<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564</id><updated>2011-08-01T16:18:00.493-05:00</updated><category term='sad'/><category term='vacations'/><category term='erin'/><category term='doctors'/><category term='garden'/><category term='updates'/><category term='boat'/><category term='fair'/><category term='Tim'/><category term='spray park'/><category term='summer'/><category term='laundry'/><category term='trains'/><category term='spring'/><category term='family'/><category term='potluck'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='reptiles'/><category term='grandma'/><category term='easter eggs'/><category term='work'/><category term='Trevor'/><category term='weddings'/><category term='kids'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='apples'/><category term='baseball'/><category term='halloween'/><category term='names'/><category term='pregnant'/><category term='soccer'/><category term='TBL'/><category term='babysitting'/><category term='Wii'/><category term='rants'/><category term='laughs'/><category term='camping'/><category term='fall'/><category term='school'/><category term='tractors'/><category term='cakes'/><category term='potty'/><category term='compost'/><category term='tball'/><category term='rain'/><category term='fire'/><category term='water park'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='boys vs girls'/><category term='carseats'/><category term='sick'/><category term='bones'/><category term='bikes'/><category term='kindergarten'/><category term='babies'/><category term='Blake'/><category term='DWTS'/><category term='beach'/><category term='Dad'/><category term='change'/><category term='christmas'/><category term='navy pier'/><category term='museum'/><category term='swim class'/><category term='vent'/><category term='decorating'/><category term='AR'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='GA'/><category term='green'/><category term='gifts'/><category term='deals'/><category term='zoo'/><category term='peer pressure'/><category term='basement'/><category term='happy thoughts'/><category term='oopsies'/><category term='friends'/><category term='car'/><category term='shoes'/><category term='sharing'/><category term='meme'/><category term='mommy'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='Cubs'/><category term='carpet'/><category term='kites'/><category term='politics'/><category term='gym'/><category term='meltdown'/><category term='parenting'/><category term='games'/><category term='labor'/><category term='mam-gu'/><category term='reality tv'/><category term='blog'/><category term='imagination'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='crafts'/><category term='dairy'/><category term='daddy'/><category term='tshirt blankets'/><category term='food'/><category term='behavior'/><category term='blog name'/><category term='baby #3'/><category term='mall'/><category term='Isabelle'/><category term='dentist'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='snow'/><category term='linda'/><category term='Delaware'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>Children are Like Snowflakes</title><subtitle type='html'>The Life and Times of a Mom of 3 Children</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>225</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3905292110835422142</id><published>2011-02-09T14:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T20:36:08.729-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carseats'/><title type='text'>Not a Helicopter Mom, A Parachute Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Are you familiar with the term "helicopter parent"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;According to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helicopter_parent"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;, "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Helicopter parents are so named because, like helicopters  they hover closely overhead, rarely out of reach, whether their  children need them or not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;It is also called "overparenting". Parents try to resolve their child's  problems, and try to stop them coming to harm by keeping them out of dangerous situations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"  Wiki also points out that it is an "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;ineffective parenting style"  .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;If you know me at all, you know that I don't plan or try to be a helicopter parent.  And hopefully I'm reaching that goal!  I've tried hard to let my children learn thru trial and error when at all possible.  No, I didn't let them run out in the busy street and get run over by a car... not effective.  And I have no desire to see my children dead, or to be reported to DCFS!   But I have let them fall of bikes, trip over rocks, break toys that they didn't want broken, lose toys that they wanted to take in the mall, etc.  I've let them live life and try to let them learn a lot on their own. I'll suggest to them, "Hey let's leave your favorite dinosaur in the car."  But if the argument is good/long/strong enough, I've let them bring that fav toy into the mall.  Hopefully we don't lose it, but we have lost things and it's been upsetting for my children.  Yes, it sucks at the time... but the next trip to the mall, they didn't argue when I asked them to leave their toys in the car.  Lesson learned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I clearly remember a playground incident when Trev was about 2 years old.  I was sitting nearby, under a tree, nursing Blake.  One moment I looked over and T was happily playing, the next time I looked over (30 seconds later?) he was being held upside down by a boy probably 5 or 6 years old.  WOW!!!  I flew across the playground, grabbed him and helped him get right-side-up again.  A few seconds later the other parent appeared and took her son away to talk with him (thank goodness, cause I don't know what I might have done).  Do I enjoy this memory?  Nope....Trev was obviously scared.  But I wouldn't change that I wasn't hovering right over him to change that it happened.  Do I think the other parent should have been hovering over her child?  Nope... she saw the problem right away and responded by removing her child and disciplining him.  No one was hurt, Trev went back to playing shortly after, and all was fine in the world (oh,and Blake was still nursing....no interrupting him when he's eating!!!).   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay.... right turn, Clyde....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I read an article about car seats.  (Stay with me here, this will all tie together I promise.)  In the article, the author used a great analogy..."the whole idea of the car seat is to act as your  child's parachute in a  crash".  The full article can be read &lt;a href="http://thecarseatlady.blogspot.com/2011/01/coats-n-car-seats-are-not-safe-combo.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; but the basics are this... The car seat is a child's parachute in the event your car crashes.  It slows them down and helps them come to the slowest and gentlest stop possible.  If their parachute (aka car seat) is loose, the forces of the stop are much more jolting potentially causing them much more harm than necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is such a well written understandable analogy.  In her article she goes on to talk about why big puffy coats under car seat straps are bad.  After all, you wouldn't want a big puffy coat between you and your parachute harness right?  But I digress.  As much as I fully agree with her point and am a big proponent of car seat safety, that's not the point of my post today (shocking, I know, can you believe it!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon thinking about it further, this principle extends far beyond the car seat to me, it's a valid parenting analogy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I want to be a parachute parent. (I'm trademarking that term right here, right now!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;To go back to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: times new roman;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parachute"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;"the word "parachute" comes  from the French &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;para,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt; meaning "to  prepare for" or "to protect against".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; I want to help my child stay safe, and slow down enough not to get hurt.  I want to help them glide safely through life and land in adult-hood (gee, that was cheesy!).  I want them to remember what I've taught them, carry it with them, and use it when they need it.  But I can't and don't want to be hovering over them every second of the day, to do it for them.  They have to carry their own parachute and know when to pull the rip-cord.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I want to prepare them for life and the challenges they will face so that I know that they can handle them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Times,'Times New Roman',serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there ya go.... I've got my new philosophy.  And yeah, my kids still don't wear puffy coats in their car seats.  They've got their parachutes on, and I want those straps tight... just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3905292110835422142?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3905292110835422142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3905292110835422142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3905292110835422142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3905292110835422142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2011/02/not-helicopter-mom-parachute-mom.html' title='Not a Helicopter Mom, A Parachute Mom'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2867358717306170405</id><published>2011-02-07T19:49:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T20:54:12.420-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>The little girl who demanded....</title><content type='html'>Tonight after dinner, Trev took a shower.  Nothing remarkable in that.  He went and did most of the work himself, and came downstairs in his jammies with wet hair, ready to play Wii.  Again, nothing remarkable.  Blake and Iz are waiting down on the couch, Wii remotes in hand.  Daddy turns on the Wii, and Izzy runs for the stairs.  Now that's remarkable!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No she can't truly play the Wii, but don't tell her that.  She grabs a remote anytime she sees someone else with one, and sits on the couch and pushes buttons and shakes it around and watches the screen and squeals in delight.  She thinks she's playing.  So why, when it's Wii time, is she running for the stairs???  She was talking away, telling me what she wanted.  If only I understood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We figured maybe she was ready for bed.  So I followed her upstairs.  She demanded I take off her clothes, and then she removed her diaper.  I was ready to put her in jammies... she had other thoughts.  Off to the bathroom she ran!  Yay, I thought, she wants to go potty.  Nope... she stopped in front of the cabinet and opened it.  It was only then that I realized what she wanted....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She grabbed a crayon and climbed in the empty bathtub.  And then she talked/yelled at me until I turned on the water.  So she got a bath.... just like Trevor, just like she wanted!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she used her crayon.  And told me what she was doing.  Listen for yourself....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c733d332dbc4c1bd" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc733d332dbc4c1bd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D75A8D968CC29D6085DC0881A6306845E4043260.56B18E535875EA263A3B1B20E3FA48202A63C63D%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc733d332dbc4c1bd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxeIP1V0UHQEZo3lDG1pnvtHER_g&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc733d332dbc4c1bd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D75A8D968CC29D6085DC0881A6306845E4043260.56B18E535875EA263A3B1B20E3FA48202A63C63D%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc733d332dbc4c1bd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DxeIP1V0UHQEZo3lDG1pnvtHER_g&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you're not fluent in baby/Izzy speak, she said "I drawing Elmo".  And she did!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and then she poured buckets of water all over her head! And to think... this is the girl that used to hate the bathtub!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2867358717306170405?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2867358717306170405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2867358717306170405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2867358717306170405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2867358717306170405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2011/02/little-girl-who-demanded.html' title='The little girl who demanded....'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2888766624210672536</id><published>2011-01-25T22:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T23:07:12.141-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>PTOs and Play-dates</title><content type='html'>It's a parenting rite of passage I guess, and I'm just getting thrown in and figuring this all out - or trying to at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the last year and a half, I've willingly and regularly attended the PTO meetings at Trevor's school.  I figure it's my job/duty as a parent (especially a SAHM), since it's at night during the week I don't usually have a conflict and since I'll have a kid at that school for the next 11 years (yikes!!) I should really get involved and find out what's going on around there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His school has about 450 students, and at most I've seen 15 parents in that room, and 3 teachers.  I don't understand.  The 15 moms (I've seen a dad only once that I recall) are the same 15 moms that run all the events/fundraisers/programs that are needed/expected/desired by the remaining 400 families/teachers.  And yet, half the people in the room don't fully know what the purpose/goal of the PTO is... and the rest of the 450 families surely don't.  It's no wonder that fundraisers are only vaguely successful when most of the people being asked for money don't know what it's for.  The apathy and lack of involvement/interest absolutely boggles me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I don't know is how to fix it, or even help it much.  I'm guessing that sooner than later, I will be jumping into a bunch of those committees (not that I haven't done a few already) and I'll be on the PTO board sooner than I expected.  If I want the best for my kids and their education, what other choice is there?  But once I'm part of the board and the committees... then what?  How does it change so that more people are aware and involved?  Ugh....I think I just found my new full-time (not for profit) job.  Oh wait, I already have one of those!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other topic (sorry, no logical or entertaining segue's here!), Trevor got invited to his first play-date at a classmates house.  To this point, we haven't known many of the kids in his class very well, other than getting invited to their birthday parties (that topic is worthy of a whole seperate post!).  I spend time each week in his classroom helping out, so I know many of the kids, but I don't know the parents.  Before he started school last year, we hung out with a group of my friends and their kids where the mom's were all friends so we were all together always.  So, this whole notion of "Hi, I've never met you but sure my kid can come to your house and play for 3 hours without me there and then you can drive him home is fine" is kinda weird for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But  T came home with a note that E would like him to come play sometime soon.  And he talks about E alot and they play soccer against each other and I know he wants to go play (and I don't want him to be left out of this part of childhood), so I called and talked to E's mom and after deciding that after school is already rushed, we agreed that T would go there and play on Saturday afternoon.  Why there?  Because they invited us, and because a classmate lives around the corner that they are both friends with.  So Saturday came, and we called to say we'd be over soon.... except no one was home.  All afternoon!  Talk about sad Trevor.  We left a message but didn't hear back til Monday.  So aside from dealing with T's heartbreak over the lack of play-date, I still haven't fully done this whole "play-date" thing and am still over-anticipating it (in true me-style) until this Saturday.  I'm not an over-bearing, worrywart, helicopter type parent by nature....but still, this is uncharted territory for me and him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2888766624210672536?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2888766624210672536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2888766624210672536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2888766624210672536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2888766624210672536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2011/01/ptos-and-play-dates.html' title='PTOs and Play-dates'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7375277868438372228</id><published>2011-01-16T19:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T19:58:36.651-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>The Little Girl Who Cried "Stinky"</title><content type='html'>Yeah so it's been almost 3 months since I've written anything!  I have no excuses, so I'll just try to move on and ignore it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!  I do have hopes to write much more this year than last.  I really view this blog as a "fancy" journal for keeping track of milestones and achievements and funny stories for the whole family.  I missed quite a few of those in the last few months, so hopefully I can start this new year on the right foot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of yesterday, Izzy is 21 months old.  However, she's already joined the ranks of the "terrible 2's".   She's mastered the word "NO!" and will throw a fit (complete with lying on the floor) if she doesn't get what she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOiGtMk37I/AAAAAAAAB6U/nDeyWCwumdM/s1600/DSC05499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOiGtMk37I/AAAAAAAAB6U/nDeyWCwumdM/s320/DSC05499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562968200827953074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's growing up much faster than I remember either of the boys doing so.   The highchair is gone, she'd rather sit in a booster at the table with the rest of us.  She's been drinking from a big girl cup or a straw cup and has little patience for "sippy cups" anymore!  Two nights ago, we converted her crib into a toddler bed.  She's fallen out twice (once each night) but otherwise has had no problems going to sleep (for naps too) and staying in bed.  It seems she still thinks she can't get out!!!  A thought I'm not going to change!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOgo4SVCbI/AAAAAAAAB58/kPxNt68g0Fc/s1600/DSC05501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOgo4SVCbI/AAAAAAAAB58/kPxNt68g0Fc/s320/DSC05501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562966588897167794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most obvious way in which she seems to be growing up is her increased awareness of all things potty-related.  She's no longer willing to sit in a wet diaper, and if it's a poopy diaper, she will IMMEDIATELY inform you and demand a diaper change. She'll voice her demand by coming over to you and saying "stinky".   In the last few weeks, this has escalated to wanting to sit on the potty and try to go. Again, this demand is voiced by the word "stinky".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOgpYX9srI/AAAAAAAAB6E/18CmlDZZCxM/s1600/DSC05945.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOgpYX9srI/AAAAAAAAB6E/18CmlDZZCxM/s320/DSC05945.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562966597510738610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this is great and wonderful.  But lately, the demand to sit on the potty comes every 20-30 minutes, and rarely is accompanied by any results.  20 minutes later she will come over to me yelling "stinky" again and wanting to sit on the potty.  But in the last few days, it is rare that she does anything more than sit on the potty for 3 seconds and then get up and run all over the house nekkied and laughing like a maniac.  Dare you try to put her diaper back on, she'll pitch a fit that she needs to go "stinky" again!!  She demands to sit on it, but won't do anything!  So now she's the little girl who cried "stinky".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I should be thrilled that she's showing interest in being PT'd so early (especially compared to other members of the family!)....  but I can't handle all this terrible 2's drama already!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOgplRLDvI/AAAAAAAAB6M/26ewBTVMmos/s1600/DSC05946.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOgplRLDvI/AAAAAAAAB6M/26ewBTVMmos/s320/DSC05946.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562966600971914994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7375277868438372228?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7375277868438372228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7375277868438372228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7375277868438372228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7375277868438372228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2011/01/little-girl-who-cried-stinky.html' title='The Little Girl Who Cried &quot;Stinky&quot;'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TTOiGtMk37I/AAAAAAAAB6U/nDeyWCwumdM/s72-c/DSC05499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2847187327581882028</id><published>2010-10-28T13:56:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T14:56:54.031-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weddings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soccer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>October</title><content type='html'>It  has been brought to my attention (Hi Mother!) that I haven't blogged in  quite some time.  But when I logged in, and couldn't remember my  password, then I realized that it really has been way too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  could attempt to explain why....  Reasons such as being busy seem silly  since everyone I know is CRAZY busy right now.  The fact that my laptop  is no longer portable because it can't run on battery power for more  than 3 minutes, is a sad fact, but it's still totally use-able, so not a  great excuse!  The fact that I now have a web-enabled phone is a great  thing, and means that I use my phone for most of my internet access,  which means I'm not even touching the aforementioned laptop very often.   This is cool, but it's really hard to blog from a mobile device with a  touch-screen keypad....I could do it, but so far I haven't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,  enough bad excuses.  Here's the month in photos!  Yikes, I just  downloaded 183 of them!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor the Cub Scout ready for his Den meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJsO0JoAI/AAAAAAAAB20/Z6J0jEeY6Hc/s1600/DSC04776.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJsO0JoAI/AAAAAAAAB20/Z6J0jEeY6Hc/s320/DSC04776.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533175378929623042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was done taking pictures of Trevor, Izzy went and stood in the same spot... so I took her picture!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJsj2Xk2I/AAAAAAAAB28/jaIPjXfQo3U/s1600/DSC04778.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJsj2Xk2I/AAAAAAAAB28/jaIPjXfQo3U/s320/DSC04778.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533175384576070498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought Daddy a new car, since the clutch on the old one was about dead.  You can also see the new garage door which finally got installed in late September.  The old one got blown-out by the strong winds we have out here and the metal support rods broke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJtZFwwxI/AAAAAAAAB3E/wDWw18na-GU/s1600/DSC04779.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJtZFwwxI/AAAAAAAAB3E/wDWw18na-GU/s320/DSC04779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533175398867714834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've done many soccer games and practices in the last month.  These are pictures from one of the warmest October days we had, about 70 at 10 in the morning!  This is about the 7th game of the season, and the first one we won!  It's been a long season!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJthA3GNI/AAAAAAAAB3M/uQvAr0ilxBk/s1600/DSC04781.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJthA3GNI/AAAAAAAAB3M/uQvAr0ilxBk/s320/DSC04781.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533175400994642130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Izzy came and enjoyed this game!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJt3TPLGI/AAAAAAAAB3U/9Stu-bgSCZU/s1600/DSC04797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJt3TPLGI/AAAAAAAAB3U/9Stu-bgSCZU/s320/DSC04797.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533175406977297506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we had big happenings around here.  Trevor lost his first tooth.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKyBWZl1I/AAAAAAAAB3s/_oa2m8HgVfQ/s1600/DSC04812.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKyBWZl1I/AAAAAAAAB3s/_oa2m8HgVfQ/s320/DSC04812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533176577906022226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKxk1GnOI/AAAAAAAAB3c/u_lJK2HEFmc/s1600/DSC04809.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But he actually LOST it (as in gone, can't find it) while on the playground for recess at school.  After being upset, the music teacher helped him calm down, and suggested writing the tooth fairy a note.  So he did....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKx_4jbHI/AAAAAAAAB3k/nJVHy_SmVn8/s1600/DSC04811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKx_4jbHI/AAAAAAAAB3k/nJVHy_SmVn8/s320/DSC04811.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533176577512402034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And it all turned out okay!  The tooth fairy accepts notes in cases like this, in case you were wondering!  She took the note in exchange for $1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a surprise visit from my brother for a weekend.  He was on the west coast for business, and had planned to go to Vancouver to visit friends, but he forgot his passport!  Oopsies!  So instead he came to see us!  Great surprise, great visit.  But I didn't take any pictures of it....oops!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days letter was Trevor's class field trip to the pumpkin farm.  I'm thrilled I got to go, and we had a great time.  They got to pick 3 different kinds gourds, a pumpkin, and 3 different colors of Indian corn to bring home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKyUYC8qI/AAAAAAAAB30/0ju-GUCUdZA/s1600/DSC04819.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKyUYC8qI/AAAAAAAAB30/0ju-GUCUdZA/s320/DSC04819.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533176583013200546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole class posed...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKyid_laI/AAAAAAAAB38/Am6M5sPfEC8/s1600/DSC04840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnKyid_laI/AAAAAAAAB38/Am6M5sPfEC8/s320/DSC04840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533176586796242338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trevor playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMsGGpp0I/AAAAAAAAB4E/-c82_A4t_mo/s1600/DSC04860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMsGGpp0I/AAAAAAAAB4E/-c82_A4t_mo/s320/DSC04860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533178675126183746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we dressed up our house for Halloween.  We put up the pumpkin face last year, and this year we decided to add the orange behind the garage door windows (which we didn't have last year!).  I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMsc-MoHI/AAAAAAAAB4M/kkHVO288XpU/s1600/DSC04872.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMsc-MoHI/AAAAAAAAB4M/kkHVO288XpU/s320/DSC04872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533178681264742514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we've had some downtime between all the crazy.  This was one weekend morning when Izzy wanted to watch a show with all her buddies (and Daddy!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMtBKParI/AAAAAAAAB4U/IMz25Z4vx5Y/s1600/DSC04883.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMtBKParI/AAAAAAAAB4U/IMz25Z4vx5Y/s320/DSC04883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533178690978933426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This past weekend, we went to a family wedding.  I think it's the first one the kids have been to, and they did a pretty good job!  Trevor asked to wear his tie.  He asked to buy the tie too, for his holiday performance at school!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMt3vcNqI/AAAAAAAAB4c/zCnojzyp__Q/s1600/DSC04886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMt3vcNqI/AAAAAAAAB4c/zCnojzyp__Q/s320/DSC04886.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533178705630475938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy didn't sit for much, if any, of the ceremony.  But afterwards, she was happy to sit... since there was food!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMunzmqDI/AAAAAAAAB4k/PPOoaXJDPE8/s1600/DSC04921.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnMunzmqDI/AAAAAAAAB4k/PPOoaXJDPE8/s320/DSC04921.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533178718532839474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hubby and some of the family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS7pBA1EI/AAAAAAAAB4s/_QxHqP_h90o/s1600/DSC04929.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS7pBA1EI/AAAAAAAAB4s/_QxHqP_h90o/s320/DSC04929.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533185539265582146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keeping the boys entertained.  They were playing games on the (previously&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;mentioned) internet-ready phone.  Great way to entertain them!!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS8i2n1jI/AAAAAAAAB40/CFSXUw8eMRQ/s1600/DSC04932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS8i2n1jI/AAAAAAAAB40/CFSXUw8eMRQ/s320/DSC04932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533185554791257650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy had fun running over to the couch and sitting with the guys! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS8zUkzbI/AAAAAAAAB48/5vjtq6fPpwk/s1600/DSC04935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS8zUkzbI/AAAAAAAAB48/5vjtq6fPpwk/s320/DSC04935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533185559211855282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night we continued our Halloween preparations and painted bats with Scary &amp;amp; Kate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS9A4qlGI/AAAAAAAAB5E/XAm8pS-Udx4/s1600/DSC04948.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnS9A4qlGI/AAAAAAAAB5E/XAm8pS-Udx4/s320/DSC04948.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533185562852889698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnUlMNRecI/AAAAAAAAB5U/s6PMt24jU-I/s1600/DSC04950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnUlMNRecI/AAAAAAAAB5U/s6PMt24jU-I/s320/DSC04950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533187352598510018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy enjoyed watching... for the first 5 minutes (not even).  After that, she wanted part of the action too....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnUkooomyI/AAAAAAAAB5M/MvnQFrkjZyY/s1600/DSC04949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnUkooomyI/AAAAAAAAB5M/MvnQFrkjZyY/s320/DSC04949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533187343049595682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So we let her join in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnUlZTK42I/AAAAAAAAB5c/In8VDDYfoL4/s1600/DSC04954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnUlZTK42I/AAAAAAAAB5c/In8VDDYfoL4/s320/DSC04954.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533187356112905058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow through Sunday continues to be full of Halloween fun and lots of photo opps.  I'll be sure to take a bunch and post them sometime before Christmas!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2847187327581882028?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2847187327581882028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2847187327581882028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2847187327581882028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2847187327581882028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/10/october.html' title='October'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TMnJsO0JoAI/AAAAAAAAB20/Z6J0jEeY6Hc/s72-c/DSC04776.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-640382927105560122</id><published>2010-09-16T10:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T10:12:51.566-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Izzy's New Game</title><content type='html'>This is the newest game that Izzy and Trevor like to play!  Sometimes I wonder which one of them likes it more!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-129be1d51d90dcf8" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D129be1d51d90dcf8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3143EC2BE6730EA1E7612C2C23E259A3345763F8.FCEC140DC82707A0E94C173660F2315503A5758%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D129be1d51d90dcf8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DVxGtlMNibU0zUNsv17dPJHtS4-A&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D129be1d51d90dcf8%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3143EC2BE6730EA1E7612C2C23E259A3345763F8.FCEC140DC82707A0E94C173660F2315503A5758%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D129be1d51d90dcf8%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DVxGtlMNibU0zUNsv17dPJHtS4-A&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-640382927105560122?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/640382927105560122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=640382927105560122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/640382927105560122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/640382927105560122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/09/izzys-new-game.html' title='Izzy&apos;s New Game'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7250459878770309311</id><published>2010-09-15T22:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T12:26:59.626-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Izzy is 17 months!</title><content type='html'>Seriously!  She's almost 1 and 1/2!!!  Wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, she can't ride the tricycle yet, but don't tell HER that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF5QDajNBI/AAAAAAAAB2E/0wCxR9x1xFQ/s1600/DSC04576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF5QDajNBI/AAAAAAAAB2E/0wCxR9x1xFQ/s320/DSC04576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517324335207101458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words she can say:&lt;br /&gt;mama&lt;br /&gt;dada (at least sometimes, many times she calls him mama too!)&lt;br /&gt;baby&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;peek-boo&lt;br /&gt;up-y (as in, "pick me up-y")&lt;br /&gt;thank you (more like tank-u)&lt;br /&gt;cookie&lt;br /&gt;beep (as in, push on my nose and say "beep")&lt;br /&gt;kitty&lt;br /&gt;brother (sounds like "bubba" or "bruba")&lt;br /&gt;coffee&lt;br /&gt;diaper&lt;br /&gt;poop&lt;br /&gt;bus&lt;br /&gt;dino (and usually, this is followed by "raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She understands all kinds of things beyond what she can say, including "put your cup in the sink" (which she does!), "sit down"(which she doesn't do!), "time for diaper/jammies" (and when she hears this she heads for the stairs), and "shoes" and then she'll got get hers so we can go outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF5PmwvNJI/AAAAAAAAB18/cYAVqWOvzXg/s1600/DSC04588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF5PmwvNJI/AAAAAAAAB18/cYAVqWOvzXg/s320/DSC04588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517324327515534482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's the queen of dirty looks!  Dare you say hello to her, she'll grace you with one, and even once she knows you and is comfortable around you, you'll get a variety of looks somewhere between shy, cute, coy, and mean!  It's too cute most of the time!  However, she LOVES the camera, so it's actualy quite hard to get a picture of the diry looks.... this is close to one of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF65PwfF_I/AAAAAAAAB2c/oP_j_z9sn6Y/s1600/DSC04591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF65PwfF_I/AAAAAAAAB2c/oP_j_z9sn6Y/s320/DSC04591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517326142406596594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves to climb, and isn't particular about what she's climbing.  The couch, the table (I found her standing in the middle of the kitchen table once!), the toys, the slide.  She climbs anything she can!  She also loves playing with anything that belongs to her brothers.  She's gotten very attached to toy dinos, has learned to say the word, and loves to watch "Dinosaur Train" on TV with them!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF53Te2VdI/AAAAAAAAB2M/96P3iZ-y4Jw/s1600/DSC04604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF53Te2VdI/AAAAAAAAB2M/96P3iZ-y4Jw/s320/DSC04604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517325009534997970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She loves playing with her brothers.  She and Trev seem to have a special bond, but with him gone all day at school, she's been hanging with Blake a lot more and having a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, she's definitely growing up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF64Uypi6I/AAAAAAAAB2U/rabPIYIMyHU/s1600/DSC04622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF64Uypi6I/AAAAAAAAB2U/rabPIYIMyHU/s320/DSC04622.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517326126577978274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7250459878770309311?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7250459878770309311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7250459878770309311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7250459878770309311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7250459878770309311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/09/izzy-is-17-months.html' title='Izzy is 17 months!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TJF5QDajNBI/AAAAAAAAB2E/0wCxR9x1xFQ/s72-c/DSC04576.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5095202813852425452</id><published>2010-09-14T14:49:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T15:30:42.103-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>School Times Two</title><content type='html'>Finally, everyone is back to school around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor started  first grade 3.5 weeks ago, on August 17!  Yes, mid-August is now  back-to-school time.  Personally, that feels way too early and way to  HOT for school.  Day 1 was no problem, it was also a half-day.  He knew  that there were 4 or 5 kids from kindergarten that would be in his first  grade class.  He was curious and excited to meet his teacher, see his  friends, and meet his new classmates.&lt;br /&gt;Trevor's first day, Blake and Izzy were waiting with him at the bus stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a3ObgOqI/AAAAAAAAB10/Y4zqI7lLvQs/s1600/DSC04098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a3ObgOqI/AAAAAAAAB10/Y4zqI7lLvQs/s320/DSC04098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516868710853261986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trev was all smiles, with his hair spiked, the shirt he picked out ("Blame My Sister") and his skull sling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a2o6T9tI/AAAAAAAAB1s/2Z6gJeu94eo/s1600/DSC04099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a2o6T9tI/AAAAAAAAB1s/2Z6gJeu94eo/s320/DSC04099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516868700781934290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The bus is coming, GROUP HUG everyone!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a2F_qWSI/AAAAAAAAB1k/a5mk1Vw1JjA/s1600/DSC04100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a2F_qWSI/AAAAAAAAB1k/a5mk1Vw1JjA/s320/DSC04100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516868691409131810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day 2 and onward, have been a struggle of varying degrees.  Each morning he tells me he doesn't want to go to school.  Some days it's a mention of it, other days it's a meltdown!!!  His reasons vary from being bored by doing kindergarten level work (review), to missing his brother and sister, to it not being fair since I don't go to school (and get to spend all day with Izzy), to him not feeling good.  He gets on the bus with tears in his eyes, nearly every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_YhdjJVeI/AAAAAAAAB1c/vwcMuG1sEPo/s1600/DSC04103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_YhdjJVeI/AAAAAAAAB1c/vwcMuG1sEPo/s320/DSC04103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516866137931470306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inevitably, he gets home with a HUGE smile on his face and happy stories of friends and what happened that day in class.  But as the evening goes on, he refuses to do homework, and starts to get upset again at the thought of going back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy is ALWAYS thrilled to see him.  She cries when the bus leaves with him on it, and runs out to meet him when it drops him off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_YghybjHI/AAAAAAAAB1U/YzMEO-doiqw/s1600/DSC04116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_YghybjHI/AAAAAAAAB1U/YzMEO-doiqw/s320/DSC04116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516866121889451122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, he's doing amazing work....he's a pro at spelling (100% on all three spelling tests so far), he's great at math, and he's pretty good at reading!  Now if only they would do something that would challenge him!!! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Blake FINALLY started school.  The fact that B didn't start til now did not help Trevor at all!  So hopefully, things will get smoother from here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake was ready, if not excited, to go back.  We see quite a few of his school friends during the summer as their mom's are friends of mine.   This year brings a new classroom, new teachers, and more days of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B willingly posed, with Izzy before we left.  This is one of the RARE times that he didn't run the other way or hide when the camera came out!!!  Since he had a backpack, she needed one too!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_T8zsZQYI/AAAAAAAAB08/cbziyMxLBE0/s1600/DSC04600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_T8zsZQYI/AAAAAAAAB08/cbziyMxLBE0/s320/DSC04600.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516861110174171522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We got to the room, and immediately Blake and Izzy were off playing with dinos.  I had to wonder who was the kid going to school as Izzy seemed ready to stay and play, and could have cared less if I was there!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the projects of the day was to find their name and make a beaded necklace to wear for the first week.  Beads are one of Blake's favorite activities, he's quite the artistic child, so he was thrilled to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_T9S1EGPI/AAAAAAAAB1E/BaXESWkppQk/s1600/DSC04610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_T9S1EGPI/AAAAAAAAB1E/BaXESWkppQk/s320/DSC04610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516861118532032754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, we left the dinosaurs, and Blake decided to work with the Lincoln Logs.  He, of course, built the tallest house he could, with as many logs as he could find.  As he finished, one of his teachers came over and asked if he was a Packer fan since the roof was green &amp;amp; gold.  He claimed no, but I know he is!!  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_UOwez0LI/AAAAAAAAB1M/KK7bmRzU57s/s1600/DSC04619.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_UOwez0LI/AAAAAAAAB1M/KK7bmRzU57s/s320/DSC04619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516861418549530802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Incidentally, that was his only interaction with any of his teachers.   While he knows their names, he didn't want to talk to any of them  yesterday!  Tomorrow is his first regular day where I drop him off for 2.5 hours and come back later.  We'll see how he does!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_T8zsZQYI/AAAAAAAAB08/cbziyMxLBE0/s1600/DSC04600.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5095202813852425452?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5095202813852425452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5095202813852425452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5095202813852425452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5095202813852425452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/09/school-times-two.html' title='School Times Two'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TI_a3ObgOqI/AAAAAAAAB10/Y4zqI7lLvQs/s72-c/DSC04098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-27800739915854785</id><published>2010-08-22T20:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T20:35:00.250-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Bucket List Part Deux</title><content type='html'>Just after my Bucket List post, I read an article in a parenting magazine, "Savor the Last Drops of Summer".  Basically, a list of things you should manage to do this summer.  