tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76611754559176719922024-02-02T16:24:06.787-07:00The Shelley'sRachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-73355116366556298482012-05-11T16:42:00.002-06:002012-05-11T16:42:49.888-06:00My Job & a Daily DoseToday Lance's preschool did little Mother's Day programs in each classroom. I, of course, did not have my camera. Who forgets to bring a camera to a preschool program?!! Anyway, it was about ten minutes long. The kids sang two songs, & then each gave their mom a plant and some fingerprint art. Lance's teacher, Mrs. Smart (awesome name for a teacher), called each student up & told everyone what they loved about their mom. Lance loves me because I let him paint everyday. You should have seen the awe on the face of every mom in the room when they heard that. We had heard how one little boy loved his mother because she fed him every day, and one little girl loved her mom because she was pretty, but letting your kid paint <em>every single day?!</em> I bet they were thinking about what an amazing mom I must be and how they were going to go home and get out paint for the kids no matter how much they hated the mess. And as amazing as I am (don't laugh, jerks), I had to set them all straight. I am not that nice of a mother. I mean, I let him paint, just not every day. I hate worrying about the mess & then cleaning it up. So it turns out, I am not up for Mother of the Year. But my son loves me anyway...as long as I let him paint. <br />
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Mrs. Smart also asked the kids some questions about their moms, and I love Lance's answers. <br />
<ul>
<li>My mom looks prettiest when.....<strong>she dries her hair</strong>. (I <span style="color: black;">apparently</span> should do my hair more often.)</li>
<li>My mom's favorite food is.....<strong>pizza</strong>. (All the kids answered mac 'n cheese, pizza, and corn dogs.)</li>
<li>She is happy when...<strong>I listen to her</strong>. (I am also happy when I have a coke & chocolate.)</li>
<li>My mom is.....<strong>20</strong>.....years old. (You bet I am.)</li>
<li>If my mom could go anywhere she would go to.....<strong>Toys R Us</strong>. (Most of the kids answered Costco, Walmart, and Target.)</li>
<li>Her best friend is.....<strong>Grandma Home</strong>. (Which would be Grandma Holm. Although he usually refers to her as the yellow grandma.)</li>
<li>Her job is.....<strong>to make things for people's birthdays</strong>.</li>
</ul>
The last one is my favorite. Made me laugh. And so there you have it...my job. I bet the kids were envious of Lance's mom's job. They were probably like, "What?! Your mom just makes things for birthdays all the time? <em>And</em> you get to paint every day? Awesome." <br />
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Now this next part is a <strong><span style="background-color: white; color: orange;">Daily Dose of David</span></strong>, as requested by my most awesome mother. <br />
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So, it's incredibly hard to wake David up once he's fallen asleep. And if you succeed in waking him, he usually has no idea what's going on or where he is. That usually means he spouts lots of meaningless words, phrases, thoughts, sentences, etc. He might even be talking to you as he falls asleep, and the sentence might just gradually turn into nonsense. Anyway, a few nights ago, he fell asleep on the couch. I let him sleep for a while, and then I woke him up and told him to go to bed. To which he asked, "Did you see the oval?" I paused...thought...and said, "Huh? What oval?" He said, "The oval! On TV?" I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. He said (exasperatedly), "Rachel, you don't know." He then gets all irritated with me, looks over his shoulder (into the empty living room), and says, "Come on, Lance." Lance, by the way, had been in bed for a couple hours, but David didn't seem to notice as he stalked up the stairs with his invisible son. I just sat in the living room laughing. David didn't remember anything the next morning, but he got a good laugh, too when I told him about how he stood up, looked over his shoulder at nothing, and said, "Come on, Lance," and then walked out of the room. <br />
