little guy is her new best friend. He's small, but a far cry from cute and furry.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRC1w3IFJnEapOY9c7cbAlmZE_PX9wPZgsnOGkkIKTaLHkZQkdoNysv-zdZdnv8ZkFgpv93vBY4NdeLXOttXNyMB3Ifl5xt1ciAgTIiVfs-AJ3ms0txi0ujKFzGAzDlsqDC_F3-yhRjY/s1600-h/IMG_5036.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 513px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRC1w3IFJnEapOY9c7cbAlmZE_PX9wPZgsnOGkkIKTaLHkZQkdoNysv-zdZdnv8ZkFgpv93vBY4NdeLXOttXNyMB3Ifl5xt1ciAgTIiVfs-AJ3ms0txi0ujKFzGAzDlsqDC_F3-yhRjY/s320/IMG_5036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232231985924440626" border="0" /></a><br />What is that on her head? I asked the same question. It is some sort of lizard. I think it looks like a miniature Komodo dragon. She named it Rusty. And, then she did this:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid67je_yfSqdwwasPD05JmkQodI_1fC62_HgUN8seAOXutWWvWjqnoTZKKmlMUOKMfcbCRsS7zUiUVbLWk4tZGJxDucFiD9PEG412LBIGZ_P4lTMQ9KBtS4kRAfwASanuxH5GFbTgxd4I/s1600-h/IMG_5031.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid67je_yfSqdwwasPD05JmkQodI_1fC62_HgUN8seAOXutWWvWjqnoTZKKmlMUOKMfcbCRsS7zUiUVbLWk4tZGJxDucFiD9PEG412LBIGZ_P4lTMQ9KBtS4kRAfwASanuxH5GFbTgxd4I/s320/IMG_5031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232233276138055154" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And, then this:<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgUAHm8SYBH1M9Tfwa6A_ccdwGYuxcjNag1kfd_PB0tUk-OLWGjHYywElMGIlyNd8JkHx_28I40IXZR1WfKIpct6MecBtmJZYtT0NT2Sh6kZ0JotjKf-lD4tV3s_Tpufqu5eFk8-mdbw/s1600-h/IMG_5042.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgUAHm8SYBH1M9Tfwa6A_ccdwGYuxcjNag1kfd_PB0tUk-OLWGjHYywElMGIlyNd8JkHx_28I40IXZR1WfKIpct6MecBtmJZYtT0NT2Sh6kZ0JotjKf-lD4tV3s_Tpufqu5eFk8-mdbw/s320/IMG_5042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232234385326647890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQd6IW1VA78zjvX6hE9vnzOJqxltu6oXux9vm7DbRjsVpUL7Mzcb_pe8kWiAP3P2WehyphenhyphenDP_Z_n_41xmn8j00eZm7NCkVB-j7FE3rMLa3sYS5xJugWPGRB1iSZnsKqckoCqAVL-2eTxxM/s1600-h/IMG_5043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQd6IW1VA78zjvX6hE9vnzOJqxltu6oXux9vm7DbRjsVpUL7Mzcb_pe8kWiAP3P2WehyphenhyphenDP_Z_n_41xmn8j00eZm7NCkVB-j7FE3rMLa3sYS5xJugWPGRB1iSZnsKqckoCqAVL-2eTxxM/s320/IMG_5043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232235310490197058" border="0" /></a>No, she didn't bite Rusty's head off. But, she did kiss him. Several times. And, take him for a ride in the baby doll stroller.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYA3rIshWC_yLPjMYHgPLBVXIKv_EnYsu_NJ11HI4tyRuCeWtZG0sVb8qS7Ounj4V1kYZgeU0Jv16fUxOgEXn7siCWb9EmW1nhg0mj5bdFm4nr7gNYBMLoBqqIMXHfvs9LZRn8bH8AhE8/s1600-h/IMG_5046.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYA3rIshWC_yLPjMYHgPLBVXIKv_EnYsu_NJ11HI4tyRuCeWtZG0sVb8qS7Ounj4V1kYZgeU0Jv16fUxOgEXn7siCWb9EmW1nhg0mj5bdFm4nr7gNYBMLoBqqIMXHfvs9LZRn8bH8AhE8/s320/IMG_5046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232235888810211890" border="0" /></a>Rusty had the time of his life. Actually, I think he was in a state of shock. Notice Catherine's diaper on the floor. I have no explanation for that.