Many we did, many we did not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now a "Bucket List 2011" of all the things we didn't do this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit the seashore (we did make it to a lakeshore this year)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lie in a hammock&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jump off a diving board&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make a fort&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find a rainbow&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stargaze&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Look for cloud formations&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take a nap on the lawn&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Search for sea glass&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Skip rocks&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dig for worms&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Set up a lemonade stand&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put on a play&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make mud pies&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tell ghost stories&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Build a sand castle&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn to do a cartwheel&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Play kickball&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do the hula&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go on a scavenger hunt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Build a box car&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;It's a good starting point at least.  It seems the simple little things get missed the most!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-27800739915854785?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/27800739915854785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=27800739915854785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/27800739915854785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/27800739915854785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/08/bucket-list-part-deux.html' title='Bucket List Part Deux'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-280375615472930967</id><published>2010-08-21T20:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T20:35:12.055-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bones'/><title type='text'>6 years and 2 weeks</title><content type='html'>That's how long it took.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know for what??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first of my children to break a bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks after his 6th birthday, Trevor broke his right collarbone.  Daddy, Blake and Izzy were present in the room when it happened.  Me... I was 692 miles away on vacation in upstate New York!!!  Talk about feeling helpless!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started because t-ball was canceled.  Although the weather seemed nice, apparently there was standing water on the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the morning, a used disposable diaper had been ripped apart and the little beads that absorb the moisture were all over the floor of the boys room.  So Daddy wanted to vacuum it up.  He did so with all three kids in the room (kudos to him, but I think that's crazy... I would have put a movie on and left them downstairs!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he vacuumed he decided to clean the rest of their room, including under a chair in the corner where the cats sleep.  So he moved the chair out of the corner of the room, and into the middle and the kids played on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Can you figure out what happened yet??).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both boys were on the chair (I have no idea where Izzy was)...  T was sitting on it, and B climbed up the back of the chair (which is normal, but has no effect when the chair is in the corner).  B climbed up... the chair tipped over... T flew out of the chair, and whacked his collarbone on the bunk bed post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately, two things were true...  Trevor felt no pain  and Daddy KNEW it was broken.  He KNEW because he broke his twice as a kid.  I later learned that his Dad broke his once so it's a requirement for the oldest son on that side of the family.  On the plus side, Daddy's younger brother didn't break his, so we can hope B won't either!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finding Aunt Kate to come stay with B and Iz, Daddy took T to the ER.  It took an x-ray, a 3-minute visit by the Dr, and a $450 ER bill to tell us what we already knew.  It took $50 to get T a sling that he HATED (because it has teddy bears and balloons on it and is very babyish).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I came home.  Nothing much had changed.  Monday, as recommended by the ER doc, I took him to an orthopedist to recheck it and see if anything else needed to be done.   She said it was fine, nothing to worry about, sling for 4 weeks, no swimming, t-ball etc, and she'd recheck it in a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days later Aunt Kate provided a great fix for the sling....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/THB9IhibOBI/AAAAAAAAB0s/r11Z5zQ0FjM/s1600/DSC03937.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/THB9IhibOBI/AAAAAAAAB0s/r11Z5zQ0FjM/s320/DSC03937.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508039929669302290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part Trev has been pretty good during this last month.  But the realization that he couldn't play t-ball (3 weeks left) or swim for the week of summer camp (which started 2 days after he broke it) made him REALLY mad.  Mostly because it was Blake's 'fault' that he was injured, but Blake was able to do all those activities.  The other part of the problem is that it's never hurt him.  It's hard to stop a 6-year-old from being active when the broken bone doesn't hurt!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried to take pictures of the two sides, but it's very hard to see  anything in pictures.  At first there was a visible difference, and even  now there is still a bump on the side he broke.  I just hope that  doesn't mean it healed wrong!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday is his follow up appointment with new x-rays scheduled.  In the last week he's been swimming and I even let him play the last week of t-ball (lefty of course!).  I'm just hoping that the x-ray shows all is well!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-280375615472930967?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/280375615472930967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=280375615472930967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/280375615472930967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/280375615472930967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/08/6-years-and-2-weeks.html' title='6 years and 2 weeks'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/THB9IhibOBI/AAAAAAAAB0s/r11Z5zQ0FjM/s72-c/DSC03937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1022207221762201656</id><published>2010-08-13T21:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T21:29:24.426-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>Bucket List</title><content type='html'>When summer vacation started on May 27th, I didn't ask Trev what he wanted to do this summer.  In retrospect, I should have.  I didn't ask Blake either, but that is probably for the best!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, I tried to plan a fun summer that all three kids would enjoy and that would take advantage of all the free time we would have.  After all, this fall brings full-time school and that restricts the activities that we can participate in (or at least, when we can participate in them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look back, here's a few of the things we can check of this summer's bucket list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;participate in soccer league (Trev)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;attend graduation party&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;attend mommy's volleyball games (and stay up and out past bedtime!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to lots of friend's birthday parties and celebrate two of our own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to new village park grand opening, play in soccer tournament, win our first game, play in the rain, and jump in huge mud puddles&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;learn all about reptiles at the library&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to lots of new parks and a bunch of old favorites&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to a MLB baseball game (not the Cubs!-at the kids request)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;visit Grandpa&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;learn how to make cool scientific reactions using basic household materials (vinegar, baking soda, m&amp;amp;m's and more) (more fun at the library)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go camping and get REALLY dirty&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go strawberry picking&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;make LOTS of strawberry and raspberry jam&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to summer camp&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;learn to swim (Trevor!!!!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;practice reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;spend the night at Grandma's&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to the zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;watch at least two sets of fireworks, and set off some of our own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;participate in t-ball league (T &amp;amp; B)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;learn about dinosaurs at the library (and show off our knowledge - good job Blake!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;attend Zoo camp and be a "Junior Zookeeper" for the day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to the pediatrician and not get shots (Trevor! Izzy still had to get shots!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;survive a week with Mommy gone on vacation (they survived, but there are scars!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to the movies&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to Great America&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to the farmer's market&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go to the 'skyscrapers' (what the boys call going downtown) to various museums&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;go fishing with Grandpa&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;make home-made ice cream&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Whew!!  Part of me wants to find pictures for lots of those items to put up here, but if I do that this post will never go up.  So for the moment, I'm posting this sans pictures.  Maybe once school starts again I will get better about blogging more regularly.  But I'm not promising!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1022207221762201656?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1022207221762201656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1022207221762201656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1022207221762201656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1022207221762201656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/08/bucket-list.html' title='Bucket List'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5519167787800958544</id><published>2010-08-06T14:54:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T15:27:32.472-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Trevor's 6th Birthday (a month late!)</title><content type='html'>So we celebrated on time, have no fear, but it's taken me until now to post the pictures and story!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The actual day started with breakfast of Trev's choice, Swedish pancakes made by Daddy, and then tball practice followed by lunch at Culvers!  Then we headed home to be there in time for guests and the party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always Trev ends up with a backyard pool party, but the kids always seem to have a good time.  We ended up with about 10 other kids here in addition to our 3, and while less than many of our regular coffee playdates, it was still plenty of kids and plenty of fun!!  But we did miss those friends who couldn't join us!  I think all the kids had a great time in the pool and sprinklers, and playing with the water guns and balloons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spraying each other with the sprinkler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtKnR3KtI/AAAAAAAABzc/qcpcq6ruMgw/s1600/DSC03249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtKnR3KtI/AAAAAAAABzc/qcpcq6ruMgw/s320/DSC03249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502392873849924306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;everyone in the pool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtKPaZ41I/AAAAAAAABzU/rCuzBVJa_nY/s1600/DSC03242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtKPaZ41I/AAAAAAAABzU/rCuzBVJa_nY/s320/DSC03242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502392867443303250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;it's time to slip n slide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtJbEmInI/AAAAAAAABzM/9uImi_49m1E/s1600/DSC03238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtJbEmInI/AAAAAAAABzM/9uImi_49m1E/s320/DSC03238.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502392853393187442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for water balloons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxundT64tI/AAAAAAAABzk/zlyzJh0gwV8/s1600/DSC03265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxundT64tI/AAAAAAAABzk/zlyzJh0gwV8/s320/DSC03265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502394468902036178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;everybody run, water balloon fight!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxunwZpa-I/AAAAAAAABzs/Kc3wwGuV8ro/s1600/DSC03269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxunwZpa-I/AAAAAAAABzs/Kc3wwGuV8ro/s320/DSC03269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502394474026331106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Izzy slept thru some of the festivities, but that was just fine with her as she wanted NOTHING to do with the pool or sprinkler!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxuoSLYCVI/AAAAAAAABz0/gKDpk3M2A-4/s1600/DSC03287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxuoSLYCVI/AAAAAAAABz0/gKDpk3M2A-4/s320/DSC03287.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502394483093277010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The birthday theme this year was Space as Trev has become very interested in all things space and all 9 planets. He still considers Pluto a planet and is very offended if you dare to say there are only 8!! So Daddy made a space cake, and we had some space decorations as well as themed goody bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the space table cloth that the boys painted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxsiIIBabI/AAAAAAAABy0/AYN8CPehaLc/s1600/DSC03064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxsiIIBabI/AAAAAAAABy0/AYN8CPehaLc/s320/DSC03064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502392178292386226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saturn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxsjJIRrmI/AAAAAAAABzE/8gNE6Y7wwMI/s1600/DSC03235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxsjJIRrmI/AAAAAAAABzE/8gNE6Y7wwMI/s320/DSC03235.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502392195741757026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Neptune&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxsik_aNtI/AAAAAAAABy8/GOhzCsb5SyE/s1600/DSC03234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxsik_aNtI/AAAAAAAABy8/GOhzCsb5SyE/s320/DSC03234.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502392186040891090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T's cake with the WHOLE milky way on it, including a few extra details (click the picture to see it bigger).  This is by far one of my favorite cakes of all the ones Daddy has made so far.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxvPh75IcI/AAAAAAAABz8/HQvWfN-j_8I/s1600/DSC03291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxvPh75IcI/AAAAAAAABz8/HQvWfN-j_8I/s320/DSC03291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502395157338202562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone enjoying the yummy beautiful cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxvQoSSeZI/AAAAAAAAB0M/-Cw0bqyUSfU/s1600/DSC03296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxvQoSSeZI/AAAAAAAAB0M/-Cw0bqyUSfU/s320/DSC03296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502395176222620050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the evening, Grandma, Kate and Scary joined us for present opening and more cake.  Trev was thrilled with all his presents, and the fact that most of them were Lego related!!  He's easy to please in that respect these days!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's present time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxv5_efqHI/AAAAAAAAB0c/G0RgwyS2-hg/s1600/DSC03313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxv5_efqHI/AAAAAAAAB0c/G0RgwyS2-hg/s320/DSC03313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502395886822467698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the fish pillow he's been wanting for MONTHS (and it's almost as  big as him!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxv6fJVOKI/AAAAAAAAB0k/cbbUl_33kpM/s1600/DSC03341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxv6fJVOKI/AAAAAAAAB0k/cbbUl_33kpM/s320/DSC03341.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502395895323637922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5519167787800958544?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5519167787800958544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5519167787800958544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5519167787800958544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5519167787800958544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/08/trevors-6th-birthday-month-late.html' title='Trevor&apos;s 6th Birthday (a month late!)'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFxtKnR3KtI/AAAAAAAABzc/qcpcq6ruMgw/s72-c/DSC03249.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-6115717876499800788</id><published>2010-07-29T14:22:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T20:00:34.204-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tball'/><title type='text'>T-ball</title><content type='html'>Many  times in the past, we have asked the boys if they want to participate  in various sports: swimming, soccer, t-ball.  Initially, Blake has  resisted them all.  He now willingly takes swim lessons, but only if  he's with Trevor.  He's declined many chances to play soccer and t-ball,  and prefers sitting on the sidelines watching.  Once he said he'd play  soccer and we  signed him up, only to have him refuse on the first day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again,  this spring we asked if he wanted to play t-ball, and this time he said  yes.  I was cautiously hopeful since the t-ball was for 4-6 year-olds,  so both boys would be playing together.  Not so gently, I reminded and  'encouraged' B that he was going to play t-ball and that if he did, we  could go to Culver's for lunch after.  After 4.5 years of parenting this  kid, I've learned how to motivate him!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 1 of t-ball was in mid- June, while we were camping.  Oh well.... It wasn't very expensive to  sign them up, so I wasn't too upset we were missing one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 2  of t-ball was canceled due to standing water on the playing field!   Yes, we had a good amount of rain in mid-June but I was sad that this  was the case.  So we had our own t-ball practice in the backyard, and I  think the boys had a good time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T batting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX4XY6czI/AAAAAAAABxI/82C-H4VR2KE/s1600/DSC02893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX4XY6czI/AAAAAAAABxI/82C-H4VR2KE/s320/DSC02893.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499413983347241778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T throwing to B, who might catch it, if he takes his glove off his head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX3xoToOI/AAAAAAAABxA/zRCbuMHS2NI/s1600/DSC02891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX3xoToOI/AAAAAAAABxA/zRCbuMHS2NI/s320/DSC02891.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499413973211259106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The boys trying to catch the balls Daddy was hitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX3Xy4tyI/AAAAAAAABw4/msYcwSxYhH4/s1600/DSC02890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX3Xy4tyI/AAAAAAAABw4/msYcwSxYhH4/s320/DSC02890.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499413966276310818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Daddy hitting balls to the boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX27HaRZI/AAAAAAAABww/7RRMVeDtv5Y/s1600/DSC02886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX27HaRZI/AAAAAAAABww/7RRMVeDtv5Y/s320/DSC02886.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499413958577767826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they had a week off for 4th of July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 3 of t-ball was on Trevor's birthday.  They were excited to go play, and they both ran on to the field with out an argument!  They got put on teams, and got to pick their own numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B trying to beat the throw to first&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHdnJYj4nI/AAAAAAAABxg/ty1-AGUbmJ0/s1600/DSC03157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHdnJYj4nI/AAAAAAAABxg/ty1-AGUbmJ0/s320/DSC03157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499420284599657074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;B getting the ball to throw out the runner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHdmWLddQI/AAAAAAAABxY/hlae6e-u960/s1600/DSC03155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHdmWLddQI/AAAAAAAABxY/hlae6e-u960/s320/DSC03155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499420270854501634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T running past the kid in front of him.  He always HAS to be in front!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHdl63M0RI/AAAAAAAABxQ/w_TPwwpDiQI/s1600/DSC03148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHdl63M0RI/AAAAAAAABxQ/w_TPwwpDiQI/s320/DSC03148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499420263521767698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T taking a swing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFISxtuILRI/AAAAAAAABxw/B2KAd23S708/s1600/DSC03172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFISxtuILRI/AAAAAAAABxw/B2KAd23S708/s320/DSC03172.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499478740268756242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;B getting ready to bat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFISxArOtTI/AAAAAAAABxo/klld5hqD-N0/s1600/DSC03166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFISxArOtTI/AAAAAAAABxo/klld5hqD-N0/s320/DSC03166.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499478728177005874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 4 was similar to week 3.  They worked on more skills and fundamentals.  I am pretty impressed by the organization running this program.  There are a good number of 'coaches' for the number of kids playing, they focus on basic skills and really reinforce them (good throwing stance, running the bases, how to hold the bat, etc.) and yet they do it in a really fun way so the kids are having a good time and don't realize how much they are learning and how hard they are working.  I think it was money well spent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B (blue hat) and T (red hat) playing the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIe9F620fI/AAAAAAAABx4/MZt-tpBspxc/s1600/DSC03186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIe9F620fI/AAAAAAAABx4/MZt-tpBspxc/s320/DSC03186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499492129882690034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiZOZPoZI/AAAAAAAAByY/HyC9BVnn7IA/s1600/DSC03225.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T playing 1st and hoping someone will throw him the ball so he can get someone out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiY6DVZ2I/AAAAAAAAByQ/NqWTeZL8GsE/s1600/DSC03215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiY6DVZ2I/AAAAAAAAByQ/NqWTeZL8GsE/s320/DSC03215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499495906268243810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;B taking off for first after hitting the ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiYNJiemI/AAAAAAAAByI/03PlZMt8Ar0/s1600/DSC03204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiYNJiemI/AAAAAAAAByI/03PlZMt8Ar0/s320/DSC03204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499495894214670946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Week 5 was rained out while I was on vacation.  Lucky Daddy didn't have to deal with taking them on his own while I was out of town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead of t-ball finishing up this weekend, we've got 3 more weeks to go.  I guess it's not a bad thing since we don't have vacation plans, but it's not exactly how I planned it!  I just hope August isn't burning hot!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE the jersey numbers they picked.  I will always remember how old they  were for this season of t-ball!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiZOZPoZI/AAAAAAAAByY/HyC9BVnn7IA/s1600/DSC03225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFIiZOZPoZI/AAAAAAAAByY/HyC9BVnn7IA/s320/DSC03225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499495911728849298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script&gt;document.write(unescape("%3Cstyle%20type%3D%22text/css%22%3E%0Abody%20%7B  background-image  %3A%20url%28%22http%3A//thecutestblogontheblock.com/backgrounds/aFlipFlopFun.jpg   %22%29%3B%20background-position%3A%20center%3B%20background-repeat%3A%20no-repeat%3B%20  background-attachment  %3A%20fixed%3B%20%7D%0A%3C/style%3E%0A%3Cdiv%20id%3D%22tag%22%20  style%3D%22position%3Aabsolute  %3B%20left%3A0px%3B%20top%3A30px%3B%20z-index%3A50%3B%20  width%3A150px%3B%20height%3A45px%3B%22%3E%0A%3Ca%20href%3D%22  http%3A//www.thecutestblogontheblock.com%22%20target%3D%22_blank%22%3E%0A%3Cimg%20src   %3D%22http%3A//www.thecutestblogontheblock.com/images/tag.png%22%20border%3D%220%22/   %3E%0A%3C/a%3E%3C/div%3E%20"));&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-6115717876499800788?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/6115717876499800788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=6115717876499800788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6115717876499800788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6115717876499800788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/07/tball.html' title='T-ball'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TFHX4XY6czI/AAAAAAAABxI/82C-H4VR2KE/s72-c/DSC02893.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-6478254709435388643</id><published>2010-07-28T20:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T20:56:13.613-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>July....</title><content type='html'>Hmmm, it seems a month (okay, closer to 5 weeks!) have passed and I have not posted a darn thing!!!  Just in case you were wondering, here's what we've been up to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Strawberry picking&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Making jam (strawberry and home-grown raspberry)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Going to the strawberry festival (we ate the most DELICIOUS chocolate covered strawberries, and came home with strawberry donuts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;T-ball for the boys&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Volleyball league for me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;2 weeks of YMCA summer camp for the boys&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Library visits, including a session about Dinosaurs, a science session, and lots of book checkout and reading&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A zoo camp one morning that gave the boys a chance to be "junior zookeepers for a day"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Trevor's 6th birthday and party&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My birthday and dinner out with my girlfriends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A birthday party for a good friend of the boys&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dr visits (well-checks) for Trev (6 year) and Izzy (15 month)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Trevor's 6 year old photos&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Summer familly birthday party for Trevor, me, Aunt Kate, and cousin Melissa&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My week long vacation to New York with my Mom&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And those are just the things that made the actual calendar on the wall.  I'm sure there were a few trips to parks, the mall, and various other places that happened on the fly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's why I haven't been blogging much lately.  I'm going to try and post some photos of all that stuff, although some of them are already on Facebook.  And I'm going to try to post about at least a few of the most important happenings here in the next week!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-6478254709435388643?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/6478254709435388643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=6478254709435388643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6478254709435388643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6478254709435388643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/07/july.html' title='July....'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-6144641261122991006</id><published>2010-06-22T12:54:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T14:12:10.528-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camping'/><title type='text'>Camping Trip</title><content type='html'>Sunday we got back from our annual 5 day camping trip.  This year we tried somewhere new, hubby's theory is that there are SO many places in this world, why would you keep going to the same ones, no matter how great they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD-1XmRNvI/AAAAAAAABu4/q5euC7Ygcug/s1600/DSC02664.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD-1XmRNvI/AAAAAAAABu4/q5euC7Ygcug/s320/DSC02664.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485664538958313202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year we headed to a state park just south of Muskegon, MI.  Not too long of a drive, and we planned the trip so we avoided rush hour (for the most part!).  We got there and got set up pretty easily, and the boys were super excited.  Izzy was content just to watch from her stroller for the moment.  We spent the next 4 days exploring, hiking, playing, swimming, and cooking over the fire!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD9scnnNiI/AAAAAAAABuw/56wRlcSTKpE/s1600/DSC02660.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD9scnnNiI/AAAAAAAABuw/56wRlcSTKpE/s320/DSC02660.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485663286175675938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD9scnnNiI/AAAAAAAABuw/56wRlcSTKpE/s1600/DSC02660.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Daddy took both boys for a hike.  When they got back the first thing Blake ran to tell me was, "Mommy, when we were hiking, we went potty in Nature!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEKSXfvOoI/AAAAAAAABwg/T9Y1J0g7PMU/s1600/DSC02718.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEKSXfvOoI/AAAAAAAABwg/T9Y1J0g7PMU/s320/DSC02718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485677131775031938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEKSxAomuI/AAAAAAAABwo/9g58vrku-6w/s1600/DSC02745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEKSxAomuI/AAAAAAAABwo/9g58vrku-6w/s320/DSC02745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485677138623896290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One afternoon, I took the boys to the beach to play.  I coated each of them with sunscreen, and they came home looking pretty good.  Me, I came home looking like a lobster!!!  Oopsies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_uJC7GcI/AAAAAAAABvY/7HK7oa_mdow/s1600/DSC02674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_uJC7GcI/AAAAAAAABvY/7HK7oa_mdow/s320/DSC02674.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485665514304510402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also took the time to walk down the stream which started right at the lake.  We followed it down and around the bend where we found lots of trees and logs that had fallen across the stream.  The boys spent a good hour crossing the trees "like animals" (on all fours) and completing "missions"!  They would say to each other, "Your mission is to cross the stream without getting wet and without the other kids getting in your way.  Do you accept this mission??"  Apparently they've watched WAY too many spy cartoons (which ones are those anyway??).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy wasn't a big fan of the dirt/sand combination that was the ground at the campsite.  She would walk and play with the toys we had and was happy most of the time.  BUT, if she fell down, she was NOT happy.  She didn't want to touch the dirt!!!  She would sit there  (or lie there on her tummy!) with her hands in the air and wait for someone to get her up.  And if you didn't come soon enough, she would scream for you!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEDbk0yH9I/AAAAAAAABvw/tjAm-ANRMrg/s1600/DSC02708.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEDbk0yH9I/AAAAAAAABvw/tjAm-ANRMrg/s320/DSC02708.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485669593390391250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys also had a great time playing with their toy dinosaurs around the campsite.  They would bury the dinosaur skeletons in the sand and then be paleontologists and "discover" them, and they would let their other dinosaurs go on field trips and eat the plants ("Well they are herbivores Mom!")!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEKRyauQeI/AAAAAAAABwY/M4LSDgyWF4g/s1600/DSC02710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEKRyauQeI/AAAAAAAABwY/M4LSDgyWF4g/s320/DSC02710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485677121821884898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day the boys and I took a hike to the Sand Dune Staircase.  207 steps up (and 207 back down!).  But it was totally worth it!!!  Even the boys agreed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEEKJctCPI/AAAAAAAABwQ/-F8uzJBNp5o/s1600/DSC02689.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEEKJctCPI/AAAAAAAABwQ/-F8uzJBNp5o/s320/DSC02689.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485670393495488754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEEJcdXRZI/AAAAAAAABwI/-EtRpdIbqsY/s1600/DSC02693.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEEJcdXRZI/AAAAAAAABwI/-EtRpdIbqsY/s320/DSC02693.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485670381418661266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view from the top:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEDcRCPGnI/AAAAAAAABv4/8peUpNHG2gk/s1600/DSC02694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEDcRCPGnI/AAAAAAAABv4/8peUpNHG2gk/s320/DSC02694.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485669605257976434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEDcyMreJI/AAAAAAAABwA/1oZtRz5RAeU/s1600/DSC02705.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCEDcyMreJI/AAAAAAAABwA/1oZtRz5RAeU/s320/DSC02705.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485669614160148626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD9scnnNiI/AAAAAAAABuw/56wRlcSTKpE/s1600/DSC02660.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lessons  learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;splitting the boys up to sleep in two different  tents is a GREAT idea!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;glow sticks are good!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;waiting to put them to bed until  it's actually dark (which is pretty late in MI) and they are exhausted  is also a GREAT idea!!!&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_sm1abFI/AAAAAAAABvQ/lMncLd3iKQM/s1600/DSC02672.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_sm1abFI/AAAAAAAABvQ/lMncLd3iKQM/s320/DSC02672.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485665487941168210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;taking  the boys away from the campsite for an hour or two in the afternoon is  the best way to get Izzy to take a nap.  Repeat this same thing when she  goes to bed at night or she will stay up playing in her pack n play  until 11:30!!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD-12fFLII/AAAAAAAABvA/cChRhuR8vlw/s1600/DSC02666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD-12fFLII/AAAAAAAABvA/cChRhuR8vlw/s320/DSC02666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485664547249663106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;dessert  is the best meal of the day, ESPECIALLY when it is cooked over the  campfire.  Marshmallows, smores, and apple pies (in the pie irons) were  huge hits and all of us had seconds and thirds!!!&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_vFvLLCI/AAAAAAAABvo/uAejxIcqX3A/s1600/DSC02684.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_vFvLLCI/AAAAAAAABvo/uAejxIcqX3A/s320/DSC02684.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485665530596240418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_ugT0D-I/AAAAAAAABvg/Ml5Zmy4XA9M/s1600/DSC02680.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;the  boys loved all the classes for kids that the DNRE offered.  They  learned about turtles, ladybugs, and mammals.  They know what:  crepuscular, diurnal, and nocturnal mean and which animals are which.   Do you???&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD_ugT0D-I/AAAAAAAABvg/Ml5Zmy4XA9M/s1600/DSC02680.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a great trip.  The boys spent the car ride home asking when we would go camping again.  I'd love to go again this summer, but I don't think Daddy's work schedule will allow it =(.  We'll definitely fit one in next summer.....somewhere new of course!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-6144641261122991006?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/6144641261122991006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=6144641261122991006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6144641261122991006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6144641261122991006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/06/camping-trip.html' title='Camping Trip'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TCD-1XmRNvI/AAAAAAAABu4/q5euC7Ygcug/s72-c/DSC02664.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8368175718002684682</id><published>2010-06-15T22:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T23:05:12.877-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Isabelle - 14 months!</title><content type='html'>It's been a while, so if nothing else, I should at least do an Izzy  update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 14 months she:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;can crawl up the stairs, and back down, as long as you turn her around and make her start going down.  Otherwise, she'll just stand at the top and scream until you pick her up!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;will answer a yes/no question such as "do you want lunch".  if she doesn't, she'll shake her head no, if she does, she'll run to the fridge!  Once in her high chair, yes answers are given by convulsive shaking of the entire body and crazy leg kicks until she gets what you offered, such as a nutrigrain bar!!  If she doesn't want it, she'll shake that head no until it almost falls off!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNEZb26RI/AAAAAAAABug/hxUWfTqI6cg/s1600/DSC02041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNEZb26RI/AAAAAAAABug/hxUWfTqI6cg/s320/DSC02041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483217284266125586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;has started returning the love to her brothers!  They will group hug/tackle her and now she fights to get loose, and then 'hugs' them back, which really means she  pushes them down and falls on top of them!!!  It's too cute and too funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;has 3 front teeth, the 4th one coming in, and has 2 molars halfway in!!  She does NOT like eating while the teeth are pushing thru, but she makes up for it as soon as they are in!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNDdU-VdI/AAAAAAAABuQ/blAXkt6TUb8/s1600/DSC01947.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNDdU-VdI/AAAAAAAABuQ/blAXkt6TUb8/s320/DSC01947.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483217268131124690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;feels that a 5-minute "power nap" is plenty during the day and if she gets one, good luck getting her to nap again for at least 2 hours!!  But she does sleep 12 solid hours at night, so I'm trying to be thankful for what I do have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;can say "Dada" "Baby" and "Mama".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhND__iwKI/AAAAAAAABuY/bedrEO_2Kho/s1600/DSC01959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhND__iwKI/AAAAAAAABuY/bedrEO_2Kho/s320/DSC01959.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483217277436477602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;has a favorite TV show "Eebee" and if you say it to her, she'll walk  over to the TV and watch it.  She dances along with the songs and is way  too cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;waves goodbye and/or goodnight when prompted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNC0mpsQI/AAAAAAAABuI/r_sHSlYBpAI/s1600/DSC01741.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNC0mpsQI/AAAAAAAABuI/r_sHSlYBpAI/s320/DSC01741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483217257199415554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;FINALLY has enough hair for two pigtails!  TOO CUTE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNEsJUb-I/AAAAAAAABuo/GevQb4iXt9M/s1600/DSC02177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNEsJUb-I/AAAAAAAABuo/GevQb4iXt9M/s320/DSC02177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483217289288642530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8368175718002684682?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8368175718002684682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8368175718002684682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8368175718002684682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8368175718002684682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/06/isabelle-14-months.html' title='Isabelle - 14 months!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TBhNEZb26RI/AAAAAAAABug/hxUWfTqI6cg/s72-c/DSC02041.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7649369693722900612</id><published>2010-06-07T15:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T16:04:38.869-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>In case you doubted me...</title><content type='html'>Here's the video proof she can open the gate...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-de429dce40a72f9b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dde429dce40a72f9b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2A8FA91C736687398A3DCF4D16F400E802B57FB1.8173CDE5CD0FB7B1798B102F21102060FEE7FAA7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dde429dce40a72f9b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9LRXIAs19ddejpJwiA8YjGSMbQw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dde429dce40a72f9b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2A8FA91C736687398A3DCF4D16F400E802B57FB1.8173CDE5CD0FB7B1798B102F21102060FEE7FAA7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dde429dce40a72f9b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9LRXIAs19ddejpJwiA8YjGSMbQw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7649369693722900612?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7649369693722900612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7649369693722900612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7649369693722900612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7649369693722900612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-case-you-doubted-me.html' title='In case you doubted me...'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-4117471128298730663</id><published>2010-06-01T23:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T00:02:37.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>To Do...</title><content type='html'>Why does sleep elude me at 11:54 pm, but at 2:54 pm I was dozing on the couch as my 3 children caused havoc in my house?!?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put my head on the pillow about an hour ago.  In the three hours prior to that, and since the kids had been put to bed, I attempted to accomplish a lot of stuff.  Somewhere in my brain is the belief that if I accomplish a ton of stuff during the evenings, then maybe I won't feel the need to try to get so much done during the day and instead I can just be the fun mommy who plays all the time. But in reality, I just seem to find more that I should be doing during the day.... the list never ends!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My current projects include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;weeding the garden and spreading the last bit of mulch that just got dumped there about 2 weeks ago&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;sorting out the 30 boxes of left over STUFF in my garage after my less than successful garage sale&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;completing about 8 forms for each of the boys to attend summer camp and tracking down all the required information about medical history etc....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;getting the ball rolling on packing for our camping trip, which means digging all the stuff out of storage, seeing what needs batteries, what needs replacing, and figuring out all the menus etc.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I swear I thought of more while I was "trying" to sleep.  