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This Daily Dose totally made me think of my mom (not just because she requested one). She always falls asleep on the couch, and if you make any noise, she jumps a mile off the couch (yes, a mile), gasps all terrified-like, her wide open bug eyes dart around quickly, and she says something that sounds like, "mmmbbffgggrrmmbbbfff." It really does sound like that. If you're really lucky, she shouts out a random word or two like she has tourettes (no foul words, just randomly shouted words). "Lalala..ladybug!" I especially love the time the phone rang, and she picked up the TV remote. The TV went off, on, off, on, off...and when she couldn't figure out how to answer the phone, she put the remote down and went back to sleep. And I guess that would be a <span style="color: magenta;">Daily Dose of DeAnn</span>.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-60951396875858806612012-02-03T17:03:00.000-07:002012-02-03T17:03:49.397-07:00Jaxon's Beauty ParlorThese pictures are from a year ago, but I came across them today, and I couldn't believe I hadn't posted them sooner! My niece, Kendra had gotten a beauty salon kit for her birthday, and her cousin (and my nephew), Jaxon, was so excited to try it out...by doing Kendra's hair and makeup of course!<br />
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<div align="center">Applying lipstick.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkB3ZbDgNyJmijjah7vO04RPGf3Z0EqZ5joJ-H3qFYt4uJwPTB-RIOP1n7oeho4OiqerItP5P-spCELhwbcdUdY9IyFTx8bsW_mSvkhYAHaXPbwk3t-DPQKrorkl8s85faxheuQD56j-o/s1600/166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkB3ZbDgNyJmijjah7vO04RPGf3Z0EqZ5joJ-H3qFYt4uJwPTB-RIOP1n7oeho4OiqerItP5P-spCELhwbcdUdY9IyFTx8bsW_mSvkhYAHaXPbwk3t-DPQKrorkl8s85faxheuQD56j-o/s320/166.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Brushing her hair. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcJ1RmSKCOUlXsiGmoUy5s3skiPKiGVdwgmzqGl4lI1vUp2wWA7kR8v1-KZaZ73sW5uPcbb50VVjsNtywHgKO7AdC_vHH0XxrUW4_5J4Ku6zJ3KPDxYT6U_LQV4TbeZKYe-wqJ1P6ObA/s1600/170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcJ1RmSKCOUlXsiGmoUy5s3skiPKiGVdwgmzqGl4lI1vUp2wWA7kR8v1-KZaZ73sW5uPcbb50VVjsNtywHgKO7AdC_vHH0XxrUW4_5J4Ku6zJ3KPDxYT6U_LQV4TbeZKYe-wqJ1P6ObA/s320/170.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Still brushing while Kendra gives herself a haircut.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaYlbF8idJ9M5eORVueh6yWilOisegiXW6OMYUD192XXB-tKlLAKIJL-FBQE7rHNea8VDePKmvlSCAtSy-I9GDhbIvOY_b8e29RtgniuiFnDLOHwYY_fL2zEVdYofDmNTKwZJouB9LyE/s1600/171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaYlbF8idJ9M5eORVueh6yWilOisegiXW6OMYUD192XXB-tKlLAKIJL-FBQE7rHNea8VDePKmvlSCAtSy-I9GDhbIvOY_b8e29RtgniuiFnDLOHwYY_fL2zEVdYofDmNTKwZJouB9LyE/s320/171.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">And still brushing. It helps to stick out your tongue (talk about concentration).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_irfSjCGd5cYN1M0gCnU9I8OKpKqG2v7tDcuHwVLJvTxRuIMXnzgD6FUgnTCGe0hLpZZz2Cazi4_cI2aQ6trr4rSau1BFcKw4lh9tca1WeyncOVJDq8cpXOp9s-SXO_ms7SmY3uDGzI/s1600/172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_irfSjCGd5cYN1M0gCnU9I8OKpKqG2v7tDcuHwVLJvTxRuIMXnzgD6FUgnTCGe0hLpZZz2Cazi4_cI2aQ6trr4rSau1BFcKw4lh9tca1WeyncOVJDq8cpXOp9s-SXO_ms7SmY3uDGzI/s320/172.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">See, you're glad I shared them, too, right? Are they not the two cutest little redheads? Side note: While they are cousins, they like to refer to themselves as twins. Oh my heck...more cuteness! :)</div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-17871729381765654452011-03-30T13:34:00.001-06:002011-03-30T13:36:15.325-06:00Blame it on the CrackLast night David & I put the kids to bed, and Luke said (in his sweetest voice), "Mama fweep wiff me a minute, peeeeeeas." I couldn't say no. Sweet moments can be rare for my two year old, and when he wants to "nuggo," well that's just what we do. I snuggled up to my Lukey, and Lance got Daddy by default (there is only one of me after all).<br />
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Daddy hopped in Lance's bed, and Lance started yelling at him & kicking him. Fighting, crying, & screaming are all normal when Daddy's around since he takes great pleasure in tormenting the boys by trying to mess with the way they do things. For instance, you might think the world was coming to end (at least in our house) when Daddy switches the sippy cup lids so they don't match the cup, but Daddy thinks it's hilarious. And when Mommy just wants peace & quiet at the end of the day, Daddy incites a riot by insisting Lance wear pajamas that are clearly Luke's. Lance's attempts at correction are met by Daddy playing dumb. World War III ensues, and Daddy laughs...and laughs...and laughs. Daddy's favorite way to make Luke go berserk is to pretend he's beating Mommy up. Luke will start to cry and then try to save his beloved Mama by beating up Daddy. And another way to bring on the wrath of Lance...try to sleep in the crack of his bed (you know, between the wall and the mattress). This is what happened last night.<br />