<br /><br />Nor, do I have any explanation for why my daughter loves lizards, caterpillars, and crickets as much as she loves dressing up as a princess and wearing tiaras. She is well rounded.<br /><br />I try to be supportive of her interests, I really do. John does not want any "sissy" girls, and I agree with him. But, that lizard really creeps me out. I can handle the cute green ones. Oh, those are fine. But, the ones that resemble miniature Komodo dragons? John, please. There is only so much I can take.<br /><br />This morning Lauren figured out just how much they creep me out. I was helping her get dressed and she was holding the dragon, I mean lizard. As we were putting on her shorts she put her hand on my shoulder. The same hand that held the lizard. I screamed (like the girl that I am) and jumped away. Lauren laughed. She was delighted to see the look of horror that had flashed across my face. <br /><br />So, as I was bending down to finish helping her put on her shorts, she throws Rusty as close to my face as possible. "He wants to give you a kiss, Mommy." I told her I was allergic to lizard kisses. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8IU4IA2bBbfIp6FmOcogJknH75-Y4lqfpsAmEJZm5JnfVIr9ubI1UuV5t2ztgzHYpBqETFKc9oEGKdGFfKGg8oUBbhD3nts0LphqmLyDEnbMMqhrWVArbVbxuUDwhl15yaw3KGfr49yg/s1600-h/IMG_5029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8IU4IA2bBbfIp6FmOcogJknH75-Y4lqfpsAmEJZm5JnfVIr9ubI1UuV5t2ztgzHYpBqETFKc9oEGKdGFfKGg8oUBbhD3nts0LphqmLyDEnbMMqhrWVArbVbxuUDwhl15yaw3KGfr49yg/s320/IMG_5029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232243216017026610" border="0" /></a><br />Oh, and if you were wondering what a Komodo dragon is, here you go:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjDQ3d3kIw5KgbiH0gZRUw9D-dtVNKEhhnljMBqczfj6jCZCnPmmmKXuELrBlxRXMw7ne0gee53vRuVblXqqWi1qzLrdYnlkLVmAcDxyKU337tRZk4BVR64zy717QYGteIUFit_6XL5w/s1600-h/KomodoDragon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjDQ3d3kIw5KgbiH0gZRUw9D-dtVNKEhhnljMBqczfj6jCZCnPmmmKXuELrBlxRXMw7ne0gee53vRuVblXqqWi1qzLrdYnlkLVmAcDxyKU337tRZk4BVR64zy717QYGteIUFit_6XL5w/s320/KomodoDragon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232243690645436946" border="0" /></a>That is Rusty's cousin. Frightening, huh? Imagine a miniature version living in a mason jar inside your house!Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5568323082133706297.post-86716274506149156352008-08-01T15:58:00.000-05:002008-12-12T03:01:22.075-06:00Welcome to our Family Blog!Hi Friends!<br /><br />My goal is to have new pictures of the girls each week, we’ll see how long I can keep up. Okay, so I thought about that...there is NO way THAT will happen so we’ll go with every <span style="font-style: italic;">once</span> in while. I can handle that! (Karen, don't hold me to this, please.) This picture is my attempt at getting a “good” photo of my girls on Easter Sunday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgehndKW-9gR3_9M-JYcvn09UPMzHmaJh6xqf4JOJG-TGh7PspRSXyRuM5GHHysfCSkMAp7FS6JwEcZSnJYVHxmImInMk0xJ1QGB7wGOfeWsfm74pJTNguoK9-UkdyLmE7XBqhqfyrDu4k/s1600-h/IMG_4116.