Of course, there's a bunch of other stuff flying through my head, like: remembering the items I need to buy for the potluck dinner we're going to this weekend, figuring out which kids are going where this weekend so I can move car seats, the destruction of the bathroom we just refinished AGAIN because the sink pipe was leaking and the toilet wasn't seating properly on the pipe (EWWW!).  ANd my head just keeps on going....  ANd next to me, lies a snoring husband completely oblivious to all my thinking, stressing, planning, and obsessing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is, now that I've gotten all this out of my head and written down somewhere safely, will I be able to go to sleep???  Or will I just think of 10 more things that I need to do/remember!!!?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-4117471128298730663?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/4117471128298730663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=4117471128298730663' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4117471128298730663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4117471128298730663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/06/to-do.html' title='To Do...'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-6295863821059821640</id><published>2010-05-28T23:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T23:06:21.055-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Baby Gates are useless...</title><content type='html'>My 13 month old has mastered opening the baby gate.... see for yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3b828b683dc5a0eb" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b828b683dc5a0eb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D575EDD86A129799B9F1A049513C6EAF9D55842BE.24E925D6C4CCF15A6D516423A622D254E07294CF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b828b683dc5a0eb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DK4r0YI6CRB6q6vfldIdH2lg1eaY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b828b683dc5a0eb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D575EDD86A129799B9F1A049513C6EAF9D55842BE.24E925D6C4CCF15A6D516423A622D254E07294CF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b828b683dc5a0eb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DK4r0YI6CRB6q6vfldIdH2lg1eaY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't fully open it in this time (she's camera shy!) but other  times, she's opened it, pushed it out of her way, and walked thru.  The  kicker... she pushes it shut behind her!!!  I guess she's been watching  the boys open it, cause neither of them did this!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time to shop for a new gate!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-6295863821059821640?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/6295863821059821640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=6295863821059821640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6295863821059821640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6295863821059821640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/05/baby-gates-are-useless.html' title='Baby Gates are useless...'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2484692962450276129</id><published>2010-05-28T16:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T22:46:16.232-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>The last day of school</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was the last day of school....technically.  But really, I'm not sure how it counted.  They were there for an hour, and they were outside the whole time.  I'm not sure why they bothered!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, it was really bizarre in my opinion.  Wednesday was supposed to be the last day, but we did have one snow day back in February.  So they extended the year, by one hour???  On top of that, they sent home a note on Monday that the one hour of school would start at 8:30.  The regular school day starts at 8:40.  So the kids all had to be at the bus stop 10 minutes early.  WHY????  Really, why couldn't they do their 1 hour from 8:40 to 9:40??  Why mess up the teachers, bus drivers, parents, kids, and who knows who else, for 10 minutes!!!    I thought it might have something to do with the middle- and high-school kids since they use the same buses and drivers.  But nope, they didn't even have school (even though I'm SURE they had the snow day just like the elementary!!!) So bizarre!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....  Trevor had a great time in Kindergarten.  He came home with his final report card on Tuesday.  It was full of "S" grades, for Satisfactory, in everything, which is the highest grade you can get in Kindergarten.    He's learned to read, doing 1st grade math, writing sentences, and lots of other things.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMxlbzNEI/AAAAAAAABtw/FXtiWoaSyQ8/s1600/DSC02252.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He even managed to master tying his shoes in the last two weeks!!  I had no idea that was something they were graded on and required to learn, and he hasn't had shoes with laces up til now.  We got some a few weeks ago, and he mastered tying a bow in about 3 days!!!  I was thrilled (and a little surprised), and have now decided to wait until the last minute to teach him things cause it was SOOOO much easier!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trev and our neighbor at the bus stop.  Trev's gonna be the only out there next year....=(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMxlbzNEI/AAAAAAAABtw/FXtiWoaSyQ8/s1600/DSC02252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMxlbzNEI/AAAAAAAABtw/FXtiWoaSyQ8/s320/DSC02252.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476531930372715586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr T excited to go to school one last time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMyPVi3yI/AAAAAAAABt4/JMks-VCP6qc/s1600/DSC02253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMyPVi3yI/AAAAAAAABt4/JMks-VCP6qc/s320/DSC02253.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476531941620768546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the last few weeks of school they've been studying the solar system.  This was easily a HIGHLIGHT of the year for Trev, and he kept telling me lots of facts (and 'correcting' his teacher on things she didn't know!!).  He came home last Friday in his Space Gear...his helmet, hand-painted t-shirt (I got to go in and help with this one!), and his Jr Astronaut badge!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMxNNwgWI/AAAAAAAABto/T1gc8I1mKyA/s1600/DSC02131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMxNNwgWI/AAAAAAAABto/T1gc8I1mKyA/s320/DSC02131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476531923871367522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now he's a first grader!!!  WOW!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2484692962450276129?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2484692962450276129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2484692962450276129' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2484692962450276129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2484692962450276129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/05/last-day-of-school.html' title='The last day of school'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/TACMxlbzNEI/AAAAAAAABtw/FXtiWoaSyQ8/s72-c/DSC02252.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-4990165841833685488</id><published>2010-05-18T20:39:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T21:11:58.564-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>My Shy Boy</title><content type='html'>Today was Blake's last day of 3-year-old preschool.  Instead of a  regular day of school, they had a special program for the parents (and  grandparents) to celebrate the end of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The program was  cute with a variety of songs.  Of course, my shy child didn't do a lot of singing. In fact he only sang his two 'favorite' songs.... "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" and "3 Little Ducks".  The rest of the time, he sat there, with a blank look on his face, or pulling his arms inside his t-shirt, or putting his fingers in his ears to block out the 'noise' of the other kids singing!!!  Yup, that's my kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDTmgtxUI/AAAAAAAABso/RsNtIMOHit4/s1600/DSC02117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDTmgtxUI/AAAAAAAABso/RsNtIMOHit4/s320/DSC02117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472791976219624770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and while everyone else's kids were dressed up nice (some fancier than others), my son decided to wear a classic Aunt Kate shirt...she the pic's below!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDTFrQWTI/AAAAAAAABsg/N2NxxuaqVJs/s1600/DSC02114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDTFrQWTI/AAAAAAAABsg/N2NxxuaqVJs/s320/DSC02114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472791967405463858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, he finished this year of preschool and he did a great job!!  He's learned so much!  He knows all his letters, he can spell and write his name on his own, he can cut well, and he learned all those nifty important classroom rules like raising your hand, taking turns, sharing, and being polite!!  So, at least he got the important stuff figured out!!!&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After the fact, he shyly gave his favorite teachers hugs before we left, but of course, refused to pose for pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDUIHxwtI/AAAAAAAABsw/bHC7dcik8iE/s1600/DSC02120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDUIHxwtI/AAAAAAAABsw/bHC7dcik8iE/s320/DSC02120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472791985241834194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eventually, later at home, I got him to pose for a quick picture wearing the paper hats they made for the occasion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDTFrQWTI/AAAAAAAABsg/N2NxxuaqVJs/s1600/DSC02114.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NIvsxvMMI/AAAAAAAABtA/sMVx3u4Lg7I/s1600/DSC02123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NIvsxvMMI/AAAAAAAABtA/sMVx3u4Lg7I/s320/DSC02123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472797956496109762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best parts of the program was being given the "Memory Book" after the fact.  The teachers put together a great book to summarize the year.  It's a combination of projects he completed during the year, information the teachers gathered (what do you want to be when you grow up, what's your favorite toy, who's your best friend) and tons of photos the teachers took during the year.  It's an absolutely AWESOME way to remember this year, all the things he learned, and all the kids that were part of his class!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-4990165841833685488?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/4990165841833685488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=4990165841833685488' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4990165841833685488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4990165841833685488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-shy-boy.html' title='My Shy Boy'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S_NDTmgtxUI/AAAAAAAABso/RsNtIMOHit4/s72-c/DSC02117.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-4464495133886115715</id><published>2010-05-07T10:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T11:07:15.247-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She used to HATE the bath...</title><content type='html'>I barely remember that Izzy used to hate the bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's last night fun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c0398c8805dfca94" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc0398c8805dfca94%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4CA78872DF26E6A3B456A1ED0AE89DBFA7B0E2B5.1E83091F0DA9B1387ED71ADFFFBC83850CB87BDD%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc0398c8805dfca94%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D42bRnRqPMVkoWAlG2oCndJOOqK0&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc0398c8805dfca94%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915768%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4CA78872DF26E6A3B456A1ED0AE89DBFA7B0E2B5.1E83091F0DA9B1387ED71ADFFFBC83850CB87BDD%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc0398c8805dfca94%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D42bRnRqPMVkoWAlG2oCndJOOqK0&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-4464495133886115715?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/4464495133886115715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=4464495133886115715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4464495133886115715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4464495133886115715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/05/she-used-to-hate-bath.html' title='She used to HATE the bath...'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7356306385373623586</id><published>2010-04-27T23:36:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T23:54:09.736-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='behavior'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Friends &amp; Kids</title><content type='html'>I sometimes wonder if life would be easier without friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, there are TONS of good reasons to have them and I adore mine.  But sometimes there's that peer pressure thing that happens.  (I can't believe I'm practically 35 and still dealing with peer pressure.)  You know, you go to the mall cause they are, you go out to dinner cause they are, you buy clothes cause they are.  Fill in the blank....there's a bunch of things we do, sometimes more than others, becuase our friends are doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's trip to the mall, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; unnecessary.  I didn't NEED anything, I didn't need to go, but why not?  What would it hurt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would it hurt...Well, let's see....  it interrupted my daughter's nap; it got my children home and in bed and hour late (1.5 hours for the baby); it stopped me from working on the garden which I need/want to get done; it caused me to spend money I didn't need to spend; it let me 'ignore' my children's not-so-stellar behavior as they goofed off; and it stopped them from spending any time with Daddy today since we were gone for the few hours he's home each night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I'm understand kids are going to "be kids" (loud, rude, crazy, etc), but sometimes we ask a lot of them.  We ask them to be quiet in stores, and not to run, and to sit still in the restaurant.  And this is after they had to be quiet and not run and sit still in school and during lunch and while doing their homework and in the car.  Whew!!  That's a lot of not being a kid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, kids need to learn to use manners and sit still and to act appropriately in public.  But they can only handle so much of this before they need to let off steam and play!!  They know this, and I know this.  But apparently, sometimes I forget!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, the entire time I'm at the mall, I'm dealing with "can I buy this Mommy" from one or both of the boys (in time Iz will do it too!).  Which is not my favorite, and puts me in a cranky mood! They want so many things.  And I'm not one to give in-almost ever.  We talk about planning what to buy, and things being on sale, and using our money wisely so we can save for what we really want.  But then I go and buy myself a Grande Carmel Frappucino that costs $4.67.....hmmm, what was that about saving again??  We've tried various strategies to help with the gimmies/buying/wanting that all kids go through, and we're still learning how to handle it (me as much as them!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, when I DON'T go to the mall with my friends (or coffee shop, or other less-than-child-friendly place) I hear lots of funny stories afterwards, and hear lots of 'inside' jokes.  And it makes me sad/jealous that I wasn't there.  It probably hits a nerve of being less-than-popular in high school.  So I think to myself, "I should go with them next time and have fun".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I go with them....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then when I get home I feel bad for denying my children the chance to ride their bikes and play in the sun and have my full attention (would they have gotten it tho?? or would I have been weeding?).  I think it's that last one that really bugs me.  Why is it impossible to be out with my friends and pay attention to my kids.  The biggest reason might be the 'empty threats' of "we're going to go home if you keep acting like that".  But then we don't cause I don't want to leave while I'm hanging out with MY friends.  And of course, the irony is, when we are together we WANT them to behave so that we can have a good time and so that they can have a good time.  But I make it impossible for them to do that becuase I don't pay much attention to them cause I'm too busy having a good time with my friends!!!  So they have to act up to get my attention.  After all, negative attention is better than no attention at all, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a conundrum!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7356306385373623586?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7356306385373623586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7356306385373623586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7356306385373623586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7356306385373623586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/friends-kids.html' title='Friends &amp; Kids'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8665006480012274062</id><published>2010-04-22T20:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T22:50:59.700-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>TYCTWD</title><content type='html'>There are tons of acronyms out there....do you know what the one above stands for??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take Your Child To Work Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the other 'holiday' celebrated today, besides Earth Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember this holiday from my childhood.  That's easily explained... it started in 1993 (according to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Take_Your_Daughter_To_Work_Day"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;), the year I graduated high school.  So, I never got taken to work with either of my parents.  At least not on this official date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did go to work with my dad quite a bit during the summer or weekends.  He was a university professor, and had lots of flexibility with his job I guess.  As long as he taught his classes and did his research, I don't think it mattered if I was there.  I recall both his office and his lab (where he did the aforementioned research) on campus. I also remember him bringing work home and doing it in the evenings after dinner.  I remember walking down to the secretary's office and that they knew my name.  I remember having lunch out at the picnic table with him and his fellow professors (I knew them all by last name, and it took me years to understand why they referred to each other that way!).  I remember him playing his classical music as he wrote on his yellow lined legal pads and talked to me about lemna and all kinds of other thrilling things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember my mother's office well too. In my early elementary years, she worked full-time 20 miles from our house and was gone long hours.  I vagely recall visiting that office once or twice.  By the time I reached middle school, her office was the downstairs 'bedroom' in our house.  She worked from home as an independent contractor long before that was the fashionable thing to do!  I do remember going with her to drop off projects that she had completed at home.   She worked late into the night, and on weekends, to complete the projects to fit them in around other activities that were going on.  I can still picture the wall full of technical dictionaries that help her do her job (mostly because the wall is still there and full of them!).  I am still amazed by the mere fact that my mother speaks/reads/understands (at various levels) seven different languages!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do recall TYCTWD from about 5-8 years ago, when I was working in Human Resources.  Part of my job was to coordinate activities for the children who would be coming to work with their parents.  You know, fun activities that would keep children interested and entertained, while their parents worked.  So what was the point in bringing your child to work with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I reminiscing about this?  Since &lt;a href="http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/21/why-take-our-children-to-work/"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; brought the subject to my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While there are lots of valid points in both the article and the comments, there are also, of course, a few shallow, poorly communicated comments too.  In particular this one,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Kids don't need to be taught to run a household. I'm sorry, but it's not  rocket science.  It's something that everyone, unless they can afford  multiple maids and a personal assistant, has to learn to do sooner or  later. So why do they need to do it at age 8? Let them be kids.  My  parents let me be a kid and didn't "teach" me how to cook, do laundry,  or clean the stove, but I learned by watching them, and I can run a  household just fine, working outside the home or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my mind,  "difficult" is something that only a few people can do well.  LOTS of  people are good parents, and lots more run a household well, so how  "difficult" can it be? I don't want my daughter growing up to think life  is difficult."&lt;/blockquote&gt;WOW!  There are so many issues to hit in this one small comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's something everyone has to learn to do sooner or later.  I wasn't instantly good at budgeting (talk about a lot of credit card debt right out of college), but it's an important skill to have running a household.  What about finding a decent/reliable/honest/trustworthy contractor if you want to have renovations/remodeling done.  Lots of people hire contractors only to get "taken to the cleaners" by them!   Don't believe me, trying watching "Holmes on Homes" on HGTV.   Maybe it's worth helping your children learn how to find a reputable service provider.  Or, helping them learn how to mow the lawn, fix the clogged toilet, or vacuum the carpet so they don't have to hire someone to do it, but can handle (at least the basic) responsibilities of home-ownership themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's all about the word "teach".  Both my boys are learning to  cook and do laundry, and a number of other things!  At an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;age appropriate level&lt;/span&gt;.  Right now that means  helping me measure items for a recipe for dinner, loading the dishwasher, or helping carry down the  laundry basket and load the machine.  They don't know how to do that  without some input, supervision, and direction from me.  I would call  that "teaching".  As part of our family, they have a duty to contribute to our family and to help us have a functional household.  Let me tell you, if I'm the only one doing laundry, dishes, and cooking we DO NOT have a functional house.....cause I get CRANKY!!!  My kids get plenty of chances to "be kids" to play and have fun and dream and imagine.  But they also have a right and a responsibility to be a contributing useful member of our family, so they can grow up to do the same for our society!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the most offensive part of the comment &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;to me&lt;/span&gt; is that "LOTS of  people are good parents".  Really?  I guess it's all in how you define good. Maybe it's just how flippant this comment sounds.  As if it's SO easy to  be a good parent....duh!  I'm not trying to insult the MANY good parents that are out there.  But at the same time, there are many who could use some amount of help, some more than others.  Many parents recognize that and they read parenting books, go to seminars, talk with experts, or just talk to other parents.  We seek out information, we seek to be "taught" to be the best we can be.  I've done all of the above to help myself be a better parent because my kids are worth it!  And is "good" really good enough?  No matter how good a parent you are, can't you always strive to do  better?     I want to be the best parent I can  be!  I worry that if we assume our kids will be good parents, because it's "easy", that they won't realize what a challenge it is to do well, and that it's okay to ask for help if you don't know how to do it (parenting, or anything else).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a former teacher it frustrated me to no end that I had 4 years of college education, but got little respect from some of the parents at the school I was at because I wasn't a parent.  Pardon me, but the last time I checked I had a 4-year degree, and all it took to be a parent was a little action in the backseat of a Chevy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If  LOTS of people are good parents, there wouldn't be nearly the number of foster children that there are in the US.  According to the &lt;a href="http://www.childwelfare.gov/"&gt;Child Welfare Information Gateway&lt;/a&gt;, "On September 30, 2006, there were an estimated 510,000 children in  foster care. "    According to &lt;a href="http://www.childhelp.org/pages/statistics"&gt;ChildHelp&lt;/a&gt;, "In 2007, approximately 5.8 million children were involved in an  estimated 3.2 million child abuse reports and allegations.   "  That's way too many not good parents for me!  And what about all those children that  "fall through the cracks".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my current situation, I take my children to work with me everyday.....they are my work.  (Work that is often devalued by people who work outside the home-but that's a topic for another day.)  But what the &lt;a href="http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/21/why-take-our-children-to-work/"&gt;initial article&lt;/a&gt; has brought to my attention is that today, and every other day, it is important for our children to be exposed to all the various career choices that are out there....including being a stay-at-home-parent (whether girl or BOY!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I guess 'everyone' can learn to do it, but why not help both our  sons and daughters learn to do it well!!  Oh, and by the way, life is difficult, but what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, so bring on the difficult!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8665006480012274062?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8665006480012274062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8665006480012274062' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8665006480012274062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8665006480012274062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/tyctwd.html' title='TYCTWD'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-9018447465388929646</id><published>2010-04-21T20:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T21:06:19.757-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>Good bye but not good ridance</title><content type='html'>I am a big fan, and regular watcher of Dancing with the Stars.  It's one of the few "reality" shows I will watch and will even set my DVR to catch for me.  I CAN'T miss it.  I grew up dancing (no, not ballroom) and have always enjoyed dancing (doing it, watching it, teaching it, etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When DWTS started I was hooked and have followed it ever since.  But I've had my frustrations with the show.  As a dancer, I've always wanted the show to be a DANCE competition, not a popularity contest.  I'm probably one of the few that watches the show and votes for those who I think danced well and deserve to dance the next week, regardless of WHO they are.  Frankly, I don't care who you are, I care if you can dance.  I was not a fan of Cloris Leachman nor Buzz Aldrin AS DANCERS (in their professional careers, they were good/great at what they did!).  Just because Buzz walked on the moon does not mean, to me, that he should be granted more weeks on DWTS.  Yes, he's an American hero, but he still can't dance (or not as well as the rest of the cast this season), and my voting him off (or not voting to keep him) doesn't mean that I don't think of him as an American hero!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Based on this information, can you guess who I've been hoping would get voted off each week this season?  Can you guess? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Kate Gosselin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she couldn't dance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's the ONLY reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the 'drama' around Kate (and Jon and the plus 8) really couldn't matter less to me.  I feel bad for her that she's getting divorced, that he cheated on her, and that she's now a single mom.  I feel as bad for her as I do for any other person going through those same things.  But that doesn't mean that I wanted to keep her on DWTS any longer.  Nor does the fact that I wanted her off mean I hate her, or anything else.  It means, I thought she was the least talented star on the show this season.  Someone, unfortunately, has to be that person every season.  Sorry....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-9018447465388929646?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/9018447465388929646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=9018447465388929646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/9018447465388929646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/9018447465388929646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/good-bye-but-not-good-ridance.html' title='Good bye but not good ridance'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7604406201086802662</id><published>2010-04-15T22:00:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T23:36:11.648-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Isabelle</title><content type='html'>She's 1!!  [Insert all typical cliches here about how fast time has passed  and how much I can't believe it.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she's 1, but Sunday we  had her birthday party.  Lots of fun!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trev made her a birthday crown.  It reads "Izzy is trneng [turning] 1!".  How sweet he is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUparXDoI/AAAAAAAABqw/NblNI0-wfNo/s1600/DSC01480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUparXDoI/AAAAAAAABqw/NblNI0-wfNo/s320/DSC01480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460566881210928770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For party favors, I covered chocolate bars with customized wrappers that I made on the computer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUopUrqhI/AAAAAAAABqg/670V6XGB3XA/s1600/DSC01472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUopUrqhI/AAAAAAAABqg/670V6XGB3XA/s320/DSC01472.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460566867962472978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the back side was just as cute&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUpMhDoGI/AAAAAAAABqo/xtNAABd4g5M/s1600/DSC01475.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUpMhDoGI/AAAAAAAABqo/xtNAABd4g5M/s320/DSC01475.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460566877409615970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Her birthday cake was Baby Blocks, that spelled her name (first on the front, last on the back!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUnq7kDfI/AAAAAAAABqQ/PA8rFD__bkw/s1600/DSC01466.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUnq7kDfI/AAAAAAAABqQ/PA8rFD__bkw/s320/DSC01466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460566851214118386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Daddy added decorations to the other sides so they would look like the typical alphabet blocks that kids play with.  Simple, but perfect, and matched the invitations and the rest of the decorations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUoCr_H5I/AAAAAAAABqY/_eysCmEvEag/s1600/DSC01470.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUoCr_H5I/AAAAAAAABqY/_eysCmEvEag/s320/DSC01470.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460566857591234450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the traditional way, she got her own piece of cake to 'destroy' and it was the first time she's had cake.  At first glance, she seemed happy, maybe even excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fV_G3M2FI/AAAAAAAABq4/aIz_HZcRayM/s1600/DSC01498.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fV_G3M2FI/AAAAAAAABq4/aIz_HZcRayM/s320/DSC01498.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460568353360631890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But that was it for a while.  She didn't really want to touch it or eat it or play with it or anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fWACW7YfI/AAAAAAAABrI/UNTKgVgOxu0/s1600/DSC01503.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fWACW7YfI/AAAAAAAABrI/UNTKgVgOxu0/s320/DSC01503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460568369331397106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, with a little encouragement, and a plastic fork, she started to play with it....but that was about it!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fWAwLlLiI/AAAAAAAABrQ/pYMWGtEsdfk/s1600/DSC01510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fWAwLlLiI/AAAAAAAABrQ/pYMWGtEsdfk/s320/DSC01510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460568381631835682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least everyone else enjoyed the cake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fV_qhCvbI/AAAAAAAABrA/HNhFMzqWHLk/s1600/DSC01501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fV_qhCvbI/AAAAAAAABrA/HNhFMzqWHLk/s320/DSC01501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460568362931371442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, she got into it, ate some, and decorated herself with the rest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fWBafB9nI/AAAAAAAABrY/qPLAUqU5caY/s1600/DSC01533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fWBafB9nI/AAAAAAAABrY/qPLAUqU5caY/s320/DSC01533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460568392987702898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She opened a few presents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fYoDNyteI/AAAAAAAABrg/PXaptT1s62I/s1600/DSC01552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fYoDNyteI/AAAAAAAABrg/PXaptT1s62I/s320/DSC01552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460571255779538402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fpCB6QFuI/AAAAAAAABsY/DSWP7RpfrUg/s1600/DSC01637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fpCB6QFuI/AAAAAAAABsY/DSWP7RpfrUg/s320/DSC01637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460589294291785442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Including a beautiful quilt from Kate!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fYo3RqtVI/AAAAAAAABro/kLi7xEHbRps/s1600/DSC01561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fYo3RqtVI/AAAAAAAABro/kLi7xEHbRps/s320/DSC01561.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460571269754434898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fpCB6QFuI/AAAAAAAABsY/DSWP7RpfrUg/s1600/DSC01637.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And her new milestones:&lt;br /&gt;She likes blowing raspberries....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8foxL5ni6I/AAAAAAAABsQ/b6aNhgFJMUc/s1600/DSC01618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8foxL5ni6I/AAAAAAAABsQ/b6aNhgFJMUc/s320/DSC01618.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460589004915706786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She loves her sippy cup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fowrMHiCI/AAAAAAAABsI/EBLX9JDjQBI/s1600/DSC01587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fowrMHiCI/AAAAAAAABsI/EBLX9JDjQBI/s320/DSC01587.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460588996134930466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And she FINALLY has A TOOTH!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7604406201086802662?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7604406201086802662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7604406201086802662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7604406201086802662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7604406201086802662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/happy-birthday-isabelle.html' title='Happy Birthday Isabelle'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8fUparXDoI/AAAAAAAABqw/NblNI0-wfNo/s72-c/DSC01480.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-54372765177323593</id><published>2010-04-08T23:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T23:49:32.289-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carseats'/><title type='text'>Informed Decisions</title><content type='html'>Here I am again, in the late night hours, when my head should be on the pillow.  Tonight the fault is my own, and a new blog I've been reading.  Over an hour ago, I started reading &lt;a href="http://www.phdinparenting.com/2010/04/02/knee-jerk-or-just-jerk/"&gt;this post, &lt;/a&gt;and all the comments following it....and here I am, unable to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[There are so many levels to this conversation and points that have been made that are swirling around in my brain.  I will have to come back to this point another night and go down the other paths.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Car seat safety  is important to me.  VERY important.  Quite often I contemplate saying something to a parent who I see using (what seems to me) an improper car seat, or not using one at all, or using one incorrectly.  Just today during swim class, I contemplated (for the 5th week) telling a mom that her son was too tall for his infant seat, and that the belt was no where near tight enough to restrain him in the event of a crash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I've read &lt;a href="http://www.phdinparenting.com/2010/04/02/knee-jerk-or-just-jerk/"&gt;the previously mentioned post, &lt;/a&gt;I wonder if I did the right thing by not saying anything.  First of all, I'm not known for my tact (in fact, I might be known for my lack thereof at times).    What don't I know about this parent?  Maybe they tighten up the buckle when they put the seat in the car.  Maybe they use the infant seat because they can't afford the next size seat or they are waiting for one to be donated to them.  Maybe she keeps meaning to go buy the next one but it's hard to get out to the store with two young kids.  Maybe it's just easier to use the seat to carry him in to swim lessons (and this was the last week) and now that it's over she'll move him up to the next one.  Maybe if I say something to her, she'll feel like yet another mother is judging her and she'll react with anger (or worse!).  BUT maybe she has no idea that he's not as safe as he could be and would welcome the information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that last maybe that tempts me to say something, but the one just before that scares me into silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess if you are making an INFORMED decision it's different.  For example, I didn't realize when I moved Trevor to a forward-facing seat at 15 months (and 20 pounds) that I had any other choice.  My pediatrician said I could turn him around.  So I did.  Now I know that it's safer for Izzy to stay rear-facing until she's at least 2, and 35 pounds (based on my car seat).  Likewise, I've learned that T &amp;amp; B are both MUCH safer in a 5-point harness, so that's where they will stay (no matter how UNCOOL Trevor thinks it is compared to some of his school buddies!).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT...I had to find this information out on my own.  By doing the research and reading and talking to experts (who also happens to be a friend!).  It wasn't information that was given to me at the hospital, or the pediatrician's office, or anywhere else.  It's very hard information to find if you don't know where to look.  And how are you even supposed to know to look??!??!  I mean if your pediatrician (a person with a higher education) tells you its safe to turn the car seat around, why wouldn't you believe them? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lack of information really concerns me in this area.... People are told rear-face your child until they are 1 year old; they see booster seats for children who weigh 30 pounds' so they think those are the best/only choice.  But it's not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand that it's not my right to make the decision for you, or my right to judge you for the decisions you have made (I'll try not to at least, but I'm still working on that one!).  But I want to help you make the best decision for your child and make sure you have all the information before you make that decision.  Is that wrong of me?  Is it wrong that I want to help keep a child safe because they can't make those decisions on their own??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-54372765177323593?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/54372765177323593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=54372765177323593' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/54372765177323593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/54372765177323593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/informed-decisions.html' title='Informed Decisions'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1574322258767037749</id><published>2010-04-05T21:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T22:29:50.586-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 10: Mall &amp; Park</title><content type='html'>The last day of spring break!!!  Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NS_lLUkSI/AAAAAAAABqI/CKyIIoS-uKc/s1600/DSC01390.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We started the day at the mall for a quick hair cut for the boys.  Blake got his summer crew cut!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSshYyooI/AAAAAAAABpg/_EK4mzTX7rU/s1600/DSC01379.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSshYyooI/AAAAAAAABpg/_EK4mzTX7rU/s320/DSC01379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459298098133246594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And T didn't want anything cut at all, but we agreed on a short trim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NStGgQ0DI/AAAAAAAABpo/mEbqVbFg8BY/s1600/DSC01380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NStGgQ0DI/AAAAAAAABpo/mEbqVbFg8BY/s320/DSC01380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459298108096696370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSuB0w_gI/AAAAAAAABp4/lRtRSQoSb_Q/s1600/DSC01391.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we headed to a great park not to far from the mall, for lunch and some playing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NStkq3DbI/AAAAAAAABpw/YIctW0-K01s/s1600/DSC01387.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NStkq3DbI/AAAAAAAABpw/YIctW0-K01s/s320/DSC01387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459298116194209202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSuvucQYI/AAAAAAAABqA/LMGKhgrCg1g/s1600/DSC01383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSuvucQYI/AAAAAAAABqA/LMGKhgrCg1g/s320/DSC01383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459298136341889410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NS_lLUkSI/AAAAAAAABqI/CKyIIoS-uKc/s1600/DSC01390.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NS_lLUkSI/AAAAAAAABqI/CKyIIoS-uKc/s320/DSC01390.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459298425568006434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iz isn't sure what she thinks of wood chips (or faux wood chips in this case-recycled rubber tires).  She can't walk well on them and I won't let her eat them, so she's basically not a fan of them at all!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSuB0w_gI/AAAAAAAABp4/lRtRSQoSb_Q/s1600/DSC01391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSuB0w_gI/AAAAAAAABp4/lRtRSQoSb_Q/s320/DSC01391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459298124020383234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSshYyooI/AAAAAAAABpg/_EK4mzTX7rU/s1600/DSC01379.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While I have fully enjoyed the last 10 days, there is a part of me that will truly enjoy the 2 hours tomorrow morning when both boys will be in school.  At the same time, I've enjoyed the freedom the last 10 days have given me...no rushing home to meet the bus, or rushing to get out the door to get to school on time.  Most of me is greatly looking forward to summer!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1574322258767037749?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1574322258767037749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1574322258767037749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1574322258767037749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1574322258767037749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break-day-10-mall-park.html' title='Spring Break: Day 10: Mall &amp; Park'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NSshYyooI/AAAAAAAABpg/_EK4mzTX7rU/s72-c/DSC01379.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7993277783817773294</id><published>2010-04-04T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T22:28:53.189-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='easter eggs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 8 &amp; 9 Easter</title><content type='html'>Days 8 &amp;amp; 9 of Spring Break were also Easter weekend.  We spent  the days dying eggs, hunting for eggs, and hanging out with the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decorating the eggs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ1yPRcQI/AAAAAAAABo4/kShIN0xmoAI/s1600/DSC01303.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ1W5suaI/AAAAAAAABow/LSuKA9fSz9I/s1600/DSC01298.