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David jumped in the crack & then laughed while Lance went crazy. After he assured Lance he wasn't after the prime sleeping spot, he says to Lance, "When I was little and kids would ask me how I ran so fast, I would tell them it was because I slept in the crack." I got a serious case of the giggles when I heard that. And then he said, "And you know what? I really did believe it." More laughing. "No Rachel. I mean it. I told the kids, and then this other kid who ran even faster than me said that he slept in the crack, too!" Then it must be true. ;) I'm not sure, but I think David still believes that sleeping in the crack made him fast. At least he was little when he thought that one up.<br />
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I remember in high school there was this Japanese foreign exchange student who ran track. He was pretty fast, and he told everyone that it was because he ate bananas. And he was dead serious. We all thought it was really funny, but I bet there was one or two runners who downed the bananas before a big race (just in case). I didn't actually try out the theory. But now that I think of it...I definitely should have tested it. Couldn't have hurt. Might have helped.<br />
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The banana idea came from a high school senior. The crack concept came from a little kid. Okay, I don't really know how little. But at least David had back up on his theory. I mean, there was that other fast runner who, coincidentally, slept in the crack, too.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-19980322745688185542011-01-25T10:08:00.003-07:002011-01-25T10:08:41.912-07:00My Personal TrainerI have the best husband ever! No, please don't argue. He really is the best.<br />
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So, I've been trying to lose weight. The first week I worked my butt off (except it's still there). I also gave up my coke :( and chocolate--for the most part. David asked if he could be my trainer, and I said yes. But poor guy...I won't do a thing he says. I'm just difficult like that. And what did I have to show for that first week of pain & sadness (over having no coke or chocolate)? A whopping two pounds. I know it's something, but I was still disappointed. Of course my honey knows how to cheer me up and says to me, "Lookin' good." Then checking out my backside he says, "You must have lost those three pounds from your butt." Go ahead laugh (jerks--you don't know, maybe he's right--now I can't stop laughing). But the thing is, I love him all the more for saying such a ridiculous thing. Especially because he said three pounds when I only lost two! Be still my heart. :)Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-88412276880123276022010-12-24T11:19:00.004-07:002010-12-25T15:07:35.678-07:00Naughty or Nice?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After Lance & Luke told Santa what they wanted for Christmas, Santa asked Lance what he was getting his brother for Christmas. Lance thought for a second & replied, "Hmmmm....to be nice to my brudder." Definitely nice.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Luke is two. All two year olds are naughty by default. I think that makes them exempt from "the list." They get presents just because they are cute. Cute apparently negates naughty.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIF0jSdx_JLvFBVeJNISbKlCkJVXSnlQer98z-5c7CkWAsJtmzdu2GozRdbCqkc9cFHKE5biStLnEn_ZEls87cmfARPriWdbgUMk1bvxdT4l5jFWjSDnsm6bwoldl2Q1Y6or9yt5ZmEs/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIF0jSdx_JLvFBVeJNISbKlCkJVXSnlQer98z-5c7CkWAsJtmzdu2GozRdbCqkc9cFHKE5biStLnEn_ZEls87cmfARPriWdbgUMk1bvxdT4l5jFWjSDnsm6bwoldl2Q1Y6or9yt5ZmEs/s400/002.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As for Daddy...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I've convinced the boys that Daddy is naughty & Santa is bringing him a lump of coal. :) I asked the boys if they wanted to help wrap a present for Daddy. Lance told me Daddy wasn't getting any presents, just coal. And as much as I like the idea, what if Santa actually brings presents for David? I can't have the boys thinking Santa brings presents to naughty boys (what will I hold over their heads all through the month of December?). Daddy better be awful nice today! He's got a lot of ground to make up. What's that? What makes David naughty, you ask? Let's see...