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgehndKW-9gR3_9M-JYcvn09UPMzHmaJh6xqf4JOJG-TGh7PspRSXyRuM5GHHysfCSkMAp7FS6JwEcZSnJYVHxmImInMk0xJ1QGB7wGOfeWsfm74pJTNguoK9-UkdyLmE7XBqhqfyrDu4k/s320/IMG_4116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229661270682253122" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A good photo of both is hard to come by.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5X0oQ3cm-tI3e9zhej4kkz8Zk1kNn3hjCCNIKMa1NKsK1EwhI811ONrZ4C-wn6TrEpQgKlPICqKiEhxW2FKG6Omq4xwf4Hh__cjOvP9j276V8y7ciwgK9ThEtxsaRGtudxPnrXQNHmNc/s1600-h/DSC00583.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5X0oQ3cm-tI3e9zhej4kkz8Zk1kNn3hjCCNIKMa1NKsK1EwhI811ONrZ4C-wn6TrEpQgKlPICqKiEhxW2FKG6Omq4xwf4Hh__cjOvP9j276V8y7ciwgK9ThEtxsaRGtudxPnrXQNHmNc/s320/DSC00583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229662045790049810" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Unless of course, they are in the bath tub and covered with bubbles. Who can resist the tub pictures? Good thing they are both under the age of 4. Let's keep everything here G-rated, people.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmONWHYkQ5fLovLuJtTF8IeqBCT1K7nwAoqZr0vFN6mPjV3DzfcBprw3t65iY4KGMJ7w4wBbCrbd9Gg7r4721R7VZnse4iJjL4WrYItNq7qgA_cy_KnxN4p88M_UD5-CGHZCHhlaieNo0/s1600-h/DSC00525.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmONWHYkQ5fLovLuJtTF8IeqBCT1K7nwAoqZr0vFN6mPjV3DzfcBprw3t65iY4KGMJ7w4wBbCrbd9Gg7r4721R7VZnse4iJjL4WrYItNq7qgA_cy_KnxN4p88M_UD5-CGHZCHhlaieNo0/s320/DSC00525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229663308087959826" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I guess I just need to let go of my desire for a decent family picture. I’ve accepted that it will never happen. Catherine was very grumpy and cold in this one.<br /><br />So what really frustrates me is Catherine’s non-existent attention span, Lauren’s “funny” faces, John’s short patience level, and my desperate attempts to get all bows in place and smiles on faces. My unattainable dream.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisni308i3RygWUuYF6GR6Eh2Fq7d99O7wF0pacUMD24e8WKnRuGFvz7iDWsj3hc0UNxIIqcAgiMENueU6iamgeWz0HWafrMyWyKBDqB0ENIcKZIBuHqGQKQvsMpFt4tDZhBkVHSNDC1bo/s1600-h/IMG_4130.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisni308i3RygWUuYF6GR6Eh2Fq7d99O7wF0pacUMD24e8WKnRuGFvz7iDWsj3hc0UNxIIqcAgiMENueU6iamgeWz0HWafrMyWyKBDqB0ENIcKZIBuHqGQKQvsMpFt4tDZhBkVHSNDC1bo/s320/IMG_4130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229664724005416194" border="0" /></a>Notice the forced smile on poor John's face. See how Catherine is desperately trying to free herself from my embrace. Maybe I should hire a professional....photographer, not hit man.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenFcRxOMFWztgQesNjM9eNFs53vLDUQSA-lQx1kehrHF97_gAQo5xa0PYKZVGXko3gY9ryTC62ynS_f_N90sOS5a8AjRBR-wd0A1bdq2OHkAzK-fImy6lKB7p6aXVMdufoFevnpS8Ks8/s1600-h/DSC00251.