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ1W5suaI/AAAAAAAABow/LSuKA9fSz9I/s320/DSC01298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459288354332653986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ02g9RFI/AAAAAAAABoo/BJ3gxqxZ6UI/s1600/DSC01290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ02g9RFI/AAAAAAAABoo/BJ3gxqxZ6UI/s320/DSC01290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459288345638945874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T reading his clues to find his eggs and basket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJDtDDhUI/AAAAAAAABoI/HK6nt4jgZhI/s1600/DSC01312.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJDtDDhUI/AAAAAAAABoI/HK6nt4jgZhI/s320/DSC01312.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459287501284017474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake, looking at his clues in his eggs to find his easter basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJFGiRurI/AAAAAAAABog/Ru9LNe_qNn8/s1600/DSC01327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJFGiRurI/AAAAAAAABog/Ru9LNe_qNn8/s320/DSC01327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459287525305727666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy with her easter egg and basket&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJEjIYgpI/AAAAAAAABoY/L9CDtaaa0es/s1600/DSC01322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJEjIYgpI/AAAAAAAABoY/L9CDtaaa0es/s320/DSC01322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459287515801879186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T &amp;amp; B with their easter lego's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJEXYm2OI/AAAAAAAABoQ/zRO__aNQ4KY/s1600/DSC01319.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJEXYm2OI/AAAAAAAABoQ/zRO__aNQ4KY/s320/DSC01319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459287512648702178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor's eggs, including a purple one for Izzy, a ladybug, and a Star Wars wrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NEES1O9YI/AAAAAAAABno/4pZ8MXEhijs/s1600/DSC01360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NEES1O9YI/AAAAAAAABno/4pZ8MXEhijs/s320/DSC01360.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459282013868455298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Izzy all dressed up watching her brothers play outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NED84FCrI/AAAAAAAABng/3EHyStTCy-s/s1600/DSC01351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NED84FCrI/AAAAAAAABng/3EHyStTCy-s/s320/DSC01351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459282007974808242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy's new hair bows from Aunt Kate.  Nothing says easter like hair bows with skulls!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NEEw95QiI/AAAAAAAABnw/2g1UgD3Ygmo/s1600/DSC01364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NEEw95QiI/AAAAAAAABnw/2g1UgD3Ygmo/s320/DSC01364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459282021957845538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Building with Scary Steve's Lego's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NE2V3LzgI/AAAAAAAABoA/AnM3wuqCbwM/s1600/DSC01371.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NE2V3LzgI/AAAAAAAABoA/AnM3wuqCbwM/s320/DSC01371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459282873675402754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And wrestling with Scary Steve&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NE1txjd6I/AAAAAAAABn4/HZIfP93MBTc/s1600/DSC01368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NE1txjd6I/AAAAAAAABn4/HZIfP93MBTc/s320/DSC01368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459282862914369442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one weird part of the weekend... After dying the eggs, Daddy was unsure of what to do with the egg dye.  You see in the past 3 years he's always taken the dye outside and decorated the snow with it.  But this year, NO SNOW!!!!  Yay!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ1yPRcQI/AAAAAAAABo4/kShIN0xmoAI/s1600/DSC01303.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ1yPRcQI/AAAAAAAABo4/kShIN0xmoAI/s320/DSC01303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459288361670897922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7993277783817773294?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7993277783817773294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7993277783817773294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7993277783817773294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7993277783817773294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break-end.html' title='Spring Break: Day 8 &amp; 9 Easter'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S8NJ1W5suaI/AAAAAAAABow/LSuKA9fSz9I/s72-c/DSC01298.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8789695123007973367</id><published>2010-04-02T17:07:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T14:38:55.567-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='museum'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 7: Zoo??</title><content type='html'>Today was predicted to be a BEAUTIFUL day.  In fact, the whole week of  spring break was beautiful weather-wise.  All week we took advantage of  that, and it worked great!  Because of our schedule, I decided today  would be a good day to visit the zoo.  However, I didn't take into  account that today was the first day of spring break in the state where  the zoo is located (not the one I live in) or that today was Good  Friday.... bad idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got up and out of the house early, and  headed for the zoo.  The kids were excited since they love the zoo and  friends were going to meet us there.  We got almost all the way there  with no issues, and had already heard from one friend that they were  there already.  Suddenly, a mile and a half from the entrance (and one  turn) traffic became TERRIBLE and we stopped moving.  According to my  GPS we went .3 miles in about 20 minutes.  At that rate, we would have  been sitting in the care for about 2 more hours!  No thank you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So  I bailed on the zoo, and on our friends (SORRY!), and quickly racked my  brain for alternate activities.  And so we ended up at the Children's  Museum in the city, one which we'd never been to before.  Great choice,  and it was surprisingly empty (maybe because it was inside and people  wanted to be outside enjoying the weather?).  We did eat our lunch  outside, and got some great views of the lake nearby, so I think it was a  win-win situation!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B &amp;amp; T checking out a motorcycle and all making all it's parts 'work'&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcS4LJiyI/AAAAAAAABmw/abaewM_2vys/s1600/DSC01222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcS4LJiyI/AAAAAAAABmw/abaewM_2vys/s320/DSC01222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457479065341102882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T building some train tracks, with Iz helping (i.e. destroying)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcSaSLOZI/AAAAAAAABmo/o8ohGbTS1hQ/s1600/DSC01224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcSaSLOZI/AAAAAAAABmo/o8ohGbTS1hQ/s320/DSC01224.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457479057317509522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Iz LOVED this!  It is a life-size (almost) train that the kids could get inside and push buttons and levers to hear all the typical train sounds (whistle, horn, steam, etc.).  On the side, was a crank that turned to simluate pistons moving.  Izzy loved watching them turn and the various toys pop up and down.  She eventually figured out how to turn the crank herself.  Anytime someone turned it, she would run over to the window and SCREAM at the toys!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcR3VmWPI/AAAAAAAABmg/UwORMKo6tnI/s1600/DSC01232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcR3VmWPI/AAAAAAAABmg/UwORMKo6tnI/s320/DSC01232.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457479047936628978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T &amp;amp; B playing the the 'ball area'.  It was an area where there were tons of golf balls and lots of different things to do with them, like build tracks for them to go on, or use various built tracks to see what effect it had on the ball(ski jump, rocking horse, etc).  They spent tons of time here and all 3 kids loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zbhgXv0yI/AAAAAAAABmY/BYM5gEnnoFw/s1600/DSC01235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zbhgXv0yI/AAAAAAAABmY/BYM5gEnnoFw/s320/DSC01235.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457478217137902370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Iz liked pushing the 'golf cart' that was there so you could walk around and pick up the balls from all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zbhIjuUGI/AAAAAAAABmQ/EwWz7EqJf5M/s1600/DSC01238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zbhIjuUGI/AAAAAAAABmQ/EwWz7EqJf5M/s320/DSC01238.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457478210745684066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the music area, you could actually conduct this orchestra (the baton had an IR connection I think) and they would play slower or faster depending on how  you conducted.  Very cool...especially when the song they were playing was the Star Wars Theme!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zbglDn2VI/AAAAAAAABmI/nKnfIQpFYSg/s1600/DSC01242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zbglDn2VI/AAAAAAAABmI/nKnfIQpFYSg/s320/DSC01242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457478201215801682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trev shopping at the grocery store, with Izzy's help&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdz9EaAZI/AAAAAAAABnY/GXeevY9lWy4/s1600/DSC01270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdz9EaAZI/AAAAAAAABnY/GXeevY9lWy4/s320/DSC01270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457480733102309778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake working the Deli counter at the grocery store.  Man can that kid make some great sandwiches!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdzNBzCDI/AAAAAAAABnQ/oizwga1Cs5c/s1600/DSC01269.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdzNBzCDI/AAAAAAAABnQ/oizwga1Cs5c/s320/DSC01269.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457480720206465074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Iz rocking out and playing the drums and cymbals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdyswtDgI/AAAAAAAABnI/LFhfxixBpNE/s1600/DSC01259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdyswtDgI/AAAAAAAABnI/LFhfxixBpNE/s320/DSC01259.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457480711544835586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;B working at the post office.  He spent tons of time here working the loading crane, and cranking the packages down the line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdyFrufUI/AAAAAAAABnA/RrzF2uPHdOU/s1600/DSC01251.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdyFrufUI/AAAAAAAABnA/RrzF2uPHdOU/s320/DSC01251.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457480701054975298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;T being a mechanic.  He had to change out the leaky muffler, take off old tires and put new ones on (the screw gun made pneumatic noises), put in a new air filter, add coolant and oil, and put on a new license plate.  He spent forever here and loved it!  He says he was practicing for when he grows up to be a mechanic!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdxYNpkLI/AAAAAAAABm4/3rMbG8znwoU/s1600/DSC01245.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdxYNpkLI/AAAAAAAABm4/3rMbG8znwoU/s1600/DSC01245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zdxYNpkLI/AAAAAAAABm4/3rMbG8znwoU/s320/DSC01245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457480688849227954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It may not have been what we planned, but we had a great time there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8789695123007973367?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8789695123007973367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8789695123007973367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8789695123007973367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8789695123007973367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break-day-7-zoo.html' title='Spring Break: Day 7: Zoo??'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7zcS4LJiyI/AAAAAAAABmw/abaewM_2vys/s72-c/DSC01222.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3179231629009213952</id><published>2010-04-01T21:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T11:16:39.542-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soccer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dentist'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 6: Dentist, Park &amp; Swimming</title><content type='html'>The  morning of Day 6 started with a brief interruption of our fun     festivities with a trip to the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I scheduled this    visit I was less than thrilled that it was during Spring Break, but it    seems our dentist, and kids only dentist, has certain scheduling    requirements.  Children 5 and under can only come before Noon.  Since T    gets home at 11:45 am from kindergarten, that's not going to happen on  a   school day.  When I pointed this out to the receptionist, she said    "then have him skip a day of school".  Oh yes, education isn't    important.  Dental hygiene is much more important!!  I declined the miss    school option, and scheduled for Spring Break.  Ugh!  But at least  the   appointment was early in the morning and wouldn't impact much of  our   day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The visit when great, both boys got x-rays and have NO    cavities!  They were well behaved, and got clean bills of (dental)    health!  I really like how this practice caters just to children, has    child size exam chairs, and lots of other kid friendly features.  The    kids are their usual bit skeptical to go at first (who wouldn't be-it is    the dentist) but once we are there, they love it, go back for the    cleaning on their own, and do a great job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, but when the visit    was done, the fun had only just begun.  I went to schedule their next    visits, for this fall, when Trevor will be in full day school!   Ahhh...    Trevor can't go in the morning, Blake can't go in the  afternoon, and  NO  exceptions will be made.  And they take a one-hour  lunch break, so  no  scheduling the last morning appointment and the  first afternoon  one!!!  (But that was a good thought, thanks E!).  So  I'm destined to  take two  drives there, 30 minutes each way, with Izzy  in tow both times  (and this  will be the case for the next 3  appointments-year and a half  until B is  6).  Or of course, I could  take them to a practice close to  home  without being kid friendly.   Ugh...the choices!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....complaining   over, back to Spring  Break!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We joined friends at their house,  and walked with them  to a nearby  park.  It was hot out and the boys  were wearing jeans.  So  they  complained most of the time about being  hot and no shade!  Who  knew that  would be such a problem here on the  first of April!!!  After  a long  time at the park, and lunch with  friends (thanks L!), we  headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the day with more  swimming lessons.  T has become very  comfortable in the water and really  enjoys swimming lessons.  I've been  told that he can move up to the  next level finally!!!  Blake, well he  has fun...but he's not super  comfortable putting his head/face in the  water yet, so back to the same  level next time around!  Still 1 out of 2  ain't bad!&lt;br /&gt;Practicing kicking....which means we get to splash the teacher!! &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6KAvpoNI/AAAAAAAABmA/Q9ErhXitGhs/s1600/DSC01215.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6HqZR2oI/AAAAAAAABlg/qz3e8HMk13w/s1600/DSC01202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6HqZR2oI/AAAAAAAABlg/qz3e8HMk13w/s320/DSC01202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456315589361523330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B jumping in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6IedfikI/AAAAAAAABlo/nttbUakxxxM/s1600/DSC01205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6IedfikI/AAAAAAAABlo/nttbUakxxxM/s320/DSC01205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456315603337841218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6JHRiH6I/AAAAAAAABlw/KtoWvEYKx5Q/s1600/DSC01206.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And swimming for a toy (with the teacher holding him of course)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6JYdwbnI/AAAAAAAABl4/5oJaK8zmElk/s1600/DSC01211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6JYdwbnI/AAAAAAAABl4/5oJaK8zmElk/s320/DSC01211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456315618908204658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T jumping in!  (he tries to go as high and far as possible!)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6JHRiH6I/AAAAAAAABlw/KtoWvEYKx5Q/s1600/DSC01206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6JHRiH6I/AAAAAAAABlw/KtoWvEYKx5Q/s320/DSC01206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456315614293532578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And swimming for a toy, without being held (but with a floaty on!)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6HqZR2oI/AAAAAAAABlg/qz3e8HMk13w/s1600/DSC01202.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6KAvpoNI/AAAAAAAABmA/Q9ErhXitGhs/s1600/DSC01215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6KAvpoNI/AAAAAAAABmA/Q9ErhXitGhs/s320/DSC01215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456315629720674514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3179231629009213952?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3179231629009213952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3179231629009213952' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3179231629009213952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3179231629009213952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break-day-5-teeth-park-soccer.html' title='Spring Break: Day 6: Dentist, Park &amp; Swimming'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i6HqZR2oI/AAAAAAAABlg/qz3e8HMk13w/s72-c/DSC01202.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5103856484321825234</id><published>2010-04-01T10:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T10:21:53.752-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oopsies'/><title type='text'>Oopsies!!</title><content type='html'>Spring Break has been so fun and exciting....I got our days mixed up!!!  Half of what I posted for Day 5, Wednesday actually happened Thursday!  Gotta fix that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5103856484321825234?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5103856484321825234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5103856484321825234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5103856484321825234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5103856484321825234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/oopsies.html' title='Oopsies!!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-905749009373343977</id><published>2010-03-31T10:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T11:05:21.486-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dentist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swim class'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 5: Library, Coffee, Park, Soccer &amp; Dinner</title><content type='html'>This morning actually consisted of not a dentist visit, but much more fun activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First we headed to the library, to return our old books and get some new ones. The boys love the library and have a great time finding weird books on dinosaurs, lizards, glowing sea creatures, graveyards, the Titanic, and a variety of other topics. We got our books, played a little in the play area (kitchen) and headed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we headed to a local coffee shop. This was their last day of operation, and since I go there at least once a week while B is in pre-school (and T in school too) they know me, and my mommy-friends, pretty well. We all stopped in to have some last coffee, muffins, and even home-made custard. The gals who run the place even had some easter treats and and egg hunt for all our kids! They are awesome, and we'll miss them, the great coffee, and the nice hang out spot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the coffee shop, we headed to a nearby park for more playing in the BEAUTIFUL 75 degree sun and some lunch. All the kids had a grand time playing, climbing, running, and getting sun burned! Oopsies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iz started out sitting on the blanket we put out for her and the other babies....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2gao9o_I/AAAAAAAABko/k4hmLyIN74Q/s1600/DSC01178.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2gao9o_I/AAAAAAAABko/k4hmLyIN74Q/s320/DSC01178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456311616582558706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Later she moved, to somewhere more comfortable (I guess!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2hmUjbfI/AAAAAAAABk4/-EV_l6bAB0M/s1600/DSC01182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2hmUjbfI/AAAAAAAABk4/-EV_l6bAB0M/s320/DSC01182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456311636898049522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake preferred to dig in the wood chips under the slide, rather than play on it!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2g7TBIaI/AAAAAAAABkw/RflwKaUpbU8/s1600/DSC01181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2g7TBIaI/AAAAAAAABkw/RflwKaUpbU8/s320/DSC01181.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456311625348882850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trev is (of course) much more of a conformist...using the play area as it was meant to be used!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3nhISjbI/AAAAAAAABlA/Lv3pRtSXzYU/s1600/DSC01185.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3nhISjbI/AAAAAAAABlA/Lv3pRtSXzYU/s320/DSC01185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456312838095277490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch time...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3oWQ7V2I/AAAAAAAABlI/voXJ4RyA2fs/s1600/DSC01188.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3oWQ7V2I/AAAAAAAABlI/voXJ4RyA2fs/s320/DSC01188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456312852358584162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had some lunch and eventually headed home for Izzy to take a nap.  At home, the boys rode their bikes for a while and I got some gardening done (yay!). T got ready for his first soccer practice of the season. Daddy stayed home with B and Iz while T and I headed off. Arriving at practice we found out that the 5/6 year olds have been combined with the 4/5 year olds, so T is one of the oldest and tallest on the team (except for a friend from Kindergarten who makes T look tiny!). T is also one of the only boys! The coach is a different one than the fall, and from what I saw at practice he focuses on some different skills, so I think that will help T grow as a player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3o2R1jkI/AAAAAAAABlQ/x6Ocy9UpdMU/s1600/DSC01194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3o2R1jkI/AAAAAAAABlQ/x6Ocy9UpdMU/s320/DSC01194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456312860952333890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3pVH-ohI/AAAAAAAABlY/r3tlF8DF8tU/s1600/DSC01197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i3pVH-ohI/AAAAAAAABlY/r3tlF8DF8tU/s320/DSC01197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456312869232484882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left T at practice, with Grandma there to bring him home, and I headed out for a girls night dinner with my old colleagues. It was a nice night out to catch up and to have some ME time!!!&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-905749009373343977?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/905749009373343977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=905749009373343977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/905749009373343977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/905749009373343977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-break-day-6-dentist-park.html' title='Spring Break: Day 5: Library, Coffee, Park, Soccer &amp; Dinner'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7i2gao9o_I/AAAAAAAABko/k4hmLyIN74Q/s72-c/DSC01178.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7721401901439907945</id><published>2010-03-30T20:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T10:20:40.377-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='water park'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 4: Splish Splash!</title><content type='html'>Today will hopefully be one of the highlights when the boys look back on this years spring break.  We're not the type of family who will probably ever go to Florida or on a cruise for Spring Break, and this is not the type of place we go to on a regular basis, so hopefully, they enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove about an hour north to a local hotel water park.  I tried not to tell them where we were going, but T would NOT go to sleep, so I had no choice but to tell him.  They were SUPER excited the whole ride there.  We met up with a few of our friends and spent 6+ hours there... definetly got our money's worth  (which is my criteria for a good time)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T &amp;amp; B have definitely changed in the last year or so in regards to water parks.  A few years ago they ran from big buckets that dumped tons of water, and they barely wanted to go near sprayers or water guns.  Now, they seek those things out, and ADORE being soaked and pounded by the water!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7afDvWtuEI/AAAAAAAABkI/NNuhQlrUO3w/s1600/DSC01155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7afDvWtuEI/AAAAAAAABkI/NNuhQlrUO3w/s320/DSC01155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455722885206095938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It took some arm wrestling, but eventually they stopped for a brief lunch break.  They CHOWED everything in site!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7afC9M14nI/AAAAAAAABj4/9Hic1OVOHK4/s1600/DSC01154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7afC9M14nI/AAAAAAAABj4/9Hic1OVOHK4/s320/DSC01154.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455722871742915186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of the day was the was the water slide.  The first time down one of the moms' went with two of the kids.  Then the kids realized they could go down without us, and they weren't scared AT ALL!!  They went up and down more times than I can count, and there were a good 60-75 stairs to the top (think of all the exercise they got!).    4 of them (3, 4 and 5 years old) went down probably 15 times or more, in various combinations.  At times it looked like, Blake and his two girlfriends running up the stairs, or Trevor and his two little siblings flying down!  It was just awesome that they were able and willing to do it on their own and have so much fun.  They're growing up!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7akPcbz8fI/AAAAAAAABkg/dmzpy5DCdSw/s1600/DSC01165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7akPcbz8fI/AAAAAAAABkg/dmzpy5DCdSw/s320/DSC01165.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455728583843770866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Izzy was with us, and the best I can say is that I hope she isn't scarred from this trip to the water park!  It wasn't a highlight of her week, that's for sure.  She spent most of the day in the baby sling, holding on to me pretty tightly.  Early on, she didn't have any desire to be in the water, but by the end of the day, she was willing to stand or sit in it.  But any splashing was NOT tolerated!  At one point, we were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and we got doused by the big bucket.  She was NOT happy to say the least!!  But lunch time proved to be a highlight of her day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7aghR5GG1I/AAAAAAAABkQ/tOw8Leb9kEA/s1600/DSC01170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7aghR5GG1I/AAAAAAAABkQ/tOw8Leb9kEA/s320/DSC01170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455724492204940114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the end of the day, we had eight tired, hungry, happy kids...who wanted to know when we could come back again!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7agiGUWKOI/AAAAAAAABkY/sEkGXYRngs4/s1600/DSC01174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7agiGUWKOI/AAAAAAAABkY/sEkGXYRngs4/s320/DSC01174.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455724506277882082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7721401901439907945?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7721401901439907945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7721401901439907945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7721401901439907945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7721401901439907945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-break-day-4-splish-splash.html' title='Spring Break: Day 4: Splish Splash!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7afDvWtuEI/AAAAAAAABkI/NNuhQlrUO3w/s72-c/DSC01155.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3437593467479788105</id><published>2010-03-29T22:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T22:22:27.423-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rants'/><title type='text'>Pardon the Interruption</title><content type='html'>We interrupt this program for a test of the Emergency Broadcast System.   Or actually, we interrupt this blog so that Mommy can rant!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the park visit yesterday was mostly fun, I have to get this rant off my chest!!  The park was FULL of 12-16 year old kids who were playing chase and hide-n-seek ALL over the park.  This particular park is a wooden park that has lots of staircases and turrets and towers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big kids were running super fast, jumping over various obstacles, muscling their way over fences, and not paying ANY attention to any of the other people at the park.  Oh and they were cursing enough to make me blush (and those of you who know me, know how foul my mouth can be!!).  They were making me CRAZY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should be glad they were out in the fresh air getting some exercise and not sitting in a basement playing video games or smoking... BUT I was annoyed!  Heck there was even a mom there that was ENCOURAGING them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I rounded up my boys to leave, I was explaining to them that we were leaving because of the big kids.  Because I was worried that they would get hurt.  Another mom heard me and came over to chat.  She mentioned her son had been kicked in the head by these teens.  I was SO livid and I was ready to go scream at all the teens!!!!  Don't make Mama Bear mad!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the boys were half way to the car, so I had to leave.  Maybe it was for the best that I didn't take on a pack of 16 year old boys.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We now conclude this test of the Mommy Rant System and return you to your regularly scheduled spring break programming!  Thank you for your time!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3437593467479788105?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3437593467479788105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3437593467479788105' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3437593467479788105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3437593467479788105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/pardon-interruption.html' title='Pardon the Interruption'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8025384541108265993</id><published>2010-03-29T21:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T10:20:03.768-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 3: Fire, Peanuts, and Park</title><content type='html'>Monday, the first 'true' day of spring break, we went on a 'field trip' to the Fire Station.  We did a tour of the same station a few years ago, but I thought the boys would enjoy doing it again, since they don't seem to remember going the first time!  Apparently (I say that a lot!) I was wrong.  Trevor spent most of the time saying, "Lame!" and Blake wasn't nearly as excited as I would have expected of a little boy obsessed with trucks.  Later Blake explained he likes CONSTRUCTION trucks not fire trucks or anything else!!!  Oopsies!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None the less, we saw fire trucks, pumpers, ladder trucks, and ambulances.  The boys got to walk thru a couple trucks and the ambulance, and they got to see where the firemen eat, sleep, and work.  Izzy seemed to like it, but the boys were a little ambivalent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I forgot my camera for this part, so I'm waiting for some  pictures from some friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the fire station, we headed off to a local restaurant for lunch.  The boys call it "The Peanut Restaurant" as they have baskets of nuts on the table, and you get to throw the shells on the floor!  This was probably the highlight of the day for them!!  I was just happy they were happy, and that they didn't feed Izzy and nuts!!  They also have a bunch of arcade games, including a "play til you win" claw machine, so the boys came home with some cheap trinkets that make them happy!!!  (Trev is now sporting his first gold chain, a la "Mr T"!!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we wrapped up the day at the park.  It was cool but sunny, so we stayed for a little bit and had some fun!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iz hanging out driving the wooden boat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMN7zf67I/AAAAAAAABjo/aNjAaVtLre0/s1600/DSC01143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMN7zf67I/AAAAAAAABjo/aNjAaVtLre0/s320/DSC01143.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454998482184039346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blake staying "safe" by not walking on the wood chips (some game he and T were playing!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMNfrV9oI/AAAAAAAABjg/8BkYKr9PykQ/s1600/DSC01142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMNfrV9oI/AAAAAAAABjg/8BkYKr9PykQ/s320/DSC01142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454998474633639554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QML25YbqI/AAAAAAAABjQ/3E-YXFvB-oM/s1600/DSC01133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QML25YbqI/AAAAAAAABjQ/3E-YXFvB-oM/s320/DSC01133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454998446506798754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little girl posing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMMkYE6-I/AAAAAAAABjY/VoBFtsZvCzs/s1600/DSC01136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMMkYE6-I/AAAAAAAABjY/VoBFtsZvCzs/s320/DSC01136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454998458715139042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What a FUN day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QML25YbqI/AAAAAAAABjQ/3E-YXFvB-oM/s1600/DSC01133.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8025384541108265993?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8025384541108265993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8025384541108265993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8025384541108265993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8025384541108265993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-break-day-3-fire-peanuts-and.html' title='Spring Break: Day 3: Fire, Peanuts, and Park'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7QMN7zf67I/AAAAAAAABjo/aNjAaVtLre0/s72-c/DSC01143.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8685400568499557046</id><published>2010-03-28T16:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T17:22:56.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bikes'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 2: New Bike</title><content type='html'>For SOOOO long, Blake REFUSED to have much to do with a bike/tricycle/big wheel.  And when he did choose to get near/on one, he REFUSED to have ANYTHING to do with the pedals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with his tricycle, which he would sit on and push himself around with his feet on the ground, and whine that the pedals were hitting him in the legs.  But he wouldn't pedal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we got him a big wheel.  We thought, "he CAN'T push this with his feet, it's too close to the ground".  But he somehow managed too push with his feet instead of pedaling, complaining the WHOLE time that it was SOOO hard to make it go. But he wouldn't pedal!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer when Trev got his big boy bike with no training wheels, I hoped and wished that B would want to ride T's old bike with the training wheels.  He did, but HE WOULDN'T PEDAL!  Finally, in September, as T ditched the training wheels, B started to pedal!  I was so excited!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a long winter, we've been getting out to our bikes a few times on the warmer spring days, and I was SOOO worried that B would go back to his old ways....whining, not pedaling, not wanting to ride a 'big boy bike'.  Thank goodness, I was wrong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, he was whining that he was TOO BIG for the little 12" bike that he was riding around on. (And honestly, he was too big for it.  He's practically as tall as T!) He was begging and demanding a bigger bike, and NO training wheels!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my kid... he's not ready, until he's ready, and then he's TOTALLY ready...RIGHT NOW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Saturday, Daddy and Blake went and got a new bike (I found a $20 off deal at TRU for this weekend only!).  And today they put it together and B got to ride it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As excited as he will ever look for the camera.  I'm just glad he actually looked at the camera!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnHKNj_iI/AAAAAAAABi4/PZLN_FuYk88/s1600/DSC01109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnHKNj_iI/AAAAAAAABi4/PZLN_FuYk88/s320/DSC01109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454183627676188194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnHKNj_iI/AAAAAAAABi4/PZLN_FuYk88/s1600/DSC01109.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The boys helping Daddy build.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnGuxi6PI/AAAAAAAABiw/6islLqeRCiE/s1600/DSC01112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnGuxi6PI/AAAAAAAABiw/6islLqeRCiE/s320/DSC01112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454183620310919410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Putting the pedals on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnGRZx5vI/AAAAAAAABio/toryyyVgfyk/s1600/DSC01114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnGRZx5vI/AAAAAAAABio/toryyyVgfyk/s320/DSC01114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454183612426610418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rattlesnake!  The cool name was the clincher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EmXbOXZvI/AAAAAAAABig/x9DzKfo5CQ0/s1600/DSC01120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EmXbOXZvI/AAAAAAAABig/x9DzKfo5CQ0/s320/DSC01120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454182807609239282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But he decided he did want the training wheels, at least for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EmW0Hv0BI/AAAAAAAABiY/RkbRrDiJnjY/s1600/DSC01121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EmW0Hv0BI/AAAAAAAABiY/RkbRrDiJnjY/s320/DSC01121.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454182797112496146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe by the end of summer we'll take them off!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7ElxnTx1yI/AAAAAAAABiQ/IodXDmENsoc/s1600/DSC01123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7ElxnTx1yI/AAAAAAAABiQ/IodXDmENsoc/s320/DSC01123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454182158018139938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8685400568499557046?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8685400568499557046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8685400568499557046' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8685400568499557046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8685400568499557046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-break-day-2-new-bike.html' title='Spring Break: Day 2: New Bike'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EnHKNj_iI/AAAAAAAABi4/PZLN_FuYk88/s72-c/DSC01109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-768395581367320354</id><published>2010-03-27T12:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T15:44:46.676-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='easter eggs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><title type='text'>Spring Break: Day 1: Easter Egg Hunt</title><content type='html'>Spring Break has arrived, and it's even supposed to have good  weather (we'll see if the weather man is a liar or not!!!). SToday  was the first day of spring break and both boys are quite excited by the  thought of NO SCHOOL for 10 days!!  Me, not sure if I'm excited  yet...ask me next Monday (the 10th day!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was also the  village easter egg hunt.  It was about 40 and chilly, but no rain, no  snow, and no mud for the first time in 3 years!  Yay!!  So here's  our day in pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy ready to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DB6gvVPmI/AAAAAAAABhQ/tBzr8CpHv_k/s1600/DSC01072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DB6gvVPmI/AAAAAAAABhQ/tBzr8CpHv_k/s320/DSC01072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454072359710703202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Picking up her first egg!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DBD512vOI/AAAAAAAABg4/ycV65H4BeuE/s1600/DSC01077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DBD512vOI/AAAAAAAABg4/ycV65H4BeuE/s320/DSC01077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454071421556145378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And putting it her bucket!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DBmfg4DtI/AAAAAAAABhA/D9Aw7TtINj0/s1600/DSC01080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DBmfg4DtI/AAAAAAAABhA/D9Aw7TtINj0/s320/DSC01080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454072015784251090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's so proud of herself!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DBmyVcjkI/AAAAAAAABhI/QJZT0fEZoFI/s1600/DSC01085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DBmyVcjkI/AAAAAAAABhI/QJZT0fEZoFI/s320/DSC01085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454072020836585026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blake had a great time too!  On your mark...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPZfh16FI/AAAAAAAABhw/zA09P9_Xbtw/s1600/DSC01093.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPX2Vn3II/AAAAAAAABhY/Erbd7pEO-uc/s1600/DSC01088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPX2Vn3II/AAAAAAAABhY/Erbd7pEO-uc/s320/DSC01088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454157526119996546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get set....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPYacIVRI/AAAAAAAABhg/fz8Y45Rgxt0/s1600/DSC01089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPYacIVRI/AAAAAAAABhg/fz8Y45Rgxt0/s320/DSC01089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454157535810966802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPY6hwqcI/AAAAAAAABho/S2WhQQIw9XQ/s1600/DSC01091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPY6hwqcI/AAAAAAAABho/S2WhQQIw9XQ/s320/DSC01091.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454157544424516034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And done!  He wouldn't look at me for one SINGLE picture!!  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPZfh16FI/AAAAAAAABhw/zA09P9_Xbtw/s1600/DSC01093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPZfh16FI/AAAAAAAABhw/zA09P9_Xbtw/s320/DSC01093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454157554356971602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then of course Trevor had his turn.  He didn't even want us to come out there since all his classmates were there and he's "too cool" already to be around his parents!  Geez!  But he had a great time collecting eggs!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EQbPk1hwI/AAAAAAAABh4/NjlUQDIY_gA/s1600/DSC01096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EQbPk1hwI/AAAAAAAABh4/NjlUQDIY_gA/s320/DSC01096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454158683945928450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EQbrC8R1I/AAAAAAAABiA/uDtbWnYmYt8/s1600/DSC01098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EQbrC8R1I/AAAAAAAABiA/uDtbWnYmYt8/s320/DSC01098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454158691319957330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPYacIVRI/AAAAAAAABhg/fz8Y45Rgxt0/s1600/DSC01089.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EQcXO3uxI/AAAAAAAABiI/Ar_LPyjd6c8/s1600/DSC01100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EQcXO3uxI/AAAAAAAABiI/Ar_LPyjd6c8/s320/DSC01100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454158703181150994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7EPX2Vn3II/AAAAAAAABhY/Erbd7pEO-uc/s1600/DSC01088.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More spring break coming soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-768395581367320354?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/768395581367320354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=768395581367320354' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/768395581367320354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/768395581367320354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-break-day-1-easter-egg-hunt.html' title='Spring Break: Day 1: Easter Egg Hunt'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S7DB6gvVPmI/AAAAAAAABhQ/tBzr8CpHv_k/s72-c/DSC01072.