</div><ol><li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Wow Luke!! Those are some thick thighs! Just like Mama's." REALLY DAVID??? Haven't we already gone over this--this exact statement??? No wife, and I mean NO wife, would let her husband live after a comment like that!! Definitely naughty. I don't care if it's the truth. Naughty.</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"You look really nice, Rachel." Hmmmm, doing better. "Except for your hair." I think the second statement cancels the first. Naughty.</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I pulled out the Christmas ornaments this year, I found tiny round holes in some of the balls. I was baffled. But wait! Do you remember a post about David & his BB gun? And how I found out he had been shooting it INSIDE the apartment? Mystery solved. Naughty.</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then there were the wooden TV trays that looked like they had been stabbed with a knife a few times. But it wasn't knives. It was from ninja stars that had been thrown in the apartment. I don't think David gets the whole indoor vs. outdoor activity thing. Although I'm pretty sure ninja stars shouldn't be thrown anywhere. Unless you're a ninja. David isn't one. Naughty.</div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then there are the numerous toys broken by Daddy (because he was doing something he shouldn't), and all the times he has thought it was funny to make the boys cry. And about a gazillion other naughty things.</div></li>
</ol><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I guess he has done one or two nice things this year. I still think David making the nice list is a long shot. He probably thinks the same of me--I won't go into details. :) But I know Santa really well. I think I'm good.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;">**Christmas Update**</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;">Santa apparently thought David was good. But somehow the BB gun made it's way out Christmas morning. And I found a BB embedded in the wall of the sitting room. Don't worry. David assures me he will paint over it. </span></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-48384669629159557672010-12-16T09:53:00.000-07:002010-12-16T09:53:40.572-07:00Finally!!!!Of course I'm late on this....I always am. Lance turned four last month!! He had been asking every day since August if it was his birthday yet. And a month after his birthday he is still singing Happy Birthday to Lance. :) <br />
<div align="center">Lance opening presents on his actual birthday. And the banana in the picture...David wrapped it. He thought it was hilarious.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9UD8btnFbQqOjq0hmE8h9Fp6nwNc5S5nRia18DPgLASjr_b1jV4pM0N3YcuRGEfVqbR8bcTCp5fTTWjcMa4ovrWyaoSVkWndp1IK8uagYZ9tK7X-eCC6HZesNcQ6NnVJ7EJ3S4Kmfmw/s1600/201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX9UD8btnFbQqOjq0hmE8h9Fp6nwNc5S5nRia18DPgLASjr_b1jV4pM0N3YcuRGEfVqbR8bcTCp5fTTWjcMa4ovrWyaoSVkWndp1IK8uagYZ9tK7X-eCC6HZesNcQ6NnVJ7EJ3S4Kmfmw/s320/201.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3PhZsv3mkihAhdaLOkKr1Yabc8tUWlo7OCSnmNmHe5IgN-5PtzOVe3gnsD6xnstibKz_69XL0KHwy1SlUuFcFBMSDRtOeYaDBbdNCPw683V5qde0LNhcE-v_8z_OC7hjjq2Jsp7ZPG4/s1600/205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3PhZsv3mkihAhdaLOkKr1Yabc8tUWlo7OCSnmNmHe5IgN-5PtzOVe3gnsD6xnstibKz_69XL0KHwy1SlUuFcFBMSDRtOeYaDBbdNCPw683V5qde0LNhcE-v_8z_OC7hjjq2Jsp7ZPG4/s320/205.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Luke was thrilled to be able to open a present, too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXO7SS7ZX_whm7CSVVIKWvTOQBUa08eoTfYTbt4fWLYj58O3oeTtrfiuvBoiEIOqcQKjlWVWaOlQW25kVEZkB_g5tV9b_lOjV6gKR70cItPWhFc-dN19t5YTvaAxYNV46vlE407eh55M/s1600/200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyXO7SS7ZX_whm7CSVVIKWvTOQBUa08eoTfYTbt4fWLYj58O3oeTtrfiuvBoiEIOqcQKjlWVWaOlQW25kVEZkB_g5tV9b_lOjV6gKR70cItPWhFc-dN19t5YTvaAxYNV46vlE407eh55M/s320/200.