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenFcRxOMFWztgQesNjM9eNFs53vLDUQSA-lQx1kehrHF97_gAQo5xa0PYKZVGXko3gY9ryTC62ynS_f_N90sOS5a8AjRBR-wd0A1bdq2OHkAzK-fImy6lKB7p6aXVMdufoFevnpS8Ks8/s320/DSC00251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229667132765667218" border="0" /></a><br />See how long I've been seeking the perfect family picture? And, when I say perfect, I use that term loosely, very loosely. This was taken a year ago while visiting family in Rhode Island. Many of you have heard the story of my most recent trip to RI. What a debacle. I DO NOT, repeat DO NOT ever recommend flying alone with two small children. In fact, traveling anywhere alone with two small children is never a good idea. Just ask my sweet sister in-law, Karen. I'm just saying.<br /><br />So back to the photo issue. I mean, is it too much to ask to have four people simultaneously smile at the camera (and look happy?!) Check these out. My most recent attempt. We all have tried this or know someone that has.....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueTDG0s4jg-yuGcHwIXZ08qCV9dbPDTCNfdlxEw8w6cB-aeQr35HxXMdidAnbExPT7RBy58yQHm4r-Q7E7q_wNH54VpLuuNdQDsT4ObjoNoNt5TA-vthA_XGeaIkdyhK5hqp3WVDifHk/s1600-h/IMG_4640.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueTDG0s4jg-yuGcHwIXZ08qCV9dbPDTCNfdlxEw8w6cB-aeQr35HxXMdidAnbExPT7RBy58yQHm4r-Q7E7q_wNH54VpLuuNdQDsT4ObjoNoNt5TA-vthA_XGeaIkdyhK5hqp3WVDifHk/s320/IMG_4640.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229669882476618098" border="0" /></a>Wow. Poor John, isn't he a great sport? You know what he's thinking. How much longer do I have to endure this torture. The rest of your life, my friend. Don't even comment on my hair, it was windy. And apparently, Lauren had business to attend to....in her nose.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33r40gVWAqzlGKIG-Ijx-dzVCIbRRyRtsYT68Weka8gpQ32V8nPsIT5bV44pMpOiT3fI_oZMbw2e3YQKZAYXXD36t4oD5_oG3XrHgqk1zB5ECxhmagCUhEHdu4BXQnlHzu59oBk3lLKY/s1600-h/IMG_4646.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33r40gVWAqzlGKIG-Ijx-dzVCIbRRyRtsYT68Weka8gpQ32V8nPsIT5bV44pMpOiT3fI_oZMbw2e3YQKZAYXXD36t4oD5_oG3XrHgqk1zB5ECxhmagCUhEHdu4BXQnlHzu59oBk3lLKY/s320/IMG_4646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229671105914549026" border="0" /></a>Notice the expression on my face. This is the point at which I gave up.....for the evening. Next time I'll hire a professional. Or, do like my friend, Susie, and time my beach vacation for the same weekend as our photographer friend. That was pure genius, Susie. And, your beach pictures are beautiful....and make me very envious. I'm just saying.<br /><br />I did get this one photo I sort of like.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagv7U-7x_V7y-WpRes3vUyHqVsBlZBAOVjPh0OTuwZqL0f0_GcbpEhSXve3TIt7oYc-NyFfmn9iY7AQXHnsNkRavj_TZnQGum6TwBEh1eBBU6bjIFwJDBKGsXfquM7OY11dbPRINadm4/s1600-h/IMG_4611.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiagv7U-7x_V7y-WpRes3vUyHqVsBlZBAOVjPh0OTuwZqL0f0_GcbpEhSXve3TIt7oYc-NyFfmn9iY7AQXHnsNkRavj_TZnQGum6TwBEh1eBBU6bjIFwJDBKGsXfquM7OY11dbPRINadm4/s320/IMG_4611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229672479181595106" border="0" /></a>Notice how I tweaked the colors to make it look antiqued, sepia, or something? Isn't that cool? Man, I love my Mac. And, my girls. Oh, and John. And, okay....I love you too, Marley. When I'm not chasing you all around the neighborhood. But, that's another story for another time.<br /><br /></div>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09786319465127316049noreply@blogger.com8