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-9159733458531975434</id><published>2010-03-16T12:45:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T13:46:30.951-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>11 months (and 1 day!)</title><content type='html'>I made it this far, always managing to find time to blog on her monthly birthday, and one month shy of perfection, I missed it!  Instead, I was busy creating and updating websites last night, and didn't manage to get her 11-month update in.  Bad mommy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you might have heard already, she's WALKING!!  It's been about 2 weeks now and she's just getting better and faster at it!!  She can stand up (from sitting) on her own in the middle of the room without a table or anything to pull herself up on.  She can walk towards something, change her mind and and change direction without falling over.  Her biggest problem is slippery socks on the hardwood floor!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_OSRBUvzI/AAAAAAAABf8/2VT6bL5vUf4/s1600-h/DSC01006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_OSRBUvzI/AAAAAAAABf8/2VT6bL5vUf4/s320/DSC01006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449300887343513394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's sleeping great, although she seems to be content to take only 1 nap a day already.  At least it's a 3 hour one!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She eating like a horse, or really, more like Blake.  Anything and everything including non-food items (playdoh) and foods she's not allowed to have (m&amp;amp;m's) are fair game if she can get her hands on them.  She recently has started to fill up her mouth with EVERYTHING that gets put on her tray and then sits there with a full mouth and cheeks trying to mash and swallow it all.  Not a pretty picture!!  So, her newest nickname is "Chipmunk"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_ORs8ZxQI/AAAAAAAABf0/SVXce2RP4xw/s1600-h/DSC01003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_ORs8ZxQI/AAAAAAAABf0/SVXce2RP4xw/s320/DSC01003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449300877659194626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's lots of fun and likes to imitate lots of moments like shaking your head "yes" or "no" or pretending to dance by bobbing her head around.  She thinks she's SOO funny and loves when she gets a reaction from me, daddy or the boys especially!!!  She's give you a coy little smile as she tilts her head to the side as if to say, "Why ya lookin' at me?  Oh, am I cute??  I didn't know that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M7KfG60I/AAAAAAAABfc/ZDgO7UDM8M8/s1600-h/DSC00982.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M7KfG60I/AAAAAAAABfc/ZDgO7UDM8M8/s320/DSC00982.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449299390940769090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's learned to play ball.  She'll grab a ball and throw it at you (or sometimes wing it the complete opposite direction, but still!) and wait for you to roll it back.  She'll play for a good 10-15 minutes before getting bored of the game, and really likes when more than one person plays with her at once....all the balls coming at her at once make her laugh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M7sVYdfI/AAAAAAAABfk/AIbitUX84mI/s1600-h/DSC00929.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M7sVYdfI/AAAAAAAABfk/AIbitUX84mI/s320/DSC00929.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449299400026781170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she LOVES being held upside down!  In fact, when she's in your arms or on your lap, she'll throw her head and body backwards to try and get herself upside down.  It can make you practically drop her if you're not expecting it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_MAqJPgZI/AAAAAAAABfE/aFCjpfDHX_I/s1600-h/DSC01002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_MAqJPgZI/AAAAAAAABfE/aFCjpfDHX_I/s320/DSC01002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449298385826709906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M52J43kI/AAAAAAAABfM/SSL8JiLCBHM/s1600-h/DSC01001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M52J43kI/AAAAAAAABfM/SSL8JiLCBHM/s320/DSC01001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449299368303189570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This fashion statement brought to you by Kate.  LOVE IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M6niOWwI/AAAAAAAABfU/15_qTrZ9kmg/s1600-h/DSC00996.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_M6niOWwI/AAAAAAAABfU/15_qTrZ9kmg/s320/DSC00996.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449299381558598402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in the planning stages of her birthday party and just ordered all the invitations, plates, and decorations.  I can't believe she'll be ONE in a month!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...and STILL NO TEETH!  Not that I'm complaining, especially from a nursing perspective, but wow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-9159733458531975434?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/9159733458531975434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=9159733458531975434' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/9159733458531975434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/9159733458531975434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/11-months-and-1-day.html' title='11 months (and 1 day!)'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S5_OSRBUvzI/AAAAAAAABf8/2VT6bL5vUf4/s72-c/DSC01006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3367367739723313824</id><published>2010-03-11T20:36:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T10:09:40.765-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swim class'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Sink or Swim</title><content type='html'>Two weeks ago the boys started their annual session of swimming classes.  The whole topic is a weird area for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, we had a pool in my backyard from when I was age 3 until I was 10 or 11 I think.  By the age of 4, I was a "fish" in my mother's words.  And, probably because of that, I've always ASSUMED that my boys would be swimming by now.  Only recently did my mother mention to me, that my brother didn't learn to swim until he was about 6.  So, that knowledge should make me feel better but it doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I want the boys to be able to swim, and figured they would be able to by now, I don't put a TON of effort into getting them to that point.  Trevor took his first "swim" class at age 12 or 15 months or so, in a Mommy and Me setting, really to get him used to the water.  I figured it was important to get him exposed and used to it, especially since we go out on the boat in the summer.  So we took a session of classes about once a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But because we are busy experiencing so many things in life, we don't seem to take classes more often than that.  In fact, taking swim classes in January-April seems to have become a tradition, since it's a crummy time of year to be outside, this gives us an activity to do!  So the boys are in swim classes again.  Last year they were both in the "Pike 1" level at the Y, which is basically the lowest level for kids without their parents.  They don't have to have ANY ability to swim on their own, as long as they are willing to try.  This was the 4th set of classes for Trevor and 3rd for Blake (after a few years of Parent/Tot).  They enjoyed it and did well last year, but at the end of it, BOTH boys were recommended to stay in the same level, not advancing.  The teacher wrote some comment on Trev's that he was very close to being in the next level, but she thought he would do better repeating again, just to get stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January came, and the brochure arrived in the mailbox.  I debated and debated what to do.  The Pike 1 is for 3-5 year olds, as is the Pike 2.  I read and re-read the descriptions and the teachers comments from last year.  I looked at the schedule of when the Pike 1 and 2 classes were.  Ultimately, I decided (with some input from DH, who usually defers to me in these types of situations) to put both boys in Pike 1 AGAIN.  But, I figured I could be smart, and put them in one that occured at the same scheduled time as a Pike 2 session.  Then, if T was ready for the Pike 2, they could just move him over.  Easy peasy, right?!?!??!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So 2 weeks ago we went to class for the first time.  I briefly talked to the instructor and gave her the summary of where T was.  She said she'd watch and see what she thought during class.  As I watched class, one thing was obvious to me...T was much more comfortable than the other 4 boys in his class, and he was probably at least 1.5 years older than all of them (I think Blake is older than all of them, but not by much!).  After class, the teacher agreed with me that T could go into the Pike 2 and probably be fine.  During class, I had also watched the 3 kids in Pike 2 and I felt the same way-T could handle that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I talked to the lady in charge....who basically blew me off, and gave me the run around!!! GRRRRR!  I understand I registered him for Pike 1, but really!!!  And I can't move him to the Pike 2 at the same time because it is FULL.  There are 5 kids in it (only 3 showed day 1) and they CAN NOT have more than 5 kids!!  No way, no how!  She made that clear!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that this pool had a system to test the kids on the first day of classes and then assign them that day.  And if they did that, they could split up siblings (which I think would be good for the boys) and they could put like age's together!!  There were some Pike 2's that Trevor could swim laps around (if he could swim at all!!!) and there were quite a few other bad fits in terms of kids in wrong classes.  I think it's really hard to have parents choose a level for their kids if they haven't been in a class for a while...especially since we've been going to open swim's and "practicing" in the last month or two.  Trevor's level might have changed from last April to now for LOTS of reasons!!!  Anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After begging and pleading (politely!), the lady in charge said she'd see what she could do and would get back to me, but it was unlikely since the Pike 2 was full.   So last week we went to class.  No lady in charge, no message, no information, no nothing.  (But there were 5 kids in Pike 2-Damn!!)  Trev was upset, as he really wanted to be in the next class.  Heck, Blake was even okay with Trev not being in his class (and that is a big thing for B usually!).  So T and B went to the Pike 1 class and Trev was great (and B did his best and was pretty good).  At the end of class, T took off his floaty and tried to swim to the stairs all by himself, and really did a good job.  Not full swimming, but pretty close!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we go in and get ready for class.  As we sit on the deck waiting, here comes the lady in charge.  She says to me that she can do a Pike 2 class for T, but it would be after B's class, so I'd have to sit there for 2 seperate classes (35 minutes each).  While it's not that long, the classes are 25 min away from home, start at 5, so right now we're barely getting home at 6:15, eating dinner and getting all the bed time stuff in.  Add another 35 minutes of class to that....yikes!!  And then there's the Izzy factor-poor girl's dinner and bed time is all messed up because of this!  So I thought about it, and then decided not to do it.  Trev's teacher has been wonderful about helping him and pushing him to do more than the other kids in his class, so I decided that would cut it.  Lady in charge gave me SUCH a dirty look!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I watched them swim.  And  4 of the 5 kids in their class were there.  And then the 5th showed up on deck.  Incidentally, this little girl is probably about 3 1/2, and she was in their swim class last year.  Last year, she barely got in the water, with her mom sitting 5 inches away, and I don't think she ever got her face/head wet.  Moving on.... the little girl walks out on deck (with her dad) and he takes her over to the Pike 2 class.  In my head, I'm thinking, "Oh Dad, you don't know what class she belongs in".  But NO ONE fixed it!!!!  The Pike 2 teacher took her with the rest of her kids (now 6 total!!!) and the Pike 1 teacher didn't go over and say "hey, she belongs in my class".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I want to know.... WTF?!?!??!?!   How can she be #6 in class, when her skills don't seem to be that advanced, and you CAN'T have 6 kids in a class.. No way no how!!! GRRRR!!!  At least the boys didn't notice!!!  And now they get more attention since there are only 4 kids in their class!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3367367739723313824?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3367367739723313824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3367367739723313824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3367367739723313824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3367367739723313824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/sink-or-swim.html' title='Sink or Swim'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7880894371434690439</id><published>2010-03-09T23:25:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T00:02:10.338-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>I need a new Job Title</title><content type='html'>I should be sleeping, but instead my mind is buzzing with thoughts that I want to post, so here I am... remind me tomorrow morning why this seemed like a good idea!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 10 days ago, I had an interesting conversation with a 6-year-old in Trev's Kindergarten class.  I go each week and each child comes out in the hallway to read to me.  When J came out, he sat down, looked me right in the eye and said, "Trevor says you don't work.  What's that about?".  What I can't convey online is the tone he used.  There was contempt and shock and rudeness just emenating from this kid.  I think the very idea of a mother not having a job outside the home SHOCKED him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was similarly shocked to have this question asked of me, by this person, in this tone.  Don't get me wrong, I've been asked this question before, by adults (some rude some not), but not by a 6-year-old.  I looked at him and said something about Trev having a younger brother and baby sister, and that my job was to take care of them.  And we moved on. (or so I thought!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, this conversation has come back to me.  In part this is due to a conversation friends of mine were having today about resumes and what to put on them now we've been "out of the workforce" for 3-5 years raising our kids. Along the same lines, a blog that I read had an interesting &lt;a href="http://blog.wantingwhatyouhave.com/2010/03/what-it-means-to-be-housewife.html"&gt;post today about the term "housewife"&lt;/a&gt; and what that job encompasses.  And because of a book I've been reading, "The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands" by Dr Laura Schlessinger.  (Which I have to say, was not a book I EVER thought I would read, as I didn't think I was a big fan of her's, but I will admit to being wrong on occasion!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many times I will refer to myself as a "stay at home mom (SAHM)".  But after reading the previously mentioned blog post, I'm not sure that title does myself justice.  People who hear that seem to stop listening as soon as they hear "stay at home".  Those that don't do the job might envision watching soap operas, eating bonbons, or sleeping in!  Not things that I get to do very often!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My previously mentioned friends suggested terms such as "domestic engineer" which I've heard before and contemplated using.  But I wonder if people really respect that term, or just think it's a bunch of "housewives" over-dramatacizing their daily responsibilities.  It's  a term that feels a little too politically-correct to me and like many PC terms, doesn't get the respect that it deserves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I might have to go with the idea of being co-owner of our "family" business.  The actual FAMILY being the business.  This is pretty much the idea from the &lt;a href="http://blog.wantingwhatyouhave.com/2010/03/what-it-means-to-be-housewife.html"&gt;aforementioned blog&lt;/a&gt; and it rang very true for me today.  My job is to keep this family running in an efficient, effective manner.  Which includes (but is not limited to): keeping the employees (all 5 of us, including my hubby) happy; helping the employees enjoy their jobs (for the kids that's both school and PLAY-an important job for kids); keeping the office sanitary, functional, updated, and useable;  helping keep the business in the black, rather than the red (i.e. making sound financial decisions-with the other 'owner' of the company-hubby!); and on and on it goes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there is that fact that my 'job' doesn't go from 9-5 from Monday to Friday.  I don't often get to get away from my job and go home. I usually work my job from 6:30am-11pm, with my employees awake and demanding immediate supervison (and entertainment!) for almost all of those hours.  And I am on call ALL the other hours of the day, pretty much every day of the week.  On the up side, my co-owner is more than willing to give me time off when schedules allow it, so it's not as if I never get any time off! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then of course there is the pay rate for this job.  Many people will be quick to point out that SAHM's don't make any money.  While that may be true, I can only imagine the amount of money that I HAVEN'T spent on daycare for 3 children for the last 5 years! (I'm gonna have to calculate that amount tomorrow!).  But as co-owner of my "family business" there are the non-monetary ways in which I am paid.  I can say that my son knows how to read (talk, walk, paint, etc.) because I helped him learn how.  I can say that being there to witness every first for all 3 of my children is more valueable than any material item I could buy.  And I should point out again that I am lucky to have a co-owner and not be running this business on my own!  I'm glad to have found him!!  There are invaluable ways that I have been paid doing this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think it's fair to say, that in a "real job" (lots of sarcasm there....) you get frustrated with company policies, with fellow employees, with job duties, etc. etc.  I can say that with confidence since I had a "real job" for a number of years before "leaving my job to live this life of luxury as a SAHM" (more sarcasm!!).  So yes, there are times when I get frustrated with parts of my job as "co-owner of the family business" and I am not so polite to the other members of the business, or that I don't enjoy my job duties (doing the dishes is my least favorite).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, in case you were wondering hat product does my "family business" produce?? We are proud to produce productive members of society.  And it's my job to try and help all 5 of us be just that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7880894371434690439?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7880894371434690439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7880894371434690439' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7880894371434690439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7880894371434690439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-need-new-job-title.html' title='I need a new Job Title'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5212157678779029513</id><published>2010-03-03T14:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T14:31:21.820-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>WALKING!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b6215097ca9ce65b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db6215097ca9ce65b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D64BDB3F9D5B4CD128862ED534863E2893F4A9493.79B9A5D264726BE9DD2E552305B4708662EA250F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db6215097ca9ce65b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DzVJPqaOo98AXRZx6hswQ7rDQrKA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db6215097ca9ce65b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D64BDB3F9D5B4CD128862ED534863E2893F4A9493.79B9A5D264726BE9DD2E552305B4708662EA250F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db6215097ca9ce65b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DzVJPqaOo98AXRZx6hswQ7rDQrKA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5212157678779029513?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5212157678779029513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5212157678779029513' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5212157678779029513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5212157678779029513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/03/walking.html' title='WALKING!!!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2345998272696295604</id><published>2010-02-15T20:58:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T16:36:01.666-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Isabelle the 10th Month</title><content type='html'>It's been a fun month, with lots of stuff going on, hence the lack of blog posts.  Oopsies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's 10 months old!  She still isn't walking, but she's getting very close on that one!  She'll take single steps regularly, and stand without holding on for 5+ minutes. I'd say  I'm expecting true walking and multiple steps very soon, but I've been thinking that for a while now.  I'm starting to wonder if this little girl has her own agenda and will walk "when she's darn good and ready!"  Who knows when, but I'm not really in a rush for my baby to walk!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sVFmv7cSI/AAAAAAAABeU/xtQLRXN-TJw/s1600-h/DSC00646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sVFmv7cSI/AAAAAAAABeU/xtQLRXN-TJw/s320/DSC00646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438964161025110306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while she still has ZERO teeth, that doesn't seem to be slowing her down on trying new foods.  Thanks to a friend, she tried and liked steamed whole peas.  So then we tried steamed carrots, a variety of beans (black &amp;amp; red are her favorites) and just this weekend, she tried little pieces of turkey.  She loves them all, really likes feeding herself, and seems to have an endless appetite!!!  She's still getting spoon-fed lots of pureed food to make sure she's actually getting enough to eat, and she's still nursing, but it's nice for her to get to do more of the work too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sWqlDbnHI/AAAAAAAABec/pfZQrYoBSAA/s1600-h/DSC00650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sWqlDbnHI/AAAAAAAABec/pfZQrYoBSAA/s320/DSC00650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438965895736826994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other big news on the eating front is YOGURT!!  She's been eating yogurt successfully (i.e. with no rash or other reactions) for about a month now.  We started out with one serving every three or four days, and when there was no reaction, we moved it up.  Now she's eating it every night for dinner, and she LOVES it!!!  She bangs on the high chair for "more, more".  I'm hoping this means that the transition to milk in a few months will be seamless, and that her dairy issues are behind her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sXG1H1CuI/AAAAAAAABek/jklFLuy2o9M/s1600-h/DSC00667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sXG1H1CuI/AAAAAAAABek/jklFLuy2o9M/s320/DSC00667.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438966381086575330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's consistently sleeping thru the night now!!!  She'll go to bed about 7:30 or 8, and wake up at about 7!!!  I am really appreciating this!  But now that I don't have "interrupted sleep" as an excuse, I should really be getting up early in the mornings to exercise!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sXHX3nRWI/AAAAAAAABes/cWkv53hRFkM/s1600-h/DSC00678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sXHX3nRWI/AAAAAAAABes/cWkv53hRFkM/s320/DSC00678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438966390413804898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's also learned to crawl up stairs!  She was motivated one night, when she could hear the boys but not see them.  She went to the stairs, heard them up in their room, and up she went.  And she was good at it!  Of course, the going down part is not so easy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sYOZkxwUI/AAAAAAAABe0/40YucadN-pQ/s1600-h/DSC00885.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sYOZkxwUI/AAAAAAAABe0/40YucadN-pQ/s320/DSC00885.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438967610642383170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finally, it seems we have conquered the bath issue.  Thanks to a toy from Mam-gu (my mother).  She's enjoyed the last few baths she's gotten, because of the wonderful octopus toy.  I think I should buy a few more of them now, just in case!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sYO8UXi8I/AAAAAAAABe8/U0SP0IzK7FM/s1600-h/DSC00900.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sYO8UXi8I/AAAAAAAABe8/U0SP0IzK7FM/s320/DSC00900.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438967619968797634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason one of her nicknames is Flipper:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-499380915228ad51" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D499380915228ad51%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D179A7BB5DF6921B975D09BB8F55253AC3B26DB29.27CAF8914E861A48831AB5C5EE2E9C25FC74226F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D499380915228ad51%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DWNizC9XpALjmbjGo_OQoMyxyqHQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v13.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D499380915228ad51%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D179A7BB5DF6921B975D09BB8F55253AC3B26DB29.27CAF8914E861A48831AB5C5EE2E9C25FC74226F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D499380915228ad51%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DWNizC9XpALjmbjGo_OQoMyxyqHQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2345998272696295604?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2345998272696295604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2345998272696295604' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2345998272696295604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2345998272696295604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/02/isabelle-10th-month.html' title='Isabelle the 10th Month'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S3sVFmv7cSI/AAAAAAAABeU/xtQLRXN-TJw/s72-c/DSC00646.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-6161476177583651854</id><published>2010-01-21T16:20:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T16:54:01.619-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crafts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><title type='text'>The B-Man</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, the Blake-ster was lucky enough to get to visit the pediatrician for his 4-year well child check-up.  I am THRILLED to say, it was the easiest doctor visit I can remember in 5+ years of parenting!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day before our appointment, I gave him a briefing on what was going to happen at the visit:  hearing check, eye/ear/nose/mouth check, eye test (playing pirate), standing on scale, playing follow the leader with the Dr, and answering questions.  He did it all, without a whine, whimper or hesitation, which is SO unlike him (or at least how he can be at times!).  And he did it all, without promise of any gift or treat either!!!  Made my day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a numbers perspective, he's 39.7 pounds and 42 inches.  He's 75th percentile in both, and quickly catching up to and overtaking Trevor, who STILL doesn't weigh that much!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it off, he's really proving to me just what a 'big boy' he has become.  School has been no issue for him, right from the start.  I'm not sure why I worried so much (guess it's cause I'm a mom!).  There was part of me that was also worried that he wasn't going to a Montessori style preschool, and how that would affect his learning.  I really feel there's a huge advantage to that style of learning, especially for a kid like Blake who I think is a tactile learner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came home Tuesday with a great activity that they had done at school and that he got to bring home and keep doing.   It's such a simple activity, that any of us can do at home with our kids.   ANd it's an activity that I've never thought to do before.  They didn't do it at the Montessori school that T went to for 2 years, and I don't think I saw it in my 10 years of teaching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The activity??  Using playdoh to form the letters of his name.  Yup, that's it.  But for Blake, it's an AWESOME activity.  He LOVES playdoh.  He doubts his ability to use a pencil and to make straight lines, and he seems to make that a self-fullfilling prophecy (every time he tries to write if he makes a tiny mistake, he's SO upset, and then he 'accidentally' draws a crazy squiggly line ALL over the paper!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S1jY5c0KFdI/AAAAAAAABeE/zaQRB6wLDlI/s1600-h/DSC00610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S1jY5c0KFdI/AAAAAAAABeE/zaQRB6wLDlI/s320/DSC00610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429327832294233554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher in me, also realized that for kids who aren't sure what the letters look like, you can write their name and then they can make the playdoh match those shapes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S1jY47OPUWI/AAAAAAAABd8/9gClBaVbmRU/s1600-h/DSC00609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S1jY47OPUWI/AAAAAAAABd8/9gClBaVbmRU/s320/DSC00609.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429327823276822882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching B do this a few times, and show-off to Daddy and Grandma, I realized how proud of himself he is.  In fact, I think it's given him new confidence;  he wrote his name, unassisted, twice this morning and took it to school to show off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's a video of it, just cause!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3d02dad9e587a80a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d02dad9e587a80a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D29EA732EF174B9D219F9EADAD28BC9B1363C025B.2216A4E16F2C78C972845E1AAE4F1BBDFB6A6496%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d02dad9e587a80a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUGQDf0T9A8ZkM7h1D0GP0LB_iAs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3d02dad9e587a80a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D29EA732EF174B9D219F9EADAD28BC9B1363C025B.2216A4E16F2C78C972845E1AAE4F1BBDFB6A6496%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3d02dad9e587a80a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUGQDf0T9A8ZkM7h1D0GP0LB_iAs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-6161476177583651854?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/6161476177583651854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=6161476177583651854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6161476177583651854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6161476177583651854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/01/b-man.html' title='The B-Man'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S1jY5c0KFdI/AAAAAAAABeE/zaQRB6wLDlI/s72-c/DSC00610.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3545829572574287270</id><published>2010-01-14T22:32:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T14:31:01.355-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>The 9th Month</title><content type='html'>She's 9 months old.  She's now been out in the world, as long as she was in me.  But enough of the sappy stuff....let's get to the stats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's an expert crawler, who turns on a dime to get to something (or someone) she wants.  She'll crawl right up to something, and to make sure she's close enough, she crawls until her head bangs into it, no matter what it is!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z9-FwA-I/AAAAAAAABdM/kdKAs4TwahA/s1600-h/DSC01413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z9-FwA-I/AAAAAAAABdM/kdKAs4TwahA/s320/DSC01413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426824321969423330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, she crawls only when she can't cruise the furniture.  She'd much prefer to be vertical and 'walking' while she holds on to anything and everything she can find.  In fact today, she decided one of the bar stools in the kitchen was a perfect walker for her to push around the kitchen so she could get to new things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z-mEO1mI/AAAAAAAABdU/kmaDrq91hCc/s1600-h/DSC01422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z-mEO1mI/AAAAAAAABdU/kmaDrq91hCc/s320/DSC01422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426824332700472930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While cruising and standing, she can balance briefly (5 seconds or less) without holding on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she's balancing on 2 feet, she likes to practice her clapping.  She'll amuse herself for hours sitting and clapping.  And if Trevor is in the room, she'll amuse him with her clapping, and he'll sit and clap with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_1VEkV6vI/AAAAAAAABd0/WKQxLJHwWYI/s1600-h/DSC00549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_1VEkV6vI/AAAAAAAABd0/WKQxLJHwWYI/s320/DSC00549.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426825818356968178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly, she likes to clap just after she's been told "No".  You see, when we first had to start telling her no, it was for pulling up on the entertainment center and trying to push buttons on the DVD player and Tivo box.  So we would say "no" and move her away.  When we told her "no" and she sat down on her own and moved away we clapped for her and said "good girl".  And did that over and over again, when she would move away on her own.  So now, if you say "no" to her, she'll sit down and clap!!!  Smart girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z_Er3mbI/AAAAAAAABdc/ArZUrIC_bl0/s1600-h/DSC00101a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z_Er3mbI/AAAAAAAABdc/ArZUrIC_bl0/s320/DSC00101a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426824340919785906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's still toothless.  We thought she might get them soon, as the boys both got their first one around 9 months, but there seems to be no sign of any pearly whites yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food has become a new battle ground.  While she formerly enjoyed pretty much anything (at least of the few things she'd tried!), she's now got some STRONG desires.  Specifically, fruit.  If her meal contains fruit, no problem.  She'll eat it, lickety-split.  If no fruit, no eat.  And good luck tricking her into it.  So most days, she gets "something" and apples.  Something includes:  sweet potatoes, squash, carrots, chicken, turkey, grean beans, pears, or blueberries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z_bPjOkI/AAAAAAAABdk/rNO4WImwDOc/s1600-h/DSC00497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z_bPjOkI/AAAAAAAABdk/rNO4WImwDOc/s320/DSC00497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426824346975025730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She also enjoys eating her toes.  She eats them at meal times if the food isn't what she wants, or if I'm taking to long making the boys lunch.  But she'll also snack on them during play time and diaper changes, or whenever the mood strikes her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z_wU_asI/AAAAAAAABds/n8Xp5DEnRCk/s1600-h/DSC00523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z_wU_asI/AAAAAAAABds/n8Xp5DEnRCk/s320/DSC00523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426824352634989250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, Izzy made a new year's resolution.  I may have offended her when I called her the quiet child in the Christmas letter, or maybe she was worried that I really would forget her somewhere since she can be so quiet.  So since New Year's Day, she's taken to screeching in a loud and high tone all the time!  She quite enjoys the reaction she gets from her brothers; they either laugh, screech back, or cover their ears.  Regardless, she's found her voice and she's using it.  I've not caught it on video yet, but I'm trying and I'll add a video once I get it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her one other dislike...the bath.  I don't recall exactly when it happened, but she definitely has hated the bath for the last 2 or 3 months.  Before she could sit, she wasn't thrilled when I'd put her in the tub, but she'd play and relax, and tolerate it.  Ever since she's been able to sit, she can't stand the tub.  We've tried lots of different things, but nothing seems to make her happier.  She doesn't mind standing in an inch or two of water, or even sitting in that much, but once I try to wash her off, she wants no part of it.  And by the time we get to washing her hair....she's screaming and howling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a short video of Iz clapping, and also 'running' away from the camera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a997af3e74b91de2" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da997af3e74b91de2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D28A439B386DFEC3D09415A42DA92DE93C7C5402D.2CE0E726B3129F7B637356C089389B357F4842F8%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da997af3e74b91de2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFTy-3hfY-3W3nJ6gNKUqGX6DrIo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da997af3e74b91de2%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D28A439B386DFEC3D09415A42DA92DE93C7C5402D.2CE0E726B3129F7B637356C089389B357F4842F8%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da997af3e74b91de2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFTy-3hfY-3W3nJ6gNKUqGX6DrIo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is a priceless video of Lunch.  The first two bites (red spoon) are apricots and apples.  The third bite (blue spoon) is green beans and squash.  This is the pattern I have to use to get any vegetables in her (unless the are mixed with apples-see above) and even then, by the end of the meal it seems she's starting to catch on to the pattern (or the spoon color?) and doesn't want to take the 3rd bite anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a281982fe277d7a0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da281982fe277d7a0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2138CC45B6A0167F6CA20E13591B546F5064FA43.6DEB5CDFFF5A73D8E34D5048A4F607F8051CA707%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da281982fe277d7a0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dao6kNYdeF0LUYAxy1OCtHxpy7GA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da281982fe277d7a0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2138CC45B6A0167F6CA20E13591B546F5064FA43.6DEB5CDFFF5A73D8E34D5048A4F607F8051CA707%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da281982fe277d7a0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dao6kNYdeF0LUYAxy1OCtHxpy7GA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's earned a few new nicknames recently.  Flipper-because if you pick her up under the arms (facing outwards) and she can see the boys or is really excited about something, she kinda wiggles her whole body back and forth like she's trying to get her feet to touch her head!  I've gotta catch that on video.  Her other nickname:  Hoover....because any TINY piece of anything on the floor she will pick up and eat!  She's better than my vacuum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I just have to say what a great sleeper she is.  When she's tired, she'll let you know, by fussing and wanting to be picked up, which she rarely does otherwise (fussing especially).  You can take her to her crib, give her her pacifier and blanket and she'll roll over on her side and that's it.  She'll be asleep in 5 minutes.  In fact, when Grandma babysat the other day and tried to rock her to sleep, Izzy didn't know what she was doing and just wanted to be put in her crib!!  She also sleeps great at night, from 7:30pm to 7:30 am, only waking at 4 am for a 5 minute feeding!!&lt;br /&gt;Next week we'll visit the pediatrician, and see just how much she's grown.  But as I look at her, she's already changed so much, I can't quite believe it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3545829572574287270?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3545829572574287270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3545829572574287270' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3545829572574287270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3545829572574287270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/01/9th-month.html' title='The 9th Month'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/S0_z9-FwA-I/AAAAAAAABdM/kdKAs4TwahA/s72-c/DSC01413.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7203069681239894951</id><published>2010-01-07T20:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T20:49:47.204-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>He's definetly my child!</title><content type='html'>I am a person who notices 'strange' relationships between things.  My brain picks up on certain odd little facts about things and puts them together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, my cousins initials could have been BMW.  Wouldn't that be cool?  In fact for the LONGEST time, I was obsessed with the initials my (then) future children would have and wanted them to spell a word (for example, INK, OAK, SIK, etc).  Eventually I put that idea to rest, but I still kinda wish I had done it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another odd relationship I noticed, in my group of 6 mommy friends that regularly hang out, 3 of us are about to turn 35, and the other 3 about to turn 30.  The 3 that are turning 35 all have 3 children.  The 3 about to turn 30, all have 2.  Odd huh???  And these random thoughts just hit me, when I'm driving, or trying to fall asleep, or trying to listen to the traffic on the radio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Trevor, Izzy and I, were driving to pick Blake up from preschool.  Trevor was commenting about something he saw out the window, and commented to me about it being "out there, that way".  I reminded him that "that way" doesn't tell me which side I should look out, and I asked if it was on his side or Blake's side.  He responded, "my side, the right".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few moments pass, maybe 5 seconds, and suddenly he says to me, "Mommy, I'm on the right and my name has an R second, and Blake is on the left and his name has an L second." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I about drove off the road, because that fact had NEVER occurred to me, and yet it was a TOTAL me type thought!  It was bizarre that he made the connection, and just completely made me think of how like me he really can be at times!  What a proud mommy moment....my kids an oddball just like his mama!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7203069681239894951?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7203069681239894951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7203069681239894951' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7203069681239894951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7203069681239894951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/01/hes-definetly-my-child.html' title='He&apos;s definetly my child!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-4614195169592433273</id><published>2010-01-01T20:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T21:05:05.126-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenting'/><title type='text'>Last Photos of 2009</title><content type='html'>As previously established, I've been behind in my blogging. I just finished downloading pictures off the old camera (we got a new one for Christmas!) and WOW am I way behind. So here's a send off to 2009 in photos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trev showing off his 'muscles'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz618pbaFHI/AAAAAAAABcs/dmLwq9KVCa4/s1600-h/DSC01168.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz618pbaFHI/AAAAAAAABcs/dmLwq9KVCa4/s320/DSC01168.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421971054918243442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A balanced dinner around here:  noodles, spaghetti, and mac &amp;amp; cheese!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz618RKmP0I/AAAAAAAABck/oSisUZ5rddU/s1600-h/DSC01167.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz618RKmP0I/AAAAAAAABck/oSisUZ5rddU/s320/DSC01167.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421971048405286722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite sign that we saw at the Field Musem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz6016bw9HI/AAAAAAAABcc/9MhDJPJumLM/s1600-h/DSC01107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz6016bw9HI/AAAAAAAABcc/9MhDJPJumLM/s320/DSC01107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421969839712433266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It reads:  "A snail laid these eggs here -- and then she  moved on.  That is typical for a lot of animals.  Instead of putting their energy into taking care of a few babies, they just make LOTS of babies.  This increases the odds that at least a few will survive."  HAHA!!!  Maybe this should be some people approach to parenting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy and her walker....she's getting good at this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz601UuZfSI/AAAAAAAABcU/CYHCFRtJKvs/s1600-h/DSC01422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz601UuZfSI/AAAAAAAABcU/CYHCFRtJKvs/s320/DSC01422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421969829590039842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids with Santa at Bass Pro Shops.  A really nice Santa, and all FREE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz601OF7kLI/AAAAAAAABcM/N--faoe4Dfk/s1600-h/DSC01383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz601OF7kLI/AAAAAAAABcM/N--faoe4Dfk/s320/DSC01383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421969827809693874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My BENCH!!!  