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> His birthday party. Blowing out the candles on the pink birthday cake. Pink cake, pink frosting. Lance picked it. I figured the iron man action figures on it counteracted the pink. ;)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzugp1s5rjZG6Co8PkQ9nQES2QbnD6LFBBc2a45SGP_eGaLld80TTgRgAV5buQH8gHR2FdnSOgFUfuW5RhL5HxQrs9h1554ovf92z8D3nzjAqzGJa2Te2adih0JXjqPVRbUwNnTlODIc4/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzugp1s5rjZG6Co8PkQ9nQES2QbnD6LFBBc2a45SGP_eGaLld80TTgRgAV5buQH8gHR2FdnSOgFUfuW5RhL5HxQrs9h1554ovf92z8D3nzjAqzGJa2Te2adih0JXjqPVRbUwNnTlODIc4/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9ZmZoFWiYKeV0C_ltdODTUKaxbr0TjF2Fx75E4tlSC52InzUd5I9LV8uMXQTEIfWQmi3xfvOXHve-enKuc85gqg6NWPXMcAfwesyYpvr95s0krxpQV8BQT6_a8KF-yKAhfz15RkOZU8/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9ZmZoFWiYKeV0C_ltdODTUKaxbr0TjF2Fx75E4tlSC52InzUd5I9LV8uMXQTEIfWQmi3xfvOXHve-enKuc85gqg6NWPXMcAfwesyYpvr95s0krxpQV8BQT6_a8KF-yKAhfz15RkOZU8/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoOwIP-S6C49iioTDxVcTt6l14RPrMcTZH3kh69CzD7G9iYDMJJLcjDHa5T9-3umvLMEaT_VjCl7J17vX2oVsWTV3ptf4gmeFnkTifnNrZyjoU11pLVltS442qSnbYI5FrL7H3nGSCUA/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqoOwIP-S6C49iioTDxVcTt6l14RPrMcTZH3kh69CzD7G9iYDMJJLcjDHa5T9-3umvLMEaT_VjCl7J17vX2oVsWTV3ptf4gmeFnkTifnNrZyjoU11pLVltS442qSnbYI5FrL7H3nGSCUA/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> I didn't get pictures of most of the party, but I'm pretty sure Lance had lots of fun. I had my very own party organizer (thank you, Lynette!!) who made sure the party was everything a little boy could want. I love you, Lancey!! And stop growing up!Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-15333847718843971582010-11-16T15:43:00.000-07:002010-11-16T15:43:26.545-07:00Halloween Party<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">These are pictures from my nieces Halloween birthday party. I know you'll all be wondering how I got my hubby to dress up so ridiculously. The answer...<strike>he's a sucker</strike> he'll do anything for his boys. My little clown, Lance, wanted to be just that--a clown.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The Sideshow Shelley's. I made all our costumes. Notice David's pants hanging out of his costume? I outlawed them for trick-or-treating. But I didn't get pictures on Halloween. :(</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2FNWo9re2UWThVUZp1F4nko274xbHTkkCdVT7kD4ZYOMKJKwFPiGmJpmRoEBsFHKP7Nrk8iQE-aSvVeOaOPuMhvG2YddO9QUpPLI-ay-Ka9ckiqCQPP66uy_pDWviGWK1jbxh6ot_WYE/s1600/68749_166422080050952_100000494844269_511647_5232057_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2FNWo9re2UWThVUZp1F4nko274xbHTkkCdVT7kD4ZYOMKJKwFPiGmJpmRoEBsFHKP7Nrk8iQE-aSvVeOaOPuMhvG2YddO9QUpPLI-ay-Ka9ckiqCQPP66uy_pDWviGWK1jbxh6ot_WYE/s320/68749_166422080050952_100000494844269_511647_5232057_n.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiBcyz-kxfDqJ2As-0zdhz8Ezehv2D2cnoF1RIl86bEDf0yRDwy4jk7qfMvMC0ax-m71kyYqWjstt2cmmNOwhJTGTbfRvkQK5OQL38072VoNkUK7l6SagsjTHs0Lunoa9BlZ7K9l168o/s1600/69342_166424900050670_100000494844269_511677_8167263_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiBcyz-kxfDqJ2As-0zdhz8Ezehv2D2cnoF1RIl86bEDf0yRDwy4jk7qfMvMC0ax-m71kyYqWjstt2cmmNOwhJTGTbfRvkQK5OQL38072VoNkUK7l6SagsjTHs0Lunoa9BlZ7K9l168o/s320/69342_166424900050670_100000494844269_511677_8167263_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZjCbmnMRqBOr2xkV-zD_rXu9NSPAHnSkNsKeUpl9e_SoQT-iWCeykF1Z1qxVbdHIgiZH9CM1Uj3555_XrWNhjkw62hHjPGrvRs6GNjAgxdzngwGfbMHsO36f9dVzNrrqCi-BMACLAqs/s1600/65696_166425033383990_100000494844269_511681_7486793_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZjCbmnMRqBOr2xkV-zD_rXu9NSPAHnSkNsKeUpl9e_SoQT-iWCeykF1Z1qxVbdHIgiZH9CM1Uj3555_XrWNhjkw62hHjPGrvRs6GNjAgxdzngwGfbMHsO36f9dVzNrrqCi-BMACLAqs/s320/65696_166425033383990_100000494844269_511681_7486793_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Me, my mom, and my sisters.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQn__vtVtOmCSCjvM4lo1fTYDZihkNWBeaR76-X2MYpptfJ1WS097fU8bDwXxLrKvKqE3T7Q-rE48RJLY4tTSxcKC81YV3qwdW_uV57AsG0UrUjQiXG-un9OwXm0m27tE82SINmd0JyU/s1600/67275_166419646717862_100000494844269_511637_226293_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQn__vtVtOmCSCjvM4lo1fTYDZihkNWBeaR76-X2MYpptfJ1WS097fU8bDwXxLrKvKqE3T7Q-rE48RJLY4tTSxcKC81YV3qwdW_uV57AsG0UrUjQiXG-un9OwXm0m27tE82SINmd0JyU/s320/67275_166419646717862_100000494844269_511637_226293_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">My mom & dad. I don't think my dad had ever dressed up for Halloween before. And he's wearing tights!!! :) We told her to make him walk the plank if he acted up.