Hubby has been working on this for about a year and a half, and finished it just in time for Christmas!!!  Yay for me and for him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz600mGX7SI/AAAAAAAABcE/zoOoIfZBUOM/s1600-h/DSC01446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz600mGX7SI/AAAAAAAABcE/zoOoIfZBUOM/s320/DSC01446.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421969817074134306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so that's it....for 2009!  I'm hoping this new year will be healthy, fun, productive, and enjoyable!  (No pressure, right!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-4614195169592433273?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/4614195169592433273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=4614195169592433273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4614195169592433273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4614195169592433273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2010/01/last-photos-of-2009.html' title='Last Photos of 2009'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sz618pbaFHI/AAAAAAAABcs/dmLwq9KVCa4/s72-c/DSC01168.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8504042643406822957</id><published>2009-12-30T10:24:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T11:30:33.985-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Happy Belated Birthday Blake!</title><content type='html'>Monday we celebrated Blake's 4th Birthday!  With the hubbub that is the holiday season, I'm of course posting this late!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 years ago....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a Tuesday night, hubby was off work for the holiday's, and I was hoping to have this baby before the New Year arrived.  At about 11 pm, I went to bed.  But being 9 months pregnant, I couldn't sleep in our water bed, so I was sleeping on the couch in the living room.  So I went to sleep, and hubby was upstairs playing computer games (since he couldn't watch TV).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up at about 1 am to go to the bathroom, and recall seeing the light on upstairs still.  But I wasn't surprised, hubby is usually up late playing games.  I lay back down on the couch, but couldn't get to sleep.  I was uncomfortable in EVERY position.  After about 30 or 45 minutes, I went upstairs to see if I could get comfy in bed.  By now, hubby had gone to bed, but wasn't asleep yet.  I tried not to disturb him as I continued to change positions and try to get to sleep.  Here and there, I was having some light contractions, but in my mind they weren't very strong and they weren't very regular.  So I kept thinking that both hubby and I should get more sleep while we still could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 2:30 am, I still hadn't gotten to sleep, and I'm not sure hubby did either.  At that point, he realized that I was in labor, even though I hadn't admitted it to myself yet!  He had me call the doctor, and when I talked with her, she knew I was in labor, and suggested we get to the hospital ASAP.  We called grandma, and she was here by 3 am.  At this point, I was definitely feeling like I was in labor, but I still figured we had plenty of time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left for the hospital got there by 3:30 am.  Hubby was smart enough to bring along a plastic bag for me to puke in, and boy was I glad he did!!  We went in through the ER entrance and they got me upstairs pretty fast, and I was in my room with a gown etc before 4 am.  The next 30 minutes are a total blur to me.  The nurse must have checked to see how far I was dilated (but I don't really remember that).  Apparently, it was pretty far because they prepped the room, called the doctor, and somehow got an IV line in my arm.  The doctor suddenly appeared, and with 1 push Blake Huntington was born at 4:17 am.  WHEW!!  He was 7 pounds, 11 ounces, and 19 3/4 inches long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake lives day to day life just like his delivery....he's a whirlwind, always on the go, and can switch from happy to sad (or sad to happy) in a heartbeat, without any warning!!!  He's my little whirlwind, who arrived in a flash, but I wouldn't have him any other way!!!  I love you my BIG little man...Happy Birthday!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8504042643406822957?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8504042643406822957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8504042643406822957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8504042643406822957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8504042643406822957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-belated-birthday-blake.html' title='Happy Belated Birthday Blake!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-4153637261898797378</id><published>2009-12-15T21:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T21:42:14.762-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tshirt blankets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Delaware'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><title type='text'>Busy Busy Busy</title><content type='html'>So I've been a slacker in the blog-world.  On the plus side, it's because I've been anything but a slacker in the real world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mid-November, Izzy and I took a plane ride to Delaware to visit family and friends.  I got to catch up with an old friend from high school who I grew up with but who I haven't seen in years, and that was awesome!  Then, I got together with a great group of friends who I've known for years but only known most of them via email conversations.  We had a great night hanging out together and catching up.  Finally, I got to spend a day at my brother's house, for his annual Pre-Thanksgiving dinner.  Yummy and a great chance to see a few old acquaintances and meet some of his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home just in time to host Thanksgiving dinner for us and hubby's family.  12 of us gathered for turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, and all the other yummies.  It was good to see all the cousins who are spread far apart these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, I've been busy Christmas shopping (including Black Friday-a first for me!), decorating, and sending Christmas letters.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been busy working on a new business venture....T-shirt Blankets.  A few years ago, I took all of my college fraternity shirts that I rarely wore anymore and turned them into a blanket.  At the time, I figured it was pretty simple and nothing special.  But 3 or 4 years of using the blanket at the park for picnics has made me think otherwise.  So many people stop to comment on it, and think it's a great idea, and something they'd love to have but never could do themselves.  So....I figured I'd give it a try making blankets for other people.  Heck, I've even put together a website for it.  Wanna see???  &lt;a href="http://tsitb.weebly.com"&gt;Here's the page!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last thing has been occupying my mind this last month.  And unfortunately, I'm going to end this post on a sad note.  I've been forced to realize just how lucky I am recently, because of some terrible things that have happened.  First, a friend of a friend's family was driving to Disney World when their car was rear-ended.  Sadly, their 4-year-old daughter, was critically injured and passed away.  Shortly thereafter, we learned that DH's cousin's newborn daughter may be diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis.  Details and a definite diagnosis are still pending, so right now we are playing a waiting game.  Then, I learned of a friend's 5-year-old son diagnosis with stage four neuroblastoma.  So far, he's doing well through stages of chemo and fighting hard.    Finally, hubby's aunt passed away suddenly a week ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's truly been a heart-breaking and emotionally exhausting few weeks.  I am trying so hard to be thankful for everything I have, and to do all that I can to support those who are dealing with such terrible loss and pain at what should be the most wonderful time of the year.  So send your positive thoughts, your prayers, or do whatever it is that you do, and make sure you say "Thank you" for all the good things in your own life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-4153637261898797378?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/4153637261898797378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=4153637261898797378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4153637261898797378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4153637261898797378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/12/busy-busy-busy.html' title='Busy Busy Busy'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1028723255165824646</id><published>2009-12-15T20:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T21:03:36.325-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Isabelle 8 Months</title><content type='html'>She's 8 months old, and I've barely blogged twice since she was 7 months old!  Oopsies!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, she's been busy (and so have I!).  She went from barely being able to army crawl to a full crawl the weekend before Thanksgiving, to pulling herself up on furniture the week after Thanksgiving, and now she's pulling up all the time and cruising all around the furniture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this rate, she'll walk sooner than either of the boys. She's gotta walk by end of January to beat Trevor's record of 9 1/2 months! I think she's got a good chance of that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawling under the table...just like her brothers before her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrhg_BaI/AAAAAAAABb0/suOB3sPKn3Q/s1600-h/DSC01347.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrhg_BaI/AAAAAAAABb0/suOB3sPKn3Q/s320/DSC01347.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415662862527825314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And crawling under the Excer-Saucer....like her brothers before her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLO7dDU7I/AAAAAAAABbM/88qB-xjedTo/s1600-h/DSC01215.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLO7dDU7I/AAAAAAAABbM/88qB-xjedTo/s320/DSC01215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415661271762817970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pulling up on (and tasting) the table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLPfnG4WI/AAAAAAAABbU/0L7PF4j84GQ/s1600-h/DSC01241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLPfnG4WI/AAAAAAAABbU/0L7PF4j84GQ/s320/DSC01241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415661281468670306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now I can reach everything!"&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrC6NUQI/AAAAAAAABbs/C_UcmQZx85M/s1600-h/DSC01335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrC6NUQI/AAAAAAAABbs/C_UcmQZx85M/s320/DSC01335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415662854312120578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look Mom, one hand!"&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLPi-UDMI/AAAAAAAABbc/8BJ2fQnC7rw/s1600-h/DSC01311.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLPi-UDMI/AAAAAAAABbc/8BJ2fQnC7rw/s320/DSC01311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415661282371308738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past month was also Izzy's first plane ride, and first visit to Delaware.  She was great on the plane.  On the ride there she was such the entertainer of all the people sitting around us and was just great.  And on the ride home, she slept the entire ride and so did I!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanging out with Pa-Hugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrwkLXcI/AAAAAAAABb8/wHchPknDzQg/s1600-h/DSC01192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrwkLXcI/AAAAAAAABb8/wHchPknDzQg/s320/DSC01192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415662866567749058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also got to experience her first trip to the Christmas tree farm.  Again, she had a great time and was a perfect angel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLN3DmkmI/AAAAAAAABa8/qfZKNpRRvCE/s1600-h/DSC01259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLN3DmkmI/AAAAAAAABa8/qfZKNpRRvCE/s320/DSC01259.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415661253402464866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's still a happy girl 99% of the time!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLOORVayI/AAAAAAAABbE/m3u6c1LJZPw/s1600-h/DSC01202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhLOORVayI/AAAAAAAABbE/m3u6c1LJZPw/s320/DSC01202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415661259634076450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And she loves her brother!  Especially now she can 'walk' with him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMqydtzNI/AAAAAAAABbk/-EIigmPlhqI/s1600-h/DSC01318.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMqydtzNI/AAAAAAAABbk/-EIigmPlhqI/s320/DSC01318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415662849897647314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My baby girl is growing up fast!  But she's doing a great job of it!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1028723255165824646?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1028723255165824646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1028723255165824646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1028723255165824646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1028723255165824646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/12/isabelle-8-months.html' title='Isabelle 8 Months'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SyhMrhg_BaI/AAAAAAAABb0/suOB3sPKn3Q/s72-c/DSC01347.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-153982019342380756</id><published>2009-11-30T20:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T20:20:43.540-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas Lists</title><content type='html'>For those who have asked, each of the kids has an Amazon Wish List (so do hubby and I), and I'll put the links below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just FYI, I use the wish list feature at Amazon because it's easy.  However, I don't believe they have the lowest prices on everything so if you plan to purchase, don't feel obligated to use Amazon, find a lower price somewhere else!  But if you do purchase somewhere else, please let me know what you bought for which kid, and I'll take it off the wish list so we don't get duplicates!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/MII48XT30S0K/ref=cm_wl_rlist_go"&gt;Trevor&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/BI06H917VXKU/ref=cm_wl_rlist_go"&gt;Blake&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/2RE670I532S3L/ref=cm_wl_rlist_go"&gt;Isabelle&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/32T4PULLTHZQP/ref=cm_wl_rlist_go"&gt;Me&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/227GBYOGW9IDJ/ref=cm_wl_rlist_go"&gt;Me &amp;amp; Hubby&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the sizes all 3 kids are wearing are listed under their pics on the right side of the blog.  Honestly, the boys don't really need any clothes at the moment.  Izzy is quickly growing out of 9m things, so anything winter 12m would be great (clothes and jammies).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-153982019342380756?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/153982019342380756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=153982019342380756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/153982019342380756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/153982019342380756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/11/christmas-lists.html' title='Christmas Lists'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8501265644855704167</id><published>2009-11-15T20:06:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:37:53.509-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>7, 7, 7 months....ha ha ha ha ha!</title><content type='html'>Another month has flown by.  Where has the time gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy's pretty much mastered sitting and LOVES it!  I'm sure she enjoys the new and better view of all her brothers antics.  She sits and plays with all kinds of toys for ages, until she tips over, and the she's off around the room.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYGyq2mtI/AAAAAAAABaU/h_lOy1ME0UM/s1600/DSC01088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYGyq2mtI/AAAAAAAABaU/h_lOy1ME0UM/s320/DSC01088.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404909007757810386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYHkPXM-I/AAAAAAAABak/tP_lT9U3BY8/s1600/DSC01137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYHkPXM-I/AAAAAAAABak/tP_lT9U3BY8/s320/DSC01137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404909021064279010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's great at getting around the room via rolling, scooting, and a modified army crawl.  She also gets up on her knees and rocks back and forth for ever... it's only a matter of (short) time until she gets the "real" crawl figured out. Turn your back for 2 minutes and you might find her under the kitchen table or heading for the front door!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwC8HBI-nXI/AAAAAAAABaM/_QmSpAzARCI/s1600/DSC01081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwC8HBI-nXI/AAAAAAAABaM/_QmSpAzARCI/s320/DSC01081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404526381595794802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've continued to try lots of new foods, including: sweet potatoes, peas, pears, oatmeal, and butternut squash.  She loves them all (well, the peas are a strech!) and has come to like the applesauce too (with a little sugar in it!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwC8GgSnc5I/AAAAAAAABaE/mMy9SQ7eJEU/s1600/DSC00906.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwC8GgSnc5I/AAAAAAAABaE/mMy9SQ7eJEU/s320/DSC00906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404526372777849746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She's also discovered mirrors and thinks the baby in the mirror is lots of fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYHf_dogI/AAAAAAAABac/D8_bc1pOtW8/s1600/DSC01102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYHf_dogI/AAAAAAAABac/D8_bc1pOtW8/s320/DSC01102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404909019923849730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still loves big brother T, and he LOVES her!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYIJsHLGI/AAAAAAAABas/H8mIUsCXlEc/s1600/DSC01144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYIJsHLGI/AAAAAAAABas/H8mIUsCXlEc/s320/DSC01144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404909031116975202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's up to 17 pounds now and seems to be growing like a weed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYIcTlEoI/AAAAAAAABa0/2Kp4T7Jtneg/s1600/DSC01154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYIcTlEoI/AAAAAAAABa0/2Kp4T7Jtneg/s320/DSC01154.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404909036114350722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's generally one happy, quiet baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8501265644855704167?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8501265644855704167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8501265644855704167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8501265644855704167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8501265644855704167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/11/7-7-7-monthsha-ha-ha-ha-ha.html' title='7, 7, 7 months....ha ha ha ha ha!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SwIYGyq2mtI/AAAAAAAABaU/h_lOy1ME0UM/s72-c/DSC01088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7139630442112591587</id><published>2009-11-08T20:59:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T21:04:22.514-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carseats'/><title type='text'>Great Deal on a Britax Frontier</title><content type='html'>I've become very attached to my car seats. In fact, I'm very unwilling to let my kids go anywhere without being in a 5-point harness. Why do I require my 5 1/2 year old to still sit in a 5-point harness and not a booster?? I mean, the booster would be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SO&lt;/span&gt; much easier for me to move from car to car, and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SO &lt;/span&gt;much easier for the boys to buckle themselves into, and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SO &lt;/span&gt;much easier to fit into my car and still have room for other people,  and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SO&lt;/span&gt; much cheaper. (Where is that sarcasm font when I need it??).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's why... &lt;a href="http://www.kyledavidmiller.org/"&gt;Kyle David Miller.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no, I'm not buying a booster seat any time soon.  Get over it!! But I'm still also a &lt;s&gt;cheap-ass&lt;/s&gt; very frugal person. So when a friend told me about a way to get a Britax Frontier car seat for a great price (I think it's close to 45% off!!!) how could I resist. And I thought I would share with you! Here's what you do:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Frontier is currently on sale at Amazon for $195. &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Britax-Frontier-Booster-Seat-Rushmore/dp/B001NPD72Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=baby-products&amp;amp;qid=1257735417&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt; Go to the site &lt;/a&gt;and print out the price. (Frontier in Rushmore, or choose Red Rock, Canyon, or Sahara).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Take the printout to Bed Bath &amp;amp; Beyond and have them price match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Use a 20% off coupon to get the price down to $156.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case, they didn't have the seats in stock, so they were glad to order it for me and ship it to my home. I've heard it's possible you'll have to play shipping which is $16. Total = $156 + tax if they waive shipping, or $172 + tax with shipping fee.  Original price $279.99 + tax&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now Blake has a fabulous new car seat, and Izzy will soon be residing in his Britax Boulevard, rear facing, until she's probably 3 (or reaches the weight limit of the seat).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go get a good deal and keep your kid safe for longer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7139630442112591587?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7139630442112591587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7139630442112591587' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7139630442112591587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7139630442112591587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/11/great-deal-on-britax-frontier.html' title='Great Deal on a Britax Frontier'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-17503259416708479</id><published>2009-11-07T14:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T14:26:46.962-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pregnant'/><title type='text'>Success?</title><content type='html'>Wednesday morning I visited the local hospital for a routine follow-up.  Yes, my routine follow-up was at the hospital.  That's because it was a follow-up to confirm that the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Essure"&gt;Essure&lt;/a&gt; procedure I had done in July worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you, who don't or won't click on the link above, the Essure procedure has ended my ability to get pregnant.  Yup, the inn is closed, the hotel is out of business, no more babies are living in this body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went to the hospital, met my midwives there (gosh I love those gals!) and got set up for the test.  The radiologist who performed the follow-up, came in, took a lot at the x-ray screen, and said, "Success!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as I drove home, it made me start to think. Yes, hubby and I talked about this procedure, and planned it, and it was not a surprise.  We've planned for years to have 3 children and no more.  I'm very content and happy with our family just the way it is.   And I'm thrilled not to have to think about birth control or worry about accidental pregnancies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was definitely interesting to hear the radiologist say "Success!".  I've successfully ended my abilbity to get pregnant and bear children.   And yet, I still know SO many people who would give anything to have the success of getting pregnant.    I could wish that me taking my name out of the proverbial hat would increase their chances....but sadly, I don't think that really has any impact at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I could still be a surrogate.....and maybe I will one day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-17503259416708479?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/17503259416708479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=17503259416708479' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/17503259416708479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/17503259416708479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/11/success.html' title='Success?'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7711327504123247299</id><published>2009-11-02T22:05:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T22:23:04.987-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Halloween in Pictures</title><content type='html'>For those who may not know.... Mario Brothers. Or more correctly, Mario Kart Wii.  In which, Mario, Luigi and numerous other characters drive race cars on various tracks.  It's the boys new favorite game, and it became the halloween theme! So Trev &amp;amp; Blake are Mario &amp;amp; Luigi, that much was easy. I became Princess Peach, since I knew I had easy access to a dress (she was the princess in the castle at the end of the original Mario Brothers game).  And in Mario Kart there are banana peels on the race course that make the cars spin out.  So Izzy became a banana to fit in with the family theme!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luigi (Blake) &amp;amp; Mario (Trevor)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-stlYPo3I/AAAAAAAABYo/F-5_6pCPE4U/s1600-h/DSC00832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-stlYPo3I/AAAAAAAABYo/F-5_6pCPE4U/s320/DSC00832.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399724377368404850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luigi, Baby Banana, &amp;amp; Mario&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-suQR7nAI/AAAAAAAABY4/J-qvRnV67-8/s1600-h/DSC00913.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-suQR7nAI/AAAAAAAABY4/J-qvRnV67-8/s320/DSC00913.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399724388884651010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Princess Peach &amp;amp; Baby Banana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-suDq3rHI/AAAAAAAABYw/iSwHyRIWc9U/s1600-h/DSC00910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-suDq3rHI/AAAAAAAABYw/iSwHyRIWc9U/s320/DSC00910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399724385499589746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake had a halloween party at preschool.  He was super excited and had a great time.  Here's a picture of all the kids.  I think the R2-D2 costume was my favorite (standing on the left) but his hat/head was too heavy for him to wear without his mom holding it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-su-rmWFI/AAAAAAAABZA/ZYiJLOn3N-o/s1600-h/DSC00952.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-su-rmWFI/AAAAAAAABZA/ZYiJLOn3N-o/s320/DSC00952.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399724401340340306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the party, they played lots of games and sang songs.  Here's Blake and our friend Maddie.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-svRtcZ2I/AAAAAAAABZI/Lkm-rcGi_DQ/s1600-h/DSC00991.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-svRtcZ2I/AAAAAAAABZI/Lkm-rcGi_DQ/s320/DSC00991.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399724406448351074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Blake's favorite part of the party was definetly snack time... followed closely by the goody bags!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t7J_aAbI/AAAAAAAABZw/fOo-I5xTzMo/s1600-h/DSC00998.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t7J_aAbI/AAAAAAAABZw/fOo-I5xTzMo/s320/DSC00998.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399725710046265778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Friday, Trevor had his class party.  More games, singing, stories, and treats!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t64B7kQI/AAAAAAAABZo/UI69B832Z7M/s1600-h/DSC01007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t64B7kQI/AAAAAAAABZo/UI69B832Z7M/s320/DSC01007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399725705225015554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On Saturday, we carved pumpkins before going trick or treating.  Turns out the pumkins had REALLY tough skins, so Daddy needed to use his Roto-Zip to carve the designs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t6VdSuLI/AAAAAAAABZg/eGeJo_6fzrs/s1600-h/DSC01054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t6VdSuLI/AAAAAAAABZg/eGeJo_6fzrs/s320/DSC01054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399725695944538290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But they turned out just fine anyway!  This is Blakes original creation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t6IuG-gI/AAAAAAAABZY/nC3Zr-rfzgc/s1600-h/DSC01070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t6IuG-gI/AAAAAAAABZY/nC3Zr-rfzgc/s320/DSC01070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399725692525410818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And Trevor's one-eye'd creation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t5ry5YeI/AAAAAAAABZQ/9w8ytnr_3W8/s1600-h/DSC01071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-t5ry5YeI/AAAAAAAABZQ/9w8ytnr_3W8/s320/DSC01071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399725684760863202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a crazy, happy, busy, fun, wonderful Halloween!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7711327504123247299?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7711327504123247299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7711327504123247299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7711327504123247299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7711327504123247299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween-in-pictures.html' title='Halloween in Pictures'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Su-stlYPo3I/AAAAAAAABYo/F-5_6pCPE4U/s72-c/DSC00832.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7783834703328941634</id><published>2009-10-26T22:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T22:53:43.922-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Izzy's New Tricks</title><content type='html'>While Izzy has enjoyed cereal, bananas, and avocado.  Her reaction to applesauce was not quite the same.  While there's no sound to this video (darn camera has a fritzy sound card), her facial expressions are what matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d16a5a869065fc8e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd16a5a869065fc8e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D86368491C4D74BD59374F2047E20E9360F184D6B.370DF98BE1E93719CC2F3C07CC88B02115B912FB%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd16a5a869065fc8e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dwx4M4bqfPLHo2K_Qg1nHVDz1ONw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd16a5a869065fc8e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D86368491C4D74BD59374F2047E20E9360F184D6B.370DF98BE1E93719CC2F3C07CC88B02115B912FB%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd16a5a869065fc8e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dwx4M4bqfPLHo2K_Qg1nHVDz1ONw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the problem is.... I made a billion batches of baby applesauce since we went apple picking.  So, she's gonna have to learn to like it!!  Maybe I should add some sugar to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's her new skill...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took her afternoon nap, and when she woke up we went to get photos taken at Sears.  I take her out of the car seat, the photographer takes one look at her, and she waves at her.  And keeps waving through the whole photo shoot!  It was too cute!  And she waved at Daddy when we got home.  So, here it is, on video.  The best one is at the end, she was waving back at me as I took the video.  Again, no sound, but not really important!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e694b08335888db" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0e694b08335888db%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7B2DEA5E3D0363FA03AC0288690E87ABFD33107D.18B1193D6AA426E8CAE2568595FB0726126ECC78%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De694b08335888db%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D5-R5i6XWI_0qLdoB67D3GFkdQNA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0e694b08335888db%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7B2DEA5E3D0363FA03AC0288690E87ABFD33107D.18B1193D6AA426E8CAE2568595FB0726126ECC78%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De694b08335888db%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D5-R5i6XWI_0qLdoB67D3GFkdQNA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What trick should we teach her next???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7783834703328941634?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7783834703328941634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7783834703328941634' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7783834703328941634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7783834703328941634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/10/izzys-new-tricks.html' title='Izzy&apos;s New Tricks'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3653702395086323552</id><published>2009-10-15T08:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T08:09:17.339-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Half a year!!!</title><content type='html'>She's half a year old. Wow! It's been an awesome 6 months, and I'm excited for the next 6. I can't imagine what she'll be doing by her 1st birthday. As it is, she's already hit some awesome milestones in half a year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of September, I went on a 4-day vacation.  The result, Izzy can hold her own bottle.  No work for Daddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGrlHVBcI/AAAAAAAABXg/OVTIU0rhh8U/s1600-h/DSC00666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGrlHVBcI/AAAAAAAABXg/OVTIU0rhh8U/s320/DSC00666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392645687078094274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And...now she likes to play with her(empty) pirate sippy cup.  "Yo Ho Ho and a bottle of milk!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGq8BPo8I/AAAAAAAABXY/6BmXVm24W9A/s1600-h/DSC00661+%283%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGq8BPo8I/AAAAAAAABXY/6BmXVm24W9A/s320/DSC00661+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392645676046721986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She's been working on her sitting, when a toy is present.   She can only stay about a minute on her own, but she's getting better and better at it.  The biggest problem is she'd rather stand than sit, so she doesn't get much practice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGsUQOd2I/AAAAAAAABXo/-yGXjgB6tNw/s1600-h/DSC00673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGsUQOd2I/AAAAAAAABXo/-yGXjgB6tNw/s320/DSC00673.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392645699731879778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She's also become a punpkin' head in honor of the season, and made her first pilgrimage to the apple orchard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGtKdURYI/AAAAAAAABXw/2qTQAuf62pk/s1600-h/DSC00698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGtKdURYI/AAAAAAAABXw/2qTQAuf62pk/s320/DSC00698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392645714282300802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;About 5 days ago, we introduced Izzy to "real" food.  She's been happy and growing well with just breast milk, but she's also shown a GREAT interest in table food.  She practically pulled my dinner into her lap the other day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaI-uk-kBI/AAAAAAAABYA/LhzkZiG0T_s/s1600-h/DSC00735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaI-uk-kBI/AAAAAAAABYA/LhzkZiG0T_s/s320/DSC00735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392648215059140626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So far she's had, cereal, bananas, and avocado... and she loves them all!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaI_fQacSI/AAAAAAAABYI/8ErQUq7ZS6Q/s1600-h/DSC00740+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaI_fQacSI/AAAAAAAABYI/8ErQUq7ZS6Q/s320/DSC00740+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392648228126224674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She's figuring out how to get around, and therefore we've had to re-baby-proof the living room.  The boys are learning how to share their toys with her, and learning what she can and can't have.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaJAFFlPdI/AAAAAAAABYQ/bWRVK3BWGYk/s1600-h/DSC00750.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaJAFFlPdI/AAAAAAAABYQ/bWRVK3BWGYk/s320/DSC00750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392648238281342418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                        "My First Tonka" by Izzy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, she's a punkin' head, and also apparently starting to model for the camera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaJAvSmjCI/AAAAAAAABYY/TSIuHVr-C4g/s1600-h/DSC00773.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaJAvSmjCI/AAAAAAAABYY/TSIuHVr-C4g/s320/DSC00773.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392648249610243106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                 "Wickedly Adorable"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I mentioned, she's figuring how to get around.  No, not crawling, but what we have now dubbed the "scoot and roll".  She rolls over and over, and also will scoot on her back, by arching up.  The movie below will demonstrate it much better than I can describe it in words.  But this picture, this is for my Mother.  Who I'm sure can find an identical picture of me (possibly sans diaper) from 33 1/2 years ago.  Right, Mother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaJBW7V08I/AAAAAAAABYg/iYjyYzlvMgE/s1600-h/DSC00793.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaJBW7V08I/AAAAAAAABYg/iYjyYzlvMgE/s320/DSC00793.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392648260250096578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Izzy's scoot and roll video...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-667494251ea26b1" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0667494251ea26b1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D130A626DF6BB39AC69FF9498F8FD3DE80971B458.841236AB8ABFE63EC6FE90C303AB95F4492201F5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D667494251ea26b1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMmz7bFZ5f1rn1Dr9peToqbLgrgE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0667494251ea26b1%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D130A626DF6BB39AC69FF9498F8FD3DE80971B458.841236AB8ABFE63EC6FE90C303AB95F4492201F5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D667494251ea26b1%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMmz7bFZ5f1rn1Dr9peToqbLgrgE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, she's come a long way in 6 months.  And while I'm sad the time seems to be going SO fast, she's at a super fun age and stage right now and it's so fun to see her personality starting to show!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3653702395086323552?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3653702395086323552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3653702395086323552' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3653702395086323552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3653702395086323552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/10/half-year.html' title='Half a year!!!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StaGrlHVBcI/AAAAAAAABXg/OVTIU0rhh8U/s72-c/DSC00666.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3093665940353984883</id><published>2009-10-13T13:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T14:09:49.557-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apples'/><title type='text'>Daddy Apples and Baby Apples!</title><content type='html'>Last week &lt;s&gt;the boys&lt;/s&gt; the kids (damn, I have to stop doing that!)  and I, and a friend and her kids went apple picking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO18F2T5I/AAAAAAAABWo/lywZvq_mfn4/s1600-h/DSC00696.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO18F2T5I/AAAAAAAABWo/lywZvq_mfn4/s320/DSC00696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392162079928373138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has become an annual tradition, and the two of ALWAYS go apple picking together.   We got lucky with wonderful weather, nice and cool, but very sunny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO2Uw-f-I/AAAAAAAABWw/kyMXCU6d98o/s1600-h/DSC00702.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO2Uw-f-I/AAAAAAAABWw/kyMXCU6d98o/s320/DSC00702.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392162086551715810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We reminisced about years past.... how last year, while in the midst of picking apples, she figured out that I was pregnant but not publicizing it yet! (We were there with other friends, and I SWORE her to secrecy!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO3A_3fFI/AAAAAAAABW4/3do9ZBQ4w_g/s1600-h/DSC00706.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO3A_3fFI/AAAAAAAABW4/3do9ZBQ4w_g/s320/DSC00706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392162098425330770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Since then I've been making applesauce for Izzy, and today we made Raspberry Applesauce for the boys.  (Since we have at least 10 gallon bags of raspberries in the freezer from this summer, from our bushes!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO3rGPKAI/AAAAAAAABXA/5e9-skkLx_A/s1600-h/DSC00710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO3rGPKAI/AAAAAAAABXA/5e9-skkLx_A/s320/DSC00710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392162109726337026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As we made applesauce this afternoon: I was peeling, and the boys were measuring. The apples that weren't peeled yet, were waiting patiently in line (as the boys "asked" them to do), in order from smallest to largest.  One of the smallest apples suddenly started talking to the Daddy apple (way in the back of the line), "Daddy, Daddy.... save me!  I don't want to get killed [peeled].  I don't want to have my heart cut out [get cored].  Save me!  SAAAAAAVVVVVEEEEE  MMMMMMEEEEE!!!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO4RWhE8I/AAAAAAAABXI/aKPC1G22n1s/s1600-h/DSC00721.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO4RWhE8I/AAAAAAAABXI/aKPC1G22n1s/s320/DSC00721.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392162119995167682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Boys!!!!  Seriously, where do they come up with this stuff!!!  Gotta love it!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3093665940353984883?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3093665940353984883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3093665940353984883' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3093665940353984883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3093665940353984883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/10/daddy-apples-and-baby-apples.html' title='Daddy Apples and Baby Apples!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/StTO18F2T5I/AAAAAAAABWo/lywZvq_mfn4/s72-c/DSC00696.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-283531361750207397</id><published>2009-09-27T20:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T20:30:21.692-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Shamless Plea for Fundraising Orders</title><content type='html'>Trevor's in kindergarten and really enjoying it!  Of course, now it's time for the annual school fundraiser.  You know, the catalog of goodies that you can order from and his school makes money.  So here I am, blogging about it.  Can you guess what I'm going to say next???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, he'd love to have your support.  It's run by Market Day, and while I don't work for them anymore, I know the products are all top quality, from top name vendors.  If there is any issue with any item, just return it for a complete refund, or contact me and I'll help you take care of the problem.  This is an easy way to get a head start on your Holiday shopping, while giving support to education too.  Approximately 45-50% of the profits of this sale, will go right back to Trevor's school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The items that are for sale can be found online &lt;a href="http://www.marketdayfundraising.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.  Once at that page enter the Sale ID:&lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 255, 0);"&gt;207827&lt;/span&gt;.  You'll see a screen telling you that you're ordering for &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"&gt;Spring Grove Elementary School&lt;/span&gt;.  Orders are due by Thursday 10/22 at 10 pm.  Click the Select button, and start shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you've filled your shopping cart, you can choose to have the products shipped to Trevor's school, or straight to your home address (shipping charges will apply).  If you live around us, please feel free to ship them to the school.  Just let me know and I'll gladly pick them up for you and coordinate delivery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During checkout (when you're completing your order), you'll have a chance to give the credit directly to Trevor for your order.  During "Step 2 Billing", at the bottom of the screen, complete the Sellers information as follows:&lt;br /&gt;Seller First Name:  Trevor&lt;br /&gt;Seller Last Name:  Kappel&lt;br /&gt;Seller Order Form ID: 1648698&lt;br /&gt;Seller Phone #: 815-675-9673&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-283531361750207397?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/283531361750207397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=283531361750207397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/283531361750207397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/283531361750207397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/shamless-plea-for-fundraising-orders.html' title='Shamless Plea for Fundraising Orders'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-3045796034338455763</id><published>2009-09-23T09:48:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T10:05:49.831-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacations'/><title type='text'>Cruise by the numbers</title><content type='html'>Miles traveled: at least 3,600 (ha ha, it's 1700+ to fly to San Diego, and only 68 as the crow flies from San Diego to Ensenada....our destination!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towel animals in room: 2 (elephant and snake)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meals that involved shrimp, lobster, or steak: 6 I think.....none of that good stuff at breakfast, but I had Eggs Benedict instead!  Yum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suitcases almost stolen by another shuttle passenger: 1  (more details in a separate post!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adult beverages enjoyed:  at least 5.... they were WAY too expensive on the boat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steps taken per day: about 8,000 according to Gina's pedometer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stores visited: about 50...between San Diego and Ensenada...good shopping!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gifts purchased for others: 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Items purchased for myself: 1 (a calendar/planner-gawd how boring am I???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dollars spent in cruise spa:  $150 for a haircut, style, and pedicure   (this HAS to offset the stat above it, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deck chairs sat in: 7 or 8, each for at least 2 hours!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times I thought about the kids and wished I was home instead of on the cruise:  ZERO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bags of frozen milk still left in the freezer when I got home: 7..... yay me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stories, laughs, and good times had with the girls:  Countless and Priceless!  It was an awesome trip!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-3045796034338455763?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/3045796034338455763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=3045796034338455763' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3045796034338455763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/3045796034338455763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/cruise-by-numbers.html' title='Cruise by the numbers'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2684686618849459075</id><published>2009-09-16T21:25:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T22:22:39.042-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Is it here yet?</title><content type='html'>Before I begin the important part of this post, I must tell you a background item.   After T's birthday, we returned a duplicate gift, and waited for it's replacement (a Dragon Fortress).  The replacement took close to a month to arrive due to processing issues, it arrived just after our camping trip in August.  The boys were VERY anxious to receive the fortress and asked about it daily.  Apparently I was not always polite and anxious to deal with their questions!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay....now back to the real post....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T &amp;amp; B are really good at creative, imaginative play.   A lot of the credit for this, I must give to Grandma.  During her many days of babysitting while I was at work, she had the kids playing some of the craziest games that she or they invented.  Games like, "camping", "gingerbread boys", "motorcycle rides", "christmas trees" and many more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I encountered them playing a very drawn out, invented scenario by themselves...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They built a house using various blocks we have in the house, and the house had a lovely garden of trees and flowers.  In this house, lived Batman and Robin (the little action figures that we have).  For a while, Batman and Robin played happily at home in their garden and in their hosue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Often, Robin would ask Batman, "Is the Dragon Fortress here?" and Batman would reply "No". And Robin would ask Batman, "Is the Dragon Fortress here?" and Batman would reply "No".  Over and over again.  Robin continued to ask about the dragon fortress, and after a while, Batman's response would get ruder and ruder, and then one time Batman responded, "NO! NOW SHUT UP AND DON'T ASK ABOUT IT AGAIN!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they decided to go camping.  After lots of packing of various items from their toy kitchen/grocery store, B &amp;amp; R went off camping by the fish tank (in the front room).  They camped for 3 days and 2 nights, but had to stop camping and come eat in a restaurant (have lunch-Mommy insisted) during their trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After camping, B &amp;amp; R came home, to find a large box (2 boxes from an Elmo construction set) in front of their house. B &amp;amp; R opened the box to discover a Dragon Fortress inside.  And Robin turned to Batman and said, "Yay it's here!  Now you never have to yell at me again!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Batman &amp;amp; Robin lived happily ever after and there was no more yelling!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2684686618849459075?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2684686618849459075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2684686618849459075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2684686618849459075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2684686618849459075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/is-it-here-yet.html' title='Is it here yet?'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1505703884088461388</id><published>2009-09-15T08:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T10:42:36.849-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Isabelle-Chapter 5</title><content type='html'>Seriously, she's 5 months old!  Holy cow!  Okay, I know that sounds cliche, but I honestly don't know where the time has gone.  I'm trying SO hard to appreciate every day, and snuggle and cuddle her as much as possible, and enjoy her being a baby before it's gone, because she IS the last, but somehow the time is still flying!  (Sorry, that was a really long sentence!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-BdeuEI/AAAAAAAABVE/pLnedGbWZhU/s1600-h/DSC00341+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-BdeuEI/AAAAAAAABVE/pLnedGbWZhU/s320/DSC00341+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521145275004994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, she's at a REALLY fun stage right now.  She's so strong, she holds her head up and loves to be tossed in the air and shaken up (gently, no shaken baby syndrome here I promise!).  Both those things make her giggle.  But her giggle is silent!  You can see the laugh on her face, in her eyes, and her mouth is open wide, but rarely does she make any noise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8C9lWO0FI/AAAAAAAABVU/AevRnGVVzo0/s1600-h/DSC00202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8C9lWO0FI/AAAAAAAABVU/AevRnGVVzo0/s320/DSC00202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381523336751665234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact she's really quiet a lot of the time.  Yes, she'll babble and talk if there's someone (aka Trevor or Blake) to talk to, but much of the time, she just wants to sit and watch and stare and smile.    When she starts to make a "lot" of noise for an extended period, that usually means she tired, hungry, or has a dirty diaper (or all three!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-llnIdI/AAAAAAAABVM/MuFKX9BY1So/s1600-h/DSC00343+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-llnIdI/AAAAAAAABVM/MuFKX9BY1So/s320/DSC00343+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521154972787154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While she first learned to roll over two months ago, now she does it with regularity and purpose.  She does it when she wants to, and so she can see stuff.    She can really get her head and chest way up off the ground now, pushing with her arms.  So now she has a really great view of things going on in the room when she does roll over, and she loves it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFaFAmntI/AAAAAAAABWU/ugBczktxgaw/s1600-h/DSC00394+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFaFAmntI/AAAAAAAABWU/ugBczktxgaw/s320/DSC00394+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382088975263899346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-BdeuEI/AAAAAAAABVE/pLnedGbWZhU/s1600-h/DSC00341+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-BdeuEI/AAAAAAAABVE/pLnedGbWZhU/s320/DSC00341+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521145275004994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've really gotten into the &lt;a href="http://www.babylegs.com/"&gt;BabyLegs&lt;/a&gt;....so cute and so fun! (and so nice for the cool mornings in this weird summer/fall weather!)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFYntf-wI/AAAAAAAABWE/_zp1v8_JedE/s1600-h/DSC00368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFYntf-wI/AAAAAAAABWE/_zp1v8_JedE/s320/DSC00368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382088950219275010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A9YyH-xI/AAAAAAAABU8/SkfJ4GzbxY8/s1600-h/DSC00279.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A9YyH-xI/AAAAAAAABU8/SkfJ4GzbxY8/s320/DSC00279.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521134355741458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's also getting very good at picking up toys and moving them from hand to hand.  In general, she loves to reach and grab for anything she can see....including, my hair, my shirt, Daddy's beer, my lunch (she went for my roast beef on white today!).  I'm hoping she'll soon start pushing the boys away when they give her a little too much love!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A8CPkSCI/AAAAAAAABUs/cCm-_k6DF0w/s1600-h/DSC00162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A8CPkSCI/AAAAAAAABUs/cCm-_k6DF0w/s320/DSC00162.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521111125346338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pirate Izzy (courtesy of Trevor!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFZo1MSMI/AAAAAAAABWM/QchQFMTnH1o/s1600-h/DSC00374+%283%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFZo1MSMI/AAAAAAAABWM/QchQFMTnH1o/s320/DSC00374+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382088967699843266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She seems to have figured out things to help her sooth herself t0 sleep.  She now loves her nuk (pacifier) and blanket and music machine, and once she has those in her DARK room, she roll on her side into the corner of the crib and sleep!  Bingo!  Of course, it's not that easy... if she falls asleep for 20-30 minutes in the car seat, she wake up when we get home and think she's done with napping....no going back to sleep for her!  But at least she wakes up happy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8C-Bfv6EI/AAAAAAAABVc/QpjVSGISwpI/s1600-h/DSC00270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8C-Bfv6EI/AAAAAAAABVc/QpjVSGISwpI/s320/DSC00270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381523344307775554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFYG2_tNI/AAAAAAAABV8/xOFv1U4Lemk/s1600-h/DSC00347+%282%29+c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SrEFYG2_tNI/AAAAAAAABV8/xOFv1U4Lemk/s320/DSC00347+%282%29+c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382088941400732882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As I look at all the photos of her, with the boys, I see traits in her that look like both Blake (the nose) and Trevor (the eyes).  I'm curious to see who she'll end up looking most like, but then again what's the point.  Both boys looked so similar when they were very young (under 3 months) that I can't always tell which picture is of who!  And, ultimately, she's going to look like herself....which is just fine with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A87GGVFI/AAAAAAAABU0/yNJL8ia_oq8/s1600-h/DSC00228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A87GGVFI/AAAAAAAABU0/yNJL8ia_oq8/s320/DSC00228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381521126386455634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1505703884088461388?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1505703884088461388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1505703884088461388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1505703884088461388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1505703884088461388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/isabelle-chapter-5.html' title='Isabelle-Chapter 5'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sq8A-BdeuEI/AAAAAAAABVE/pLnedGbWZhU/s72-c/DSC00341+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5945314444598451276</id><published>2009-09-11T20:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T20:35:56.541-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peer pressure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bikes'/><title type='text'>HAPPY Friday!</title><content type='html'>Wow....what a really awesome day it was around here!!! Which is a really nice contrast to the semi-crummy week we've had (whiny, disobedient children).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started off with low expectations.  Trev and Izzy have slowly been showing signs of a cold, and this morning I woke up with a scratchy throat and stuffy nose.  Some zinc drops and echinacea tea have helped me feel better, and hopefully I'm beating the cold!  Daddy didn't sleep well the night before so he worked from home to get an extra hour of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor went off to school, Blake Izzy and I laid low and hung out around the house.  After Izzy's nap we headed to the resale store to drop off some stuff and get 1 item....a winter coat for T.  Initially I was ticked, as they were no longer accepting donations for the day.  But then I hit the jackpot and found a great coat for T, and Izzy's Halloween costume.  She's going to be a banana, which goes along with the boys costumes....but I'm keeping those a secret!  I also got a winter coat for her, and jammies for Blake.  Very successful trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the afternoon doing much of nothing.  The boys played hot wheels and legos,  Izzy napped and I even snuck in a short nap!  After that, Daddy 'commuted' home from the office upstairs, and we all spent some time outside.  Blake decided to practice riding his bike, and he's gotten really good in a week!  He made it up and down the driveway a handful of times, turned around at the bottom on his own, and didn't need a push up the slight incline coming back up the drive!!!  Most of all, he was excited and happy about doing it and wanted to ride.  We even managed a ride down the street to the cornfield!!!  We'll be going round the block soon!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Trevor has spend the last week whining about not wanting to ride his bike.  Not even the removal of Wii priveledges has enticed him to ride.  Wow!  Today, we eventually got him on the bike.  How?  By agreeing to put 1 training wheel on....yes one.  He rode and rode and rode....with Daddy by his side the whole time.  About 5 runs on the driveway, and then it was out to the street for a few laps up and down, and eventually a long ride down to the cornfield.  Daddy sure got a running workout today!!!  And he loved it, and he's ready to do 20 more laps tomorrow so he says!!!  I'm just glad we got him back on the darn bike!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that is good, great even.  But the high point of the night was actually a surprise.  At about 5:30 a neighbor kid, E, showed up to play with T.  Last year they went to preschool together and were good friends for a while, but things have changed.    E wants to ride bikes around the block or go back to his house.  I'm not okay with this as I think they need a little more supervision than they would get at E's house.  E doesn't seem to like our house rules (like no Wii at 1:30 in the afternoon on a beautiful summer day) and doesn't seem to want Blake around playing with them, which is what B and T are VERY used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....E showed up, T went out to play with him, with the instructions to play in the backyard.  Well, they never made it to the backyard.  E wouldn't go.  He kept trying to get Trev out on his bike, to the point that he was trying to force open our garage door to get T's bike out!!  T kept telling him no, I want to play in the back yard, but no dice.  The back and forth played out for 15 minutes.  At times, we could see (as we peeked out the window at them) T getting visibly upset at E, the body language was obvious.  T would keep starting to come inside, and then something would be said and he'd go back again and try talking to E.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last straw was when E picked up some rocks from our garden (decorative ones) and started throwing them out into the street.  T told him not to do it, and E wouldn't listen.  T was SO upset, and started crying.  So Daddy went out to bail him out and ask E not to do that anymore.  T asked E to go home, and when Daddy repeated it, he finally went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why is this the high point of my great day???  Because when push came to shove, when between a rock and a hard place, Trevor knew what the right and good choices were and he stuck to them.  I don't think he called E any names, or said many bad words, he never tried to push him (like he does to Blake often!) and he stood up for what he wanted and didn't want to do, and held his ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after talking to Daddy and I for a while after E went home, I think he really understands that we are proud of him for making good choices and for standing up for himself!!!  My little boy is really growing up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5945314444598451276?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5945314444598451276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5945314444598451276' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5945314444598451276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5945314444598451276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-friday.html' title='HAPPY Friday!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-4087735184626268383</id><published>2009-09-08T23:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T23:21:07.694-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='linda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sad'/><title type='text'>Sad</title><content type='html'>Look up &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sad&lt;/span&gt; on thesaurus.com and here's what you get:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;bereaved, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/bitter"&gt;bitter&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/blue"&gt;blue&lt;/a&gt;*, cheerless, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/dejected"&gt;dejected&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/despairing"&gt;despairing&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/despondent"&gt;despondent&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/disconsolate"&gt;disconsolate&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/dismal"&gt;dismal&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/distressed"&gt;distressed&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/doleful"&gt;doleful&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/down"&gt;down&lt;/a&gt;, down in dumps, down in mouth, downcast, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/forlorn"&gt;forlorn&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/gloomy"&gt;gloomy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/glum"&gt;glum&lt;/a&gt;, grief-stricken, grieved, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/heartbroken"&gt;heartbroken&lt;/a&gt;, heartsick, heavyhearted, hurting, in doldrums, in grief, in the dumps, languishing, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/low"&gt;low&lt;/a&gt;, low-spirited, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/lugubrious"&gt;lugubrious&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/melancholy"&gt;melancholy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/morbid"&gt;morbid&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/morose"&gt;morose&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/mournful"&gt;mournful&lt;/a&gt;, out of sorts, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/pensive"&gt;pensive&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/pessimistic"&gt;pessimistic&lt;/a&gt;, sick at heart, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/somber"&gt;somber&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/sorrowful"&gt;sorrowful&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/sorry"&gt;sorry&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/troubled"&gt;troubled&lt;/a&gt;, weeping, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/wistful"&gt;wistful&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a class="theColor" href="http://thesaurus.reference.com/browse/woebegone"&gt;woebegone&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;That pretty much covers it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max and Maria have been taken after only 19 weeks with their mother.  Their fragile hearts and bodies could not make it to join us in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you may say, "they are in a better place now".  But really, what would be so wrong with them being here and living a full and happy life with the two wonderful parents they would have had in Linda and Ron.  I think that would be a damn wonderful place for them to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you may say, "everything happens for a reason".  Really???  What on earth could be the reason?  Two people who have wished and hoped and prayed for a child for so long.  What reason could there be to put them through this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As another friend put it, " It’s times like these when I have trouble believing in a God."  Seriously....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent SO much of today holding my three babies close, and thinking of the one I lost.  Holding my kids and hugging and loving them and telling them I love them.  To the point, that Trevor asked me if he was in trouble, or if I was leaving on a trip! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my heart is so heavy for the loss, the unexplainable tragic loss that has happenend to one one my dearest friends and one of the kindest people I know.  So kind, she hates spiders but WILL NOT kill them.....she'll do whatever it takes (including almost dying) to save them and let them live, just not in her shower!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh how I wish I could do something....more than just "being a friend", even though I know that has quite a bit of value.  I just hate feeling so helpless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max &amp;amp; Maria, you are loved, sweet babies.  I miss you, even though I never knew you.  Linda &amp;amp; Ron, know that you are loved by SO many, and that we all want to help any way we can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-4087735184626268383?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/4087735184626268383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=4087735184626268383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4087735184626268383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/4087735184626268383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/sad.html' title='Sad'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1113399919068027594</id><published>2009-09-04T21:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T21:47:26.730-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bikes'/><title type='text'>Bikes</title><content type='html'>For his birthday, T got a new 18" bike.  He's ridden it about 2 times.  Since it has no training wheels, this is mostly my fault.  He needs my help to learn to ride it.  We've tried to practice, but with Izzy etc.  it's been tough to find time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we got out to practice while Iz slept.  T did great, when I finally convinced him to try.  Convincing him was not one of my better parental moments....it wasn't pretty!  But he got out there, and he did great!  He balanced and rode up and down the street with me letting go periodically.  Eventually he was going about 50 feet without me holding him.  Now to grow his confidence.  Of course, since I was holding him most of the time, there are no photos!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since T got a new bike, his old one became Blake's.  B seems to have no issue with hand-me-downs.  Things that were Trevor's are cool, no problem that they are old, used, etc.  So now he has a bike.  However, the issue still remains that B does not like to pedal.  He doesn't use pedals on his tricycle or his big wheel...instead he pushes on  the ground with his feet.  So I hoped and wished that he would suddenly want to pedal and use a big boy bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After more of the wonderful convincing skills by Mommy (I'm good at convincing reasonable people, but try reasoning with 3 and 5 year olds....its tough!), he agreed to ride up and down the driveway once.  He did it with lots of help....he's confused about which direction to push the pedals to go forwards.  But eventually we got there.  And today, up and down the driveway with almost no help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B on his "new" bike...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO5yxIIXI/AAAAAAAABUc/cUiD-WhHaLc/s1600-h/DSC00334.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO5yxIIXI/AAAAAAAABUc/cUiD-WhHaLc/s320/DSC00334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377806922332774770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO4zgWZDI/AAAAAAAABUU/V9ZO55-bqy8/s1600-h/DSC00332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO4zgWZDI/AAAAAAAABUU/V9ZO55-bqy8/s320/DSC00332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377806905350972466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;B's motivation... Trevor yelling "Blake come knock me down like a bowling pin!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO6jfodhI/AAAAAAAABUk/00QS0mjMYqI/s1600-h/DSC00337.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO6jfodhI/AAAAAAAABUk/00QS0mjMYqI/s320/DSC00337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377806935412733458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1113399919068027594?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1113399919068027594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1113399919068027594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1113399919068027594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1113399919068027594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/bikes.html' title='Bikes'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHO5yxIIXI/AAAAAAAABUc/cUiD-WhHaLc/s72-c/DSC00334.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1223198775201969504</id><published>2009-09-04T21:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T21:33:45.569-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fire'/><title type='text'>Fire Fire Fire</title><content type='html'>The day after my birthday, we sadly witnessed a neighbor's house burn.   Thankfully, the family and pets got out safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures from immediately after&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMEEDIoBI/AAAAAAAABTk/445fAxWLBCk/s1600-h/PICT0194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMEEDIoBI/AAAAAAAABTk/445fAxWLBCk/s320/PICT0194.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377803800235515922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It stood covered with tarps for the better part of the last 6 weeks, but recently they've started rebuilding.  Turns out, the house was gutted mostly due to water damage.  The boys are enjoying watching the construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new garage wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMEmsRG1I/AAAAAAAABTs/PMAkpo_jmMU/s1600-h/DSC00285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMEmsRG1I/AAAAAAAABTs/PMAkpo_jmMU/s320/DSC00285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377803809534843730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tearing off the shingles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMFRUM6NI/AAAAAAAABT0/0KLzrpegvUk/s1600-h/DSC00291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMFRUM6NI/AAAAAAAABT0/0KLzrpegvUk/s320/DSC00291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377803820976629970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tearing off the roof.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMF1bx2sI/AAAAAAAABT8/if9LbHS5_eY/s1600-h/DSC00294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMF1bx2sI/AAAAAAAABT8/if9LbHS5_eY/s320/DSC00294.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377803830672087746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now the boys want to take walks every day so we can see the progress and watch the workers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMGRtiXCI/AAAAAAAABUE/jl8cVqh4_8I/s1600-h/DSC00299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMGRtiXCI/AAAAAAAABUE/jl8cVqh4_8I/s320/DSC00299.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377803838262762530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The new roof in place, 1 day later.  Sadly we weren't home for the crane putting up the trusses.  The boys would be bummed if only they knew what they missed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMqI3rGWI/AAAAAAAABUM/VE3F1_ZlI1E/s1600-h/DSC00330.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMqI3rGWI/AAAAAAAABUM/VE3F1_ZlI1E/s320/DSC00330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377804454364649826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're moving fast and I hope to see the house complete and the neighbors back soon.  T &amp;amp; B just want to know if they, and their decorations will be there in time for Halloween.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1223198775201969504?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1223198775201969504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1223198775201969504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1223198775201969504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1223198775201969504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/fire-fire-fire.html' title='Fire Fire Fire'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHMEEDIoBI/AAAAAAAABTk/445fAxWLBCk/s72-c/PICT0194.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-8032290240658707055</id><published>2009-09-04T20:45:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T21:38:17.105-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cubs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trains'/><title type='text'>Random Photos</title><content type='html'>It's been busy lately....a download of my camera, provides the best possible update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Izzy in a box.  She liked it, the boys liked it, I found another box for what I needed.  The boys pushed her (gently) around as if she was driving a race car!  She thought that was great!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHyFGdt7I/AAAAAAAABTM/pdP0GmlV1ac/s1600-h/DSC00344+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHyFGdt7I/AAAAAAAABTM/pdP0GmlV1ac/s320/DSC00344+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377799093233760178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little fashionista in her first pair of BabyLegs.  I love them!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHxXJvqVI/AAAAAAAABTE/9eR2ozpikEI/s1600-h/DSC00278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHxXJvqVI/AAAAAAAABTE/9eR2ozpikEI/s320/DSC00278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377799080899488082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hanging with Daddy and laughing at his jokes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHw4J8JjI/AAAAAAAABS8/iRY4vZd1wnk/s1600-h/DSC00228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHw4J8JjI/AAAAAAAABS8/iRY4vZd1wnk/s320/DSC00228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377799072578807346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The shirt says "Mommy's Girl" in case you can't read it!  And boy, is she ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHwG2cACI/AAAAAAAABS0/JMzrpU8RSfQ/s1600-h/DSC00150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHwG2cACI/AAAAAAAABS0/JMzrpU8RSfQ/s320/DSC00150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377799059343671330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We love our sister Mommy!  But why is she wearing a Cubs shirt?"  The boys have recently decided to become Cardinals fans.  Seriously???  How dare they....I'm kicking them out of the house now!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHKYd_znlI/AAAAAAAABTc/BofoK4zJ-00/s1600-h/DSC00270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHKYd_znlI/AAAAAAAABTc/BofoK4zJ-00/s320/DSC00270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377801951775006290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Izzy's first train ride!  We took a short jaunt to go to a new park, and to satisfy the boys' desire to ride the train!  Everyone had a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHKX0Yg-_I/AAAAAAAABTU/qyop9NlQF6s/s1600-h/DSC00265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHKX0Yg-_I/AAAAAAAABTU/qyop9NlQF6s/s320/DSC00265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377801940604353522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-8032290240658707055?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/8032290240658707055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=8032290240658707055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8032290240658707055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/8032290240658707055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/09/random-phots.html' title='Random Photos'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SqHHyFGdt7I/AAAAAAAABTM/pdP0GmlV1ac/s72-c/DSC00344+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5228927222654880825</id><published>2009-08-28T20:39:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T21:08:11.463-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>The Invasion (a month late)</title><content type='html'>About a month ago, in late July, my 2 cousins (on my birth father's side), their husbands, their 4 children (2 each), and my Aunt, came to visit.  Yes, all 9 of them stayed here.  That makes 14 people, 7 adults and 7 children age 5 and under.  We had a great time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greeting the 2nd set of cousins as they arrived!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK8liwE1I/AAAAAAAABRk/Cq6X3hjf1OE/s1600-h/IMG_2401.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK8liwE1I/AAAAAAAABRk/Cq6X3hjf1OE/s320/IMG_2401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198928741339986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trevor "bonding" with cousin Keith!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK9dUg4xI/AAAAAAAABRs/7F3V14tbj74/s1600-h/IMG_2402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK9dUg4xI/AAAAAAAABRs/7F3V14tbj74/s320/IMG_2402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198943714009874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 of the 7 watching TV.  I think this was the calmest moment of the whole visit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiI8auyDmI/AAAAAAAABRM/drrdqR6v7GY/s1600-h/DSC00508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiI8auyDmI/AAAAAAAABRM/drrdqR6v7GY/s320/DSC00508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196726815755874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Of course having, 14 people in the house requires a lot of seating at meals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK-UU5beI/AAAAAAAABR8/VNEBgbOMNu8/s1600-h/IMG_2408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK-UU5beI/AAAAAAAABR8/VNEBgbOMNu8/s320/IMG_2408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198958479568354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK99XWf5I/AAAAAAAABR0/dKgU53ghaVI/s1600-h/IMG_2407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK99XWf5I/AAAAAAAABR0/dKgU53ghaVI/s320/IMG_2407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198952315846546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went downtown and visited the Field Museum.  I think everyone had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK_D5PV5I/AAAAAAAABSE/1uJuhCLJ8xI/s1600-h/IMG_2410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK_D5PV5I/AAAAAAAABSE/1uJuhCLJ8xI/s320/IMG_2410.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375198971248465810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some of the kids were willing to sit with the pirate statue at the museum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM902jooI/AAAAAAAABSM/Lwb2V9FSpgU/s1600-h/IMG_2418.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM902jooI/AAAAAAAABSM/Lwb2V9FSpgU/s320/IMG_2418.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201149054067330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all of them loved the Dinosaur exhibit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM_OZRTGI/AAAAAAAABSc/H6ey3YGwYGI/s1600-h/IMG_2440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM_OZRTGI/AAAAAAAABSc/H6ey3YGwYGI/s320/IMG_2440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201173090421858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played some games the last night, including "Left, Right, Center" which started with the kids playing, and ended up with all the adults playing, and Trevor!  All the adults kept trying to "let" Trev win, but it's a hard game to rig!  And he lost every time...but he still had tons of fun!  The next week, we went out and bought our own set of the game and he still loves it, and still hasn't won!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiI9HFb27I/AAAAAAAABRU/qotCaW8BrOU/s1600-h/DSC00511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiI9HFb27I/AAAAAAAABRU/qotCaW8BrOU/s320/DSC00511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196738721930162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Game night also include Twister (all the kids, big and small!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiNAbuLnAI/AAAAAAAABSs/qTdFWOTwRv0/s1600-h/IMG_2486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiNAbuLnAI/AAAAAAAABSs/qTdFWOTwRv0/s320/IMG_2486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201193847659522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and Jenga!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM-pKDF3I/AAAAAAAABSU/YLo4K4MaSC4/s1600-h/IMG_2489.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM-pKDF3I/AAAAAAAABSU/YLo4K4MaSC4/s320/IMG_2489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201163094464370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting ready to take a group picture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiI9wl8M6I/AAAAAAAABRc/oCrYByWMUrE/s1600-h/DSC00514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiI9wl8M6I/AAAAAAAABRc/oCrYByWMUrE/s320/DSC00514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375196749864121250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group photo....turned out great!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM_91cISI/AAAAAAAABSk/3PE7aFqVfZA/s1600-h/IMG_2481.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiM_91cISI/AAAAAAAABSk/3PE7aFqVfZA/s320/IMG_2481.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201185825038626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a great visit, and I can't wait for the next family reunion!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5228927222654880825?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5228927222654880825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5228927222654880825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5228927222654880825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5228927222654880825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/08/invasion-month-late.html' title='The Invasion (a month late)'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SpiK8liwE1I/AAAAAAAABRk/Cq6X3hjf1OE/s72-c/IMG_2401.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1087758811888969273</id><published>2009-08-20T09:08:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T13:57:55.090-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>The First Day</title><content type='html'>We woke up this morning to rain "bucketing down".  It was just pouring, and sideways at times.  But all that rain, didn't dampen Trevor's spirits for his first day of Kindergarten.  It just dampened our shoes as we walked out to wait for the bus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was ready with his shoes, coat (for the rain), and backpack 10 minutes before the bus would be here.  And after waiting in the house for 5 minutes, he was ready to go outside to wait!  Even tho that meant we would be getting soaked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7shfZI1wI/AAAAAAAABQE/FhVx73838yA/s1600-h/DSC00164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7shfZI1wI/AAAAAAAABQE/FhVx73838yA/s320/DSC00164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372491465606354690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus stop is across the street (since it's just Trevor and our neighbor's son getting on), and the across-the-street neighbor's took pity on us and let us stand in their garage waiting for the bus. THANK YOU!!! Still we had pretty wet feet and legs, but still lots of excitement.  Eventually the bus came around the corner, and I walked down the driveway with the three boys-two getting on the bus (T and our neighbor) and Blake who HAD to go with us to the bus stop even tho it was pouring rain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7sh5TwXhI/AAAAAAAABQM/6BwWNGtfxTo/s1600-h/DSC00178.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7sh5TwXhI/AAAAAAAABQM/6BwWNGtfxTo/s320/DSC00178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372491472563101202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T about jumped on the bus before she had the doors open, and barely had time to turn around and give me a kiss goodbye!  He sat with the neighbor, and waved and waved to me as they drove down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7siZKFwUI/AAAAAAAABQU/MrSSx5G-5R4/s1600-h/DSC00180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7siZKFwUI/AAAAAAAABQU/MrSSx5G-5R4/s320/DSC00180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372491481112494402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 hours and 20 minutes later (not that I'm counting y'all!), he was back.  And thankfully, the weather was much better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7sjCMe0II/AAAAAAAABQc/T_cRseM0f1I/s1600-h/DSC00189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7sjCMe0II/AAAAAAAABQc/T_cRseM0f1I/s320/DSC00189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372491492128379010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came off the bus, happy as a clam, and talking excitedly about his homework (how long will he be excited about it!!!).    Blake and Daddy were home and waiting for him.  I think Blake was really missing him,as he clung to his side for the next hour of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7sjmNlrFI/AAAAAAAABQk/u-ZLRpd8sdE/s1600-h/DSC00192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7sjmNlrFI/AAAAAAAABQk/u-ZLRpd8sdE/s320/DSC00192.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372491501796699218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eventually got some details out of him about their day, but not much (typical Trevor).  What he did tell me:  they sang the "5 little ducks" song that they sang last year at preschool, they learned where the bathroom's are, he sits at a table near the teacher's desk with 2 girls and another boy but he doesn't know their names, they had a snack and then got to play with toys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the afternoon, he did his homework, with no help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday was day two, and he was just as excited!  The weather was MUCH better, so I got some good shots of waiting for the bus and getting on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7t6Z2x1gI/AAAAAAAABQs/LpMtVFgIPn4/s1600-h/DSC00196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7t6Z2x1gI/AAAAAAAABQs/LpMtVFgIPn4/s320/DSC00196.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372492993128420866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7t60CGkVI/AAAAAAAABQ0/q_EUA_w7cBg/s1600-h/DSC00198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7t60CGkVI/AAAAAAAABQ0/q_EUA_w7cBg/s320/DSC00198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372493000155238738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7t7lbZ4_I/AAAAAAAABQ8/TQ0vHWBl-AE/s1600-h/DSC00200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7t7lbZ4_I/AAAAAAAABQ8/TQ0vHWBl-AE/s320/DSC00200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372493013414700018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1087758811888969273?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1087758811888969273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1087758811888969273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1087758811888969273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1087758811888969273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day.html' title='The First Day'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/So7shfZI1wI/AAAAAAAABQE/FhVx73838yA/s72-c/DSC00164.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-5128948884392011411</id><published>2009-08-15T20:43:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T00:19:01.333-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><title type='text'>Dad</title><content type='html'>I call "home" pretty regularly to chat with my Mom and update her on myself and the grandkids, but my Dad is not much of a phone person.  Since I left home for college a decade and a half ago, I've talked to my Dad less and less.  He'll get on the phone for a few minutes, and say hello, but not much more. For a long time, I thought this would really put a cramp in our relationship and that made me sad (especially since in my mind, I was a "Daddy's girl" growing up).  But tonight, as I made dinner, I realized that's not really true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr61v6bBI/AAAAAAAABPg/BwQ0Eupb6c4/s1600-h/IMG_0900.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr61v6bBI/AAAAAAAABPg/BwQ0Eupb6c4/s320/IMG_0900.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370379739267230738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight for dinner, I chopped up a home-grown cucumber and three home-grown tomatoes.  For all the years I can remember of my childhood (in fact, it's still there), my Dad had a garden out in the backyard, with tomatoes, and cukes, and beans.  Maybe there were other things, but those are the ones I remember.  By this time of year, every dinner my Dad cooked (which was many nights of the week) came with a home grown tomato on the side, sliced, cut in half, and slathered in mayo and pepper.  Maybe not so healthy (with the mayo), but VERY yummy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr55SvPPI/AAAAAAAABPQ/ku3wDVMmn_k/s1600-h/DSC01558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr55SvPPI/AAAAAAAABPQ/ku3wDVMmn_k/s320/DSC01558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370379723038735602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just recently I got a postcard from my Dad, as he and my Mother vacationed in Wales.  In the postcard, he reminisced about a previous trip that the four of us (my parents, brother, and I) made to the same place.  A trip that is now, he KINDLY pointed out, more than 1/2 my life ago!  He remembered and referenced little details that I couldn't have told you before reading his postcard, but now remember clear as day, thanks to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr5BsVgoI/AAAAAAAABPI/4nsKJV7O-WM/s1600-h/DSC01441.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr5BsVgoI/AAAAAAAABPI/4nsKJV7O-WM/s320/DSC01441.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370379708113715842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Randomly during the years I've been living far from my parents (about 800 miles to be exact), I'll get an envelope marked with my Dad's distinctive handwriting.  In the envelope are random newspaper articles that may have something to do with someone I went to high school with, a place that we used to go when I was a kid, or one of my hobbies (Monopoly games for instance).  Each time, there are notes and comments written on these articles, and thought provoking questions, letting me know exactly what was on Dad's mind when he saved these for me.  Many of those articles are upstairs in my file cabinet.  On occasion, I flip through it and re-read them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sods7uxFEJI/AAAAAAAABPw/4bBLjWEeYog/s1600-h/DSC01385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sods7uxFEJI/AAAAAAAABPw/4bBLjWEeYog/s320/DSC01385.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370380854084571282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last year, I've learned that each Saturday morning Dad catches up on my blog.  He won't comment online, but instead, when the mood strikes him, he sends me an email with his insights, witty comments, criticism, or other feedback.  Every one of those emails has been saved, and the comments within taken to heart and seriously considered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr6eDbkJI/AAAAAAAABPY/uRCPgIeb0lI/s1600-h/IMG_0879.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr6eDbkJI/AAAAAAAABPY/uRCPgIeb0lI/s320/IMG_0879.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370379732906643602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I hear certain key words, I instantly think of Dad.  What are those key words?  Diabetes, photosynthesis, and lactic acid.  Yup, those words make me think of Dad.  See, dear old Dad was a university professor who taught plant bio-chemistry.  When I really upset him, or really misbehaved, my punishment was a lecture.  I spent a "grueling" hour learning about diabetes, and a seperate one learning about lactic acid.  I remember the lectures, but not the offense for which I was punished!!  And a few weeks ago, on a hike in a forest preserve with the kids, we saw a pond full of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lemna"&gt;lemna&lt;/a&gt;.  Let me tell you, I was tearing up just looking at them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SodvopW0Q1I/AAAAAAAABP4/2WczbQCMgzA/s1600-h/IMG_0905.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SodvopW0Q1I/AAAAAAAABP4/2WczbQCMgzA/s320/IMG_0905.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370383824749609810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tonight, as I ate my cukes and tomatoes, I thought of dear old Dad.  I'm sure next Saturday when he reads this, some of it will get to him, but he'll probably never let me know that.  That's just how dear old Dad is.  But when I get an email or an envelope full of newspaper articles, I'll know he was thinking of me.... And that's what matters!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SodshyuLQrI/AAAAAAAABPo/Lo2Xn6BuaGI/s1600-h/IMG_0910.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SodshyuLQrI/AAAAAAAABPo/Lo2Xn6BuaGI/s320/IMG_0910.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370380408469537458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-5128948884392011411?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/5128948884392011411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=5128948884392011411' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5128948884392011411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/5128948884392011411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/08/dad.html' title='Dad'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sodr61v6bBI/AAAAAAAABPg/BwQ0Eupb6c4/s72-c/IMG_0900.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1893169891852703643</id><published>2009-08-15T10:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T10:00:05.290-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>Isabelle - Mile Marker 4</title><content type='html'>Izzy's accomplishments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rolls from back to front consistently, and then continues from her front to her back occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as she likes rolling, she much prefers her new skill: squealing!  She loves to chat, and usually wants someone to look at while she's talking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5Tx5p2SI/AAAAAAAABOY/r3DLLs4xHug/s1600-h/DSC00499+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5Tx5p2SI/AAAAAAAABOY/r3DLLs4xHug/s320/DSC00499+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369972248917170466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is very good at holding her head up, likes to sit (with help) and LOVES to stand (with help).  So she loves her Excersaucer to stand up in and look around at her brothers, and her Bumbo seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX88Br3s_I/AAAAAAAABOw/HiRdxF6k5x0/s1600-h/DSC00107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX88Br3s_I/AAAAAAAABOw/HiRdxF6k5x0/s320/DSC00107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369976238883976178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5TUM7XyI/AAAAAAAABOQ/tpyP0vtzxw4/s1600-h/DSC00477+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5TUM7XyI/AAAAAAAABOQ/tpyP0vtzxw4/s320/DSC00477+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369972240944946978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likes to chew on her thumb, and accompanying fingers....as many as she can fit in her mouth.  But she prefers to chew on daddy's knuckles whenever they are available (she doesn't care for my fingers it seems!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX6PGAiXKI/AAAAAAAABOo/DZ8Mw3-WdMQ/s1600-h/DSC00563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX6PGAiXKI/AAAAAAAABOo/DZ8Mw3-WdMQ/s320/DSC00563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369973267927030946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Met her great-grandfather "Jackpot" for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX6Ot8JL0I/AAAAAAAABOg/1VO1dGcSiJo/s1600-h/DSC00564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX6Ot8JL0I/AAAAAAAABOg/1VO1dGcSiJo/s320/DSC00564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369973261466152770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gets bored of being in the same room after a while.  She'll whine and cry inconsolably until you go to another room, and then she's happy as a clam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5S1QRbKI/AAAAAAAABOI/IC-HZ8GYrVQ/s1600-h/DSC00430+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5S1QRbKI/AAAAAAAABOI/IC-HZ8GYrVQ/s320/DSC00430+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369972232637476002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves bathtime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5SZ-hQ0I/AAAAAAAABOA/QZxLhiOMAaw/s1600-h/DSC00397+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5SZ-hQ0I/AAAAAAAABOA/QZxLhiOMAaw/s320/DSC00397+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369972225315259202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's growing still, about 13 pounds I'd guess.  Exact numbers to come on Wednesday at her 4-month check up.  She's consistently sleeping 10-11 hours at night, and waking only once (at 3 am) to eat which is just fine with me.  No table food until she's 6 months,  but she does seem to be getting more tolerant of me having dairy (no visible rash 5 days after a dinner with cheese and sour cream in it!!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1893169891852703643?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1893169891852703643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1893169891852703643' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1893169891852703643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1893169891852703643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/08/isabelle-mile-marker-4.html' title='Isabelle - Mile Marker 4'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoX5Tx5p2SI/AAAAAAAABOY/r3DLLs4xHug/s72-c/DSC00499+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7411767438568760953</id><published>2009-08-10T19:23:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T09:10:12.271-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camping'/><title type='text'>Lessons Learned Camping</title><content type='html'>Last Wednesday, we left for  a 5 day camping trip.  We headed north to Door County, and our first camping trip with a baby.  We camped last year and the year before with both boys, but never with a baby.  In the last few weeks, I have heard ALL kinds of "advice" (and other stuff) about camping with a baby.  Most of it goes like this, "What?  Are you crazy?  Why would you go camping with a baby??!?!?!?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here are my lessons learned from this years trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can fit 3 kids, and all the camping stuff for 5 people for 4 days in a Toyota Sienna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-SJSEinI/AAAAAAAABMQ/p4H26-BwPKs/s1600-h/DSC00002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-SJSEinI/AAAAAAAABMQ/p4H26-BwPKs/s320/DSC00002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369274030950222450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-RRYjjeI/AAAAAAAABMI/OGZaliHVdIQ/s1600-h/DSC00001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-RRYjjeI/AAAAAAAABMI/OGZaliHVdIQ/s320/DSC00001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369274015945035234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will forget at least 5 things, and have to go back (15 minutes from home) for at least one of them because you CAN'T live without it! &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A former boy scout is great at teaching his boys how to put up a tent, and makes some yummy food too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-So3qVmI/AAAAAAAABMY/OV_2aTBr_Es/s1600-h/DSC00006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-So3qVmI/AAAAAAAABMY/OV_2aTBr_Es/s320/DSC00006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369274039429387874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCLK7Q3yI/AAAAAAAABNg/GKsQzhhaHNs/s1600-h/DSC00057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCLK7Q3yI/AAAAAAAABNg/GKsQzhhaHNs/s320/DSC00057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369278309178859298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting two boys in the same tent means no one gets to sleep for hours and hours!  So Daddy had one boy in the little tent, and I had the other boy and izzy in the big tent.  The boys each spent 2 nights with one of us and then traded to be with the other so that no one got too upset!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-TyFRX7I/AAAAAAAABMo/UdKHKMwohl0/s1600-h/DSC00011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-TyFRX7I/AAAAAAAABMo/UdKHKMwohl0/s320/DSC00011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369274059082260402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 5-year-old is always willing to search for more wood for the fire, as long as he thinks he'll get to throw it in the fire, or cook a marshmallow on that fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-TGieSnI/AAAAAAAABMg/tGpTrXWVyYU/s1600-h/DSC00008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-TGieSnI/AAAAAAAABMg/tGpTrXWVyYU/s320/DSC00008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369274047393581682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAI_08B-I/AAAAAAAABMw/nuKKrbhQ9bA/s1600-h/DSC00016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAI_08B-I/AAAAAAAABMw/nuKKrbhQ9bA/s320/DSC00016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369276072816543714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recently potty trained 3 year old, will revert right back to going potty in his pants, for no apparent reason!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCNngRHBI/AAAAAAAABN4/mlU-0zOroEA/s1600-h/DSC00081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCNngRHBI/AAAAAAAABN4/mlU-0zOroEA/s320/DSC00081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369278351209995282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes it's hard to locate your 3 and 5 year old children, but your 4 month old is always right where you put her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAJSyi7jI/AAAAAAAABM4/7rIvuZvmiQk/s1600-h/DSC00023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAJSyi7jI/AAAAAAAABM4/7rIvuZvmiQk/s320/DSC00023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369276077906783794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 5-year-old who hasn't napped in 2 years, will decide to "rest" in the tent and sleeping bag to "stay warm" and take a 2 hour nap!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCM8S4PNI/AAAAAAAABNw/CLdwDtNRhP8/s1600-h/DSC00079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCM8S4PNI/AAAAAAAABNw/CLdwDtNRhP8/s320/DSC00079.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369278339611114706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything cooked on the fire tastes better than the same thing cooked at home in the microwave (popcorn, hot dogs, pancakes, bacon, etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAKFRAzjI/AAAAAAAABNA/4_oN67SuizM/s1600-h/DSC00026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAKFRAzjI/AAAAAAAABNA/4_oN67SuizM/s320/DSC00026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369276091456343602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCMDSIiSI/AAAAAAAABNo/COk_4SW4tbY/s1600-h/DSC00058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCMDSIiSI/AAAAAAAABNo/COk_4SW4tbY/s320/DSC00058.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369278324307167522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 3-year-old meltdown seems quieter in the forest, than it does in say a coffee shop or your own living room!  But it requires just as much patience from the parent involved, to end it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCKUoPaVI/AAAAAAAABNY/2R_064V_0f8/s1600-h/DSC00052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOCKUoPaVI/AAAAAAAABNY/2R_064V_0f8/s320/DSC00052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369278294603557202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camping with an almost 4-month old is WAY easier, than camping with two boys ages 3.5 and 5!!!  Except when she cries inconsolably for 30 minutes on a hike!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOALQ-O3bI/AAAAAAAABNQ/2YuPClBS2Qc/s1600-h/DSC00041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOALQ-O3bI/AAAAAAAABNQ/2YuPClBS2Qc/s320/DSC00041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369276111778667954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;5 days of disposable diapers (even eco-friendly compostable ones) lead to diaper rash, that is easily cleared up by 2 days back in  cloth diapers!  I love Izzy's cloth diapes, and the wonderful things they let me avoid!!  (No pictures for this lesson!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was well worth it and I'll do it again next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAKxTb7CI/AAAAAAAABNI/C-VSk7kThyY/s1600-h/DSC00032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoOAKxTb7CI/AAAAAAAABNI/C-VSk7kThyY/s320/DSC00032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369276103277669410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7411767438568760953?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7411767438568760953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7411767438568760953' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7411767438568760953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7411767438568760953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/08/lessons-learned-camping.html' title='Lessons Learned Camping'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/SoN-SJSEinI/AAAAAAAABMQ/p4H26-BwPKs/s72-c/DSC00002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1084652665857489608</id><published>2009-08-01T20:27:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T20:42:23.909-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doctors'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kindergarten'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Pediatricians, Opticians, and Dentists, oh my!</title><content type='html'>Did you know, that starting Kindergarten requires your child to see every medical professional ever known, and that they get freaked out along the way??   This is what I have learned this summer as we get ready for T to start Kindergarten in 3 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, just after Uncle Tim left, he had his 5 year appointment at the pediatrician.  I expected this to be a basic well-child check-up with the added fun of shots.  Since T has gotten all his vaccines on time, he hasn't had any shots since his 2-year visit.  While this has been nice, it's VERY different for a 5-year-old to get shots..... VERY DIFFERENT! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to his appointment, and they started with his height and weight.  He's still a skinny mini in the 5th percentile for weight, and officially weights about a pound less than his younger brother.  But he's still in the 50th percentile for height, so those things combined make him look like a toothpick!  After the height and weight, the nurse handed him a cup, and asked him (nonchalantly, I might add) to pee in it.  Okay, for you and me, we've heard that request before.  The look on Trev's face.... PRICELESS!!!  So I took him in the bathroom, and explained to him what he had to do and why.  He was still stunned, and finally (very quietly) asked me, "Do I have to drink it?".  Duh...it's a cup, he thinks they're gonna make him drink it!  Yikes!!!  So I quickly answered him and got him over that one!  Then he was upset because I was going to stay in the bathroom with him (T is very private about going potty) and so I told him I wouldn't look while he peed, but that I would just hold the cup.  Again, paranoia....he was worried about peeing on my hand!  Eventually we got him over that, I didn't look, and he peed in the cup!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the visit was okay, after a LONG wait in the office for the doctor.  After the doctor came in (no issues there) the nurse came back in for the shots.  I only told him about the shots after we got to the doctors office.  Seriously, why tell him sooner... he'll just freak out about it!!!  So he got his shots, with much screaming and crying and yelling at the nurse that she better "never do that again!".  5 minutes later he was just fine!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks later, in fact just a few days ago, we had the 2nd visit required for kindergarten.  The eye doctor.  Again, I didn't warn him about this appointment, he'll just fixate on it until we go and WORRY!  Yes, he's a worrier!  So I told him in the car, and he was kinda quiet.  But I told him they were just going to look at his eyes and check them out.  He seemed fine.   We went in and there were (of course) lots of glasses on the walls.  We went into the office and the optician was great... checking him out and making it all seem like games.  He did very well, passed all the tests, and even impressed her with his knowledge of numbers and words!  At the end, she said (more to me than him), "His vision is perfect, he won't need glasses anytime soon".  And Trevor let out a huge sigh and was visibly relieved.  He said to me as we walked out, "I was worried I'd get glasses since you and Daddy have them".  Duh.... of course you'd think that!  I gotta start anticipating these things better!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week is our 2nd trip to the dentist.  The kids were FANTASTIC last time they went, and went back together without me going back there at all!!!  Holy cow!  I'm hoping there won't be any surprises at this visit, but who knows!  At this rate, I'm sure Trevor will expect or misunderstand something, but darned if I know what!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-1084652665857489608?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/1084652665857489608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=1084652665857489608' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1084652665857489608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/1084652665857489608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/08/pediatricians-opticians-and-dentists-oh.html' title='Pediatricians, Opticians, and Dentists, oh my!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-6805635918959015518</id><published>2009-07-27T14:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T14:34:39.045-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tim'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>Visitors, and more visitors</title><content type='html'>It's been a VERY busy few weeks.  We've had tons of visitors, and TONS of fun.  Rather than squish it all into one blog post, I'm going to attempt to do a few seperate posts in the next few days about them all!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 days ago, on a Friday, my brother came into town.  That's my brother Uncle Tim, as opposed to Daddy's brother, Uncle Tim!  Confusing ain't it!!  Anywho... Uncle Tim came to town for a few days on his way to Montana.  You  see if you fly United, Chi-town is on your way to anywhere in the west, because all flights stop here, as it's a hub.  So Tim made his layover 4 days long, and came to hang out with the boys and meet the little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, I picked him up at the airport.  The boys stayed home with Daddy who had the day off, and were not happy that I was going to the airport alone.  They were THRILLED when Tim and I walked in the door!!!  From that moment, until his departure on Monday, he was required to spend any and every waking moment playing with them.  They played cards, games, legos, cars, trains, and of course, tackle Uncle Tim.  I'm honestly not sure what was their favorite!!  But I know Tim's favorite was NOT tackle!  They got him good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday we took a trip up to the nearby Renaissance Faire.  It was cute, but more of a rip-off than I remember.    There were things to see, but DOING almost everything was going to cost you a small fortune.  And that's after paying the admission fee (thanks for covering us Tim!).  For me, hubby, Tim, one of the more interesting parts of the day was watching all the people in their various outfits.  Some were trully Renaissance style, but others were fairies, or more Medieval princesses/princes, and some were just weird clothes and slutty outfits worn to get attention!!!  We watched the joust which the boys enjoyed, and they went on a few rides.  But I think I've realized that it's just not the great expereience I keep thinking it will be, and I'm not going to push hubby to go again!  (He will be THRILLED to hear that, as he never wants to go!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, we took Uncle Tim to the Milwaukee Zoo.  The boys love the zoo and can NEVER go too many times.  We never see all the animals, and something is always changing or different.  This time we saw the rhino, the giraffes, the polar bears, the bats, the crocodiles, and all the monkeys.  The boys also finally got to go on the Sky Ride since we had enough adults to go with them, and one to stay with Miss Iz.  That was definetly the highlight of their day as they have been waiting FOREVER to go on it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday we lounged around in the am, and then took Uncle Tim to catch his flight to Montana.  The drive to O'Hare is a long one, so once we dropped Tim off (which was traumatic for the boys!), we went to a nearby park to run off some energy and feed Miss Iz.  The boys loved the park as it's about a mile from O'Hare and they got to see TONS of planes take-off and land and it was very loud!!!  They couldn't figure out which one Uncle Tim was on, but they kept trying to see him!!!  They were also thrilled that the Icy Pickle Truck (that's the Ice Cream Man to you and me!) pulled up to the park, and mommy was actually willing to spend money and get them popsicles!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a great visit with Uncle Tim.   I'm glad he managed to fit us in, and come stay (especially while combining it with another trip and saving some $$$).  We all had a great time, and now he's having fun in Montana!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures coming soon!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-6805635918959015518?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/6805635918959015518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=6805635918959015518' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6805635918959015518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/6805635918959015518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/07/visitors-and-more-visitors.html' title='Visitors, and more visitors'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-2887698791418244347</id><published>2009-07-15T18:35:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T09:28:37.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Isabelle'/><title type='text'>3 months and counting</title><content type='html'>Three months old today is little Iz.  My how time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's decided to make it a memorable day.  I put her down on her mat to play this afternoon (on her back) and the next time I looked at her, she was on her tummy.  What?!?!?  You're only 3 months old...and you haven't even been trying to roll over!  You've been happily lying on  your back or your side.  But suddenly today, poof, over she goes.  And she's done it about 7 times at least, so it's not a fluke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question is,  if Trevor didn't roll until 3 days before he was 4 months old and he walked at 9 1/2 months, what does that mean for how early Izzy will crawl and walk?!?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;She's grown quite a bit, and is starting to outgrow her 0-3 month clothes (mostly by length).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She's now 11.7 pounds according to the Wii!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She's been sleeping about 6 hours at night before waking to eat, and then sleeping another 4-6 hours!!!  This is definitely my favorite development!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She's a social little chatterbox more and more, exploring her vocal skills and 'chatting' with anyone who comes by her...especially her brothers!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;She's had a busy month, with trips to the zoo, Great America, birthday parties, and her first fireworks.  She's handled it all like a pro.  And as long as there's no dairy in my diet, she's totally happy pretty much all the time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was rolling, and rolling, until I took out the camera.  Then she stopped....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-1baf168b85afda7" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D01baf168b85afda7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7B2E3C9562FFFE879FEE35B0C42E0DC565BF497E.2ABBA14CFAD31392C6F7A704A20524380D93CBCD%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1baf168b85afda7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCRT6KvdosMk8uG8cRTz7pQ2tZG8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v1.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D01baf168b85afda7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7B2E3C9562FFFE879FEE35B0C42E0DC565BF497E.2ABBA14CFAD31392C6F7A704A20524380D93CBCD%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D1baf168b85afda7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCRT6KvdosMk8uG8cRTz7pQ2tZG8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until I turned off the video, and then she did it.... so I got it last minute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3930bfe37e4bdd96" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3930bfe37e4bdd96%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329915769%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D756400F606BA8F08B6E263C78BA4A1B1559729C0.46C854DDAC75EA020DE56E186AE99C0D16082AF1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3930bfe37e4bdd96%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1Gb2YLML-lkjfiaosMPTkRSVAT8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-2887698791418244347?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=1baf168b85afda7&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3930bfe37e4bdd96&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/2887698791418244347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=2887698791418244347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2887698791418244347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/2887698791418244347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/07/3-months-and-counting.html' title='3 months and counting'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-9122900325231605857</id><published>2009-07-13T14:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T09:00:29.633-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mommy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fire'/><title type='text'>Whew...the busiest 4 days of my life!!</title><content type='html'>Wow!  I think i'm feeling my age!  Or more likely, I'm feeling the effects of the last 4 BUSY CRAZY days!  But as tired as I am, it was a great great birthday weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday....&lt;br /&gt;was Trevor's actual birthday.  The day started with camp - their last day- and Trevor was thrilled that he got to bring cupcakes to camp!  He has spent a mere 2 years in "school" settings, but has already noticed that all kids bring treats to school on their birthday's and then figured out that he doesn't have school on his birthday.  That realization made him pretty sad earlier this year, and as a fellow summer-birthday-no-school-treats-sufferer, I fully understand.  So, when someone else brought treats to camp for their birthday, T was so excited.  He had to bring cupcakes.  And the bonus was, we found Monsters vs. Aliens cupcakes at the store!! Woo Hoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After cupcakes and camp, we went to Grandma's for lunch.  It was rainy and drizzly, but we were hoping that would pass so we could go to Great America.  Well, the weather got better, so after lunch and presents with grandma (yay, for a new tball bat, and a tackle box!), the boys and I went to GA (we left Izzy to bond with G'ma).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great time ensued at GA since we could go on all the rides that they need me for, since I had no excuse not to go on.  So we rode the Roarin' Rapids and got soaked, the Triple Play (2 times for me, since only 1 kid could go with me at a time), the Fiddlers Fling, the Great American Raceway (2 times), and a few others.  The kids had a great time, and we caught up with a good friend, so that T-man and his friend could ride on the cars together (they looked like kids driving off on their first date together!), and they were thrilled when a teenager got of Fiddler's Fling and puked!!!  THey were laughing that a big kid got sick when they didn't!!!  Kinda funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of the day was getting to be in the Parade!  We rode in the trolley and were dancing and singing with the parade music, and waving to everyone!  The boys had fun and Trev was telling anyone who would listen that it was his birthday!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally came home, picked up Izzy and Daddy and went to Chili's for dinner.  Chili's was Trev's request since they serve corn on the cob!  After that we came home, opened presents, and sent the kids to bed!  Trev was excited by his new 18" big boy bike that has no training wheels!!  He has showed it to a million people, but hasn't tried to ride it yet!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xiePGnVI/AAAAAAAABLI/b396O29cE50/s1600-h/DSC00588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xiePGnVI/AAAAAAAABLI/b396O29cE50/s320/DSC00588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359056549895904594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday....&lt;br /&gt;morning started with me working.  While I worked (and Izzy got admired!), Daddy and the boys worked on my "To Do List" and got the house ready for the party.  The weather decided to cooperate this year and it was nice, sunny and warm.  Perfect for Trevor's backyard pool/sprinkler/water balloon party!  The kids and mom's started arriving at 2, and we had a fun afternoon!   For quite a while, everyone played happily in the pool or a sprinkler, and then we threw the water balloons!  After that, we came inside for cake and the pinata!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bob from Monsters vs. Aliens... another Daddy creation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xi578z7I/AAAAAAAABLQ/gbaTPJpbLE4/s1600-h/DSC00603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xi578z7I/AAAAAAAABLQ/gbaTPJpbLE4/s320/DSC00603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359056557331763122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyone pulling the pinata&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xjFWYhrI/AAAAAAAABLY/PvwsCYLQT2w/s1600-h/DSC00611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xjFWYhrI/AAAAAAAABLY/PvwsCYLQT2w/s320/DSC00611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359056560395421362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the busy party, Trev opened his presents, and was thrilled with everything.  The boys played, and Daddy and I decided that we were too tired to cook, so dinner was drive-thru!   Eventually, we got the boys to stop playing with the new toys and go to bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday....&lt;br /&gt;was my birthday!  I was granted my favorite present....SLEEP!  I was left alone until 9:15 am, and Izzy even cooperated and slept two 6-hour spans, only making me get up once at 3 am!!!  What a treat!!   Daddy and the boys cooked my requested breakfast of french toast and bacon...YUM!  We lazed around a bit and then went to Grandma's for the family birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the day with cousin's of Daddy's and the kids, as well as Uncles and Aunts, Granpa and lots of family!  It was a fun day out in the yard with more time in the pool and more water balloons.  There were a few massive water gun fights with Scary Steve,  Daddy, and Grandpa.  I think Trevor won at least 2 of the fights and the third one (with Scary Steve) was a draw!  [Note:  no his real given name is not "Scary Steve", but that is what the boys call their Aunt's boyfriend, as he seemed very scary looking to them when they were about 18 months old!!!  He's not so scary anymore, but the name has stuck!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trev and Blake ready for the water gun fight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xjZm7SgI/AAAAAAAABLg/IjmtdE0b_rw/s1600-h/DSC00648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xjZm7SgI/AAAAAAAABLg/IjmtdE0b_rw/s320/DSC00648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359056565833517570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later at Grandma's, we opened gifts- yay for Batman and  no duplicate gifts! - and had a great pirate feast!  Eventually, the boys got tired and we dragged them home and dumped them in bed!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trev, Kate and cousins on the Treasure Hunt that Kate made for T to find his birthday present.  It was done VERY well and I will have to add photos and details later!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xjyfJbaI/AAAAAAAABLo/3RFI9TA5aQ8/s1600-h/DSC00658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xjyfJbaI/AAAAAAAABLo/3RFI9TA5aQ8/s320/DSC00658.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359056572511776162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trev hitting the pirate pinata at the party Sunday!  The darn thing was tough, and T had to really beat on it to get it open!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8yEelp2HI/AAAAAAAABL4/-xetHDSQiYk/s1600-h/DSC00673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8yEelp2HI/AAAAAAAABL4/-xetHDSQiYk/s320/DSC00673.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359057134106040434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8yExpWAsI/AAAAAAAABMA/FZBOwhRXfxQ/s1600-h/DSC00685.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8yExpWAsI/AAAAAAAABMA/FZBOwhRXfxQ/s320/DSC00685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359057139221791426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trev opening presents, and being TOTALLY thrilled!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8yEL9TPpI/AAAAAAAABLw/gxOg1797Xwk/s1600-h/DSC00667.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8yEL9TPpI/AAAAAAAABLw/gxOg1797Xwk/s320/DSC00667.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359057129104948882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday....&lt;br /&gt;was supposed to be a boring day at home.  A day to recover from party poop-ed-ness (is that a word) and to catch up on chores, cleaning, and laundry.  However, while doing just that, and chatting on the phone, I looked out my back window....to see a "small fire" at the corner neighbor's house.  Well, the "small" fire quickly got out of control and we eventually watched 1/2 the garage and the back wall of the house go up in flames!!!  Yikes!!  We saw the family and pets come out the front of the house safely, so we stopped worrying SO much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the boys enjoyed watching the fire and the firemen spraying water and doing their jobs, we also took the time to talk about fire safety and how the family might be feeling right now.  The boys ended up feeling pretty sad for them, since the family (most likely) won't be sleeping in their house for a while!  What a crazy four days.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping the rest of this week is MUCH quieter!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-9122900325231605857?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/9122900325231605857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=9122900325231605857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/9122900325231605857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/9122900325231605857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/07/whewthe-busiest-4-days-of-my-life.html' title='Whew...the busiest 4 days of my life!!'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0lc8NQnYRWY/Sl8xiePGnVI/AAAAAAAABLI/b396O29cE50/s72-c/DSC00588.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-7426187090099376312</id><published>2009-07-09T10:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:04:24.547-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor'/><title type='text'>5 years ago today...</title><content type='html'>July 9, 2004  was a Friday morning and I got up to take a walk at about 6 am  before working from home.  About half-way around the block, something happened.  I wasn't sure if my water broke or I peed my pants.  Hmm???  How was I supposed to know the difference, all this was new to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I came home, woke up hubby and tried to decide what to do. I called the Dr.’s office and they told me to come in. They were pretty sure my water had broken, and wanted to confirm. My mom was staying with us, so she could be here for the birth.  We woke her up, waited around for her to  get ready and left for the Dr.’s office. They confirmed that my water had broken and sent me to the hospital.  I knew at that point that I had 24 hours to have this baby, or they would do a c-section....something I SERIOUSLY wanted to avoid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the hospital at about 10:30 am.  They got me situated in a room and left me alone for a while to see if labor would progress.  We waited a long time and not much happened.  Daddy and  I walked the halls of the hospital trying to get some contractions going, but no dice. Eventually, they hooked me up with Pitocin to get the contractions moving. That got things moving along, but didn’t stop me from enjoying the Cubs game- but I think they lost =(.  Meanwhile, hubby and Mam-gu waited (somewhat patiently), and made me a little crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, the real hard labor began at about 6 pm. The contractions were rough, and it took a lot of help from hubby to keep me focused. By midnight, it was time to push and they were calling the Dr. to come. I recall they told me not to push as the doc wasn't there yet, apparently she got a speeding ticket on the way to the hospital!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an hour and a half of pushing, Trevor was finally born, facing up into the world (opposite of what you’re supposed to do!).  His nose was bent because of that, and he had the umbilical cord wrapped around one shoulder making his arm blue.  But the arm was just fine, and eventually the nose un-bent.  I remember Daddy cutting the cord, my mom taking a zillion pictures, and making faces like "ow, that looks painful".....thanks mom! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor Phineas born Saturday, July  10, 2004 at 1:39 am  6 pounds 13 oz, 20 inches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6080820868037663564-7426187090099376312?l=misstj9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/feeds/7426187090099376312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6080820868037663564&amp;postID=7426187090099376312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7426187090099376312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6080820868037663564/posts/default/7426187090099376312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://misstj9.blogspot.com/2009/07/5-years-ago-today.html' title='5 years ago today...'/><author><name>misstj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02156099214369031669</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080820868037663564.post-1261666420553871612</id><published>2009-07-02T22:32:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T07:36:27.971-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carseats'/><title type='text'>I'm stepping on to my soapbox now</title><content type='html'>Yes, I am a semi-crunchy mama.  What, you might ask, does "semi-crunchy" mean?  Well, I'm not completely crunchy (as in granola) as in all things natural/organic/etc. for my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a CD, BF, BW mama.  Confused now?  I am a Cloth-Diapering, Breast-Feeding, Baby-Wearing Mama.  All things considered crunchy.  However, I'm not a big organic person (I don't feel it necessary to pay for that label on all my products and I don't think all the additives have harmed me that much), I don't avoid vaccinations, I don't co-sleep, and I don't plan to home-school my children.  Hence, why I'm only SEMI-crunchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those things, I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CHOSE &lt;/span&gt;to do, for my sake and my childrens.  And for the most part, I try, I believe I REALLY try not to pressure others to do those things unless they feel comfortable doing them.  I will encourage/educate people on the benefits, but if you say no, that's your choice.  For me, the cloth-diapering is mostly about saving money and being green, and the breast-feeding is about doing something natural, increasing my childrens' health (and possibly intelligence) and saving money.  I think both are smart and easy ways to benefit your child, your savings account, and the earth, but I realize it's not for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, I must step on to my soap-box about a topic that has slowly become near and dear to my heart:  car seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 years ago, when T was born, I went to BRU and got a car seat.  I paid a basic amount of attention to how big he could be when in it, and what the ratings were (from consumer reports and parents in general), but I didn't pay much more attention than that.  As directed by my pediatrician (a person with a medical degree, but not a CAR SEAT technician), I waited until he was both 1 year old and 20 pounds (for T, that was not until 17 months old) and then I turned him forward facing.  The seat I had him in at that point, is a standard convertible car seat that would hold him in a 5-point harness until he was 4o pounds or a certain height.  At that point in time, that seemed like ages away (and very big) and I wasn't really concerened about what I would 