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3z4Ezs5cxI7yhmQO24l991Wzk_7Zu46tKhGVK3LWn52tkNcnQ407CJ7PLES9bVZ5yo2Tu8oVmq_Bgc-5k8L1QYvARzkSOmbHA5k51CVH95VtxOElvF21JSO8oWpud-orgqPvvLc1hr9E/s1600/68879_166424693384024_100000494844269_511669_428760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3z4Ezs5cxI7yhmQO24l991Wzk_7Zu46tKhGVK3LWn52tkNcnQ407CJ7PLES9bVZ5yo2Tu8oVmq_Bgc-5k8L1QYvARzkSOmbHA5k51CVH95VtxOElvF21JSO8oWpud-orgqPvvLc1hr9E/s320/68879_166424693384024_100000494844269_511669_428760_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">The Wild (and wicked) Whitts. They looked awesome!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZjKxOcc554jcK30_6UHJ2Ct10ikRV3c0F_WDbeS2vd9tN6qfLI9gPn-moj0mn5VIsY2xjN2GP9raYrYki6yMI8-elxByN18t9EKpD80oRfC4YkeUSe9FMwDSPRzryoCTnn7jLc8adyO0/s1600/66235_166422433384250_100000494844269_511651_5382781_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZjKxOcc554jcK30_6UHJ2Ct10ikRV3c0F_WDbeS2vd9tN6qfLI9gPn-moj0mn5VIsY2xjN2GP9raYrYki6yMI8-elxByN18t9EKpD80oRfC4YkeUSe9FMwDSPRzryoCTnn7jLc8adyO0/s320/66235_166422433384250_100000494844269_511651_5382781_n.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">And Dustin looked absolutely CRAZY!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy_F_UFsa97EpTc4spEPZI2g-fCirj5nBGa-Na2K8OK53-Q818NXBM54Z3asE4wEfwd65aGikjXwLxXjTEMLaO0exxSk6pWkk6NOO-_g-owkCE-BItJnZWa16kVOfTEleyaDB8903shY/s1600/69128_166425086717318_100000494844269_511682_5102410_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIy_F_UFsa97EpTc4spEPZI2g-fCirj5nBGa-Na2K8OK53-Q818NXBM54Z3asE4wEfwd65aGikjXwLxXjTEMLaO0exxSk6pWkk6NOO-_g-owkCE-BItJnZWa16kVOfTEleyaDB8903shY/s320/69128_166425086717318_100000494844269_511682_5102410_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjAmPLaaNHCVmyHRrWjMEtxxi9ZZmwqXFBp6YMxWGJySjgNAUKsEqLwQLO-8gD8hpS_i1sUa7SkinnhGq6fVVj4IsFhGSHfiYfuhiv3GKwQelRSxcNJdYuNt3gp1Vp6glBpaUT6HFxjsE/s1600/69429_166425100050650_100000494844269_511683_5373925_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjAmPLaaNHCVmyHRrWjMEtxxi9ZZmwqXFBp6YMxWGJySjgNAUKsEqLwQLO-8gD8hpS_i1sUa7SkinnhGq6fVVj4IsFhGSHfiYfuhiv3GKwQelRSxcNJdYuNt3gp1Vp6glBpaUT6HFxjsE/s320/69429_166425100050650_100000494844269_511683_5373925_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Cruella & her crew, the Rowdy Robertsons. Cruella (who threw a fantastic party) is holding the birthday dalmatian. Mrs. DeVille also made all of these costumes.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOij0joEmSa8K8btnG306QrehRonC-YpAYcsYd-csYPEHI_mr4G12oTpH_SdR1D1QI7_v_d_FLioXG0dVloRn9Hxylxw5AJ_YtZC9UjxYXq-v3TMWuxZvbDgj_HFDiTW6TF1yvFbA6mw/s1600/71944_166239486735878_100000494844269_510607_2060411_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOij0joEmSa8K8btnG306QrehRonC-YpAYcsYd-csYPEHI_mr4G12oTpH_SdR1D1QI7_v_d_FLioXG0dVloRn9Hxylxw5AJ_YtZC9UjxYXq-v3TMWuxZvbDgj_HFDiTW6TF1yvFbA6mw/s320/71944_166239486735878_100000494844269_510607_2060411_n.jpg" width="228" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Bibbity Bobbity Boo...the Schofieldians!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xbIjArut03jlYLtQ-IVagIinmnVSQ7LKKegl2r0era8_YpfBtmSp4aFXa1OhQw9A3nAb7Fw0NhAZfzC-hxYRyvl1o1Elf-wa_jyMZVN6ogzlx2efVd3y15_GzwIRl347dtuiVaZPA78/s1600/73173_166422456717581_100000494844269_511652_4770336_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xbIjArut03jlYLtQ-IVagIinmnVSQ7LKKegl2r0era8_YpfBtmSp4aFXa1OhQw9A3nAb7Fw0NhAZfzC-hxYRyvl1o1Elf-wa_jyMZVN6ogzlx2efVd3y15_GzwIRl347dtuiVaZPA78/s320/73173_166422456717581_100000494844269_511652_4770336_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Kenderella in her awesome dress (which I helped make 'cause I am awesome, too *wink*).</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZatboLcC5e4c3jF3zax7LPETMKW6Z1LmIv30hwWu6N2TpDJW9lHwW68JnCNfBpxCBIRPxCLThmxHwWe_DSpDdBdPssnifKvG-WtPdg2ucN9YaUPp43ATyDmTWo951eA-6aUGIJHX5Y8/s1600/72099_166424996717327_100000494844269_511680_2197822_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZatboLcC5e4c3jF3zax7LPETMKW6Z1LmIv30hwWu6N2TpDJW9lHwW68JnCNfBpxCBIRPxCLThmxHwWe_DSpDdBdPssnifKvG-WtPdg2ucN9YaUPp43ATyDmTWo951eA-6aUGIJHX5Y8/s320/72099_166424996717327_100000494844269_511680_2197822_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-91971017323446507342010-11-16T15:16:00.000-07:002010-11-16T15:16:48.903-07:00Pumpkin CarvingI really dread carving pumpkins. I usually get stuck gutting the pumpkins while David carves out <strike>ridiculous</strike> <strike>hideous</strike> interesting faces. This year was no exception. I cleaned out pumpkins the whole time while David destroyed the pumpkins. I didn't take pictures of the finished products because, well, they were ugly. And not in the "I tried my best" kind of way...they were really, really ugly. I almost didn't put them out on the porch. But since the neighbors carved pumpkins with us, they knew whose handiwork was on display. The highlight of the pumpkin carving festivities...David, his sawzall, and his pumpkin mask.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Boys and their toys. He really did use a sawzall to carve the pumpkins. And I about had a heart attack.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvUXZpk6HyHSQTLGbgAlq2pS17URCgUqWZxqBgm0UT10pGXbvgM0hf5tS3Njaxuqu9qoggxAg_1st0HL4wVymx3x-aFLV23o4EN8KYr8pi4_mxoeVFnLpE_gh7yztIN-EyrnfagN8EgM/s1600/192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUvUXZpk6HyHSQTLGbgAlq2pS17URCgUqWZxqBgm0UT10pGXbvgM0hf5tS3Njaxuqu9qoggxAg_1st0HL4wVymx3x-aFLV23o4EN8KYr8pi4_mxoeVFnLpE_gh7yztIN-EyrnfagN8EgM/s320/192.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This little hilarious stunt lasted for. ev. er. The neighbors laughed a lot, and I rolled my eyes a lot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj94brmr2Tg9T0eG6DWXR0brRnng7r7AfG6zXfNGeW8Ttb7uv-5w3a8srl0gZXIe-0Lv3k-G-jxNB8mYLLETZOgXEb00BIUk1NBQjP_kDZ00ttmPXIoMAyC9-kb2qguLVD1z70ADo1M1w/s1600/195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj94brmr2Tg9T0eG6DWXR0brRnng7r7AfG6zXfNGeW8Ttb7uv-5w3a8srl0gZXIe-0Lv3k-G-jxNB8mYLLETZOgXEb00BIUk1NBQjP_kDZ00ttmPXIoMAyC9-kb2qguLVD1z70ADo1M1w/s320/195.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh, and the pumpkin...actually ended up on the porch. After trick-or-treating & seeing all the pumpkins in the neighborhood, I can safely say that we had the ugliest pumpkins right in front of our house. :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next year, David won't be invited to our pumpkin carving party. Unless he comes as the entertainment. </div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-60195067609779387212010-11-16T14:55:00.000-07:002010-11-16T14:55:47.424-07:00My 2 Year Old<div align="center">The Incredible Luke turned 2 this summer!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pGte4tH3-3OTl34eWKDy9IQz4r5pJyM8m7zge9H2xewHTDZJtQ-Xq4K35iOD4HVyWia-0kbxXrYbMQY4MVBnGrxojSbgZ1_Q2KZx0DyaJsDoT-s_zfSbJAs0s5h70b7qhyphenhyphen2XKkUOupI/s1600/099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7pGte4tH3-3OTl34eWKDy9IQz4r5pJyM8m7zge9H2xewHTDZJtQ-Xq4K35iOD4HVyWia-0kbxXrYbMQY4MVBnGrxojSbgZ1_Q2KZx0DyaJsDoT-s_zfSbJAs0s5h70b7qhyphenhyphen2XKkUOupI/s320/099.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Aunt Julie made the cute cake.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-f8XFx2f95oCKCni3IOFqe4TtUDr_vQ1vIEBYOECyQ6-3iFmxMGg_vZfZH0jNqzo-EFPxPrT8p7GinM0ZUkZi1ES73v48nw0fN6LcJ0FH5N0tnP_-DF4bXRym6p-hM4cSJTMn1hi2mKk/s1600/153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-f8XFx2f95oCKCni3IOFqe4TtUDr_vQ1vIEBYOECyQ6-3iFmxMGg_vZfZH0jNqzo-EFPxPrT8p7GinM0ZUkZi1ES73v48nw0fN6LcJ0FH5N0tnP_-DF4bXRym6p-hM4cSJTMn1hi2mKk/s320/153.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Woody helped Luke blow out the candle.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfXHCsOsfHPUR7JdX6b5ZefA5ReGdEAV09IbKrxWjDLYrZtPZEAxH2F0m8Cp767yB-YbqOJpxt-IE9iblJu_-f5lnOIb9NiemFBaHRWGjOyY82GO1MynP_WXC_D5G7aoXa3E3OZL0-Mg/s1600/134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfXHCsOsfHPUR7JdX6b5ZefA5ReGdEAV09IbKrxWjDLYrZtPZEAxH2F0m8Cp767yB-YbqOJpxt-IE9iblJu_-f5lnOIb9NiemFBaHRWGjOyY82GO1MynP_WXC_D5G7aoXa3E3OZL0-Mg/s320/134.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Opening presents</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX94mWYzavsXlcWpjcJNA-RaYFFHbHCaM4_BF8QoblRUmw4o-tnuREPffM3fPwXEgyHGF3aYk8rf7KVpvqSMMj_ut8nNIIrobMjZClLFuw9GU0Xib1eH2f_UNUwcVwks1tDHjNPTlA9kU/s1600/121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX94mWYzavsXlcWpjcJNA-RaYFFHbHCaM4_BF8QoblRUmw4o-tnuREPffM3fPwXEgyHGF3aYk8rf7KVpvqSMMj_ut8nNIIrobMjZClLFuw9GU0Xib1eH2f_UNUwcVwks1tDHjNPTlA9kU/s320/121.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmcfMIT4OPhT0gSJ6SKdYq9xMeTG0rRoOn6BqL-KWLe42CgTWNsukiBzjS4FgMMh5cRfgLgtDg_TLntQoQpDKUMRwSttlPpCs1_CCYq03kx4vSvB9_DXA7wDX9gy3S45nlk7WuwC4ftM/s1600/101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmcfMIT4OPhT0gSJ6SKdYq9xMeTG0rRoOn6BqL-KWLe42CgTWNsukiBzjS4FgMMh5cRfgLgtDg_TLntQoQpDKUMRwSttlPpCs1_CCYq03kx4vSvB9_DXA7wDX9gy3S45nlk7WuwC4ftM/s320/101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I sent David for a superhero kind of pinata...this is what he brought home.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSQc9SiKG-XvXgSjWzXwmmBsuSjr7Bjy0CV7C8OdFAqLWeJnQV6TLMhyphenhyphen3Xf-sWYWBRRjFu94ep8ZV1RwuLrzo2gYsa6epJpFiNB7CBZY_vFtviYHDfPN09CeCAuT3v2E-lZORuc1eryY/s1600/138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSQc9SiKG-XvXgSjWzXwmmBsuSjr7Bjy0CV7C8OdFAqLWeJnQV6TLMhyphenhyphen3Xf-sWYWBRRjFu94ep8ZV1RwuLrzo2gYsa6epJpFiNB7CBZY_vFtviYHDfPN09CeCAuT3v2E-lZORuc1eryY/s320/138.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">These are the capes I made for the guests.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc89QfdWBTzUcv8SbFBZE3LUMCBekw8O791EF-IwNxcsGiYHhbnqq4H7F5ypN2w6gR_G3zEySQVuDjnT22LZTZ2VZloas6DLi7fR-aJ8Nf2w-w8vcmAm0SYGoo0wFEAX0qUQoHqRrB16g/s1600/087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc89QfdWBTzUcv8SbFBZE3LUMCBekw8O791EF-IwNxcsGiYHhbnqq4H7F5ypN2w6gR_G3zEySQVuDjnT22LZTZ2VZloas6DLi7fR-aJ8Nf2w-w8vcmAm0SYGoo0wFEAX0qUQoHqRrB16g/s320/087.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">If you can't tell, this one is Hulk's fist. I drew all the applique's for the capes, and I'm no artist. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDnDw6j1v50LAELcRqoPt5IrUXat_YmiHIU6oZPVJ33OzVpPuTNPJCx6jX8mI8aENIWaYVap5Avdu5sZZiGGniSKuzM2E6P4nhXjcmBOLLfzJVCRK2g-aHi30wCBejOm7XYJ1hucG9p4/s1600/092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDnDw6j1v50LAELcRqoPt5IrUXat_YmiHIU6oZPVJ33OzVpPuTNPJCx6jX8mI8aENIWaYVap5Avdu5sZZiGGniSKuzM2E6P4nhXjcmBOLLfzJVCRK2g-aHi30wCBejOm7XYJ1hucG9p4/s320/092.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">I added ruffles to the girlie capes. :) And the Ben 10 cape was a special request.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kqb4_2HjhwU1AA6J6-pNYBfKzvouVbLzlPhBi9lLYWu6pk4ge3nHwV4U3fzYnsykc4jF5-KOdRTlDAinM78YfuAvbFyld-oeE0tqnivN07yb7mbZM3yvU-BgC7Ks7ITFyKL__b2frZA/s1600/capes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-kqb4_2HjhwU1AA6J6-pNYBfKzvouVbLzlPhBi9lLYWu6pk4ge3nHwV4U3fzYnsykc4jF5-KOdRTlDAinM78YfuAvbFyld-oeE0tqnivN07yb7mbZM3yvU-BgC7Ks7ITFyKL__b2frZA/s320/capes.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">He's my rough-and-tumble boy. He's always a superhero. Anything in his hands becomes a gun, sword, or weapon of some sort. He's noisy & dirty. He destroys all in his path. And yet, he is my cuddly, huggy, kissy boy. He brings so much love, laughter, and joy into our home. I am so grateful that this little boy was sent to our family & that I get to be his mommy. I love you, my Lukey!!</div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-79350934505441884552010-01-14T13:46:00.005-07:002010-01-15T09:45:02.032-07:00Kisses!!This is my favorite little pucker face! And below him is another cute little pucker face. Can you tell they're related? Pucker faces, curly hair, and all. :) It's his cousin Brylen who is only a couple months younger than Luke. Now anybody wanna kiss?<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426703000228751522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3VjvQvtEVqKhCF4f5A1iviUMX_s6E0zcO1JINx-U_PKv99NVmeBK6q6ryip5N9QmibGuP_JTEzcZwiH2nyLkTNk3Jh7u8TFPQd1A562w61Vnb-5gzsZ5TTScAM2FwQLchecLtMAqogaI/s320/DSCN1724.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426701706012456130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2p4_hJpOIf5JNu2cqzxoQuEeXjcsjUcwN2IZqykGVEGl8GlfsSXwPTt4fc23wZSErlvRCZfhye6WdnR_RsYo6qxdywhy6XrzNZMydTe-gVwPE75u6iei82qymCQGs8F7mB2qsi18ato/s320/brylen" border="0" /></div><br /><p>And I hope this <strong><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Daily Dose of David</span></em></strong> has you laughing as hard as I was when it happened! It was probably a month ago when I crashed into bed exhausted & David fell asleep instantly & was snoring. Loudly!! I knew there was no way I was going to be able to sleep. But because he had just gone to sleep, I knew that if I pushed him to roll over or shook him, he was going to yell at me for waking him up (and for pushing or shaking him). So I reached over & rubbed his back. I was thinking that maybe he was awake just enough that when I rubbed his back he would move & stop snoring. And that's when I heard, "That was really nice." Huh? And before I could reply he said, "No, I mean it. That was really nice of you." Huh? some more. And the kicker? "What dealership do you work for? Toyota?" And as I began giggling...more snoring. But who cares about the snoring when you're laughing so hard you're sure you're going to wake up the husband & the kids! </p>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-25823198383234788562009-12-09T11:56:00.003-07:002009-12-09T12:13:56.197-07:00As PromisedQuite a while ago I promised my mom a new <strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">Daily Dose of David</span></em></strong>. But I thought I should make good on my promise. It's the least I could do after all she does for me. And then maybe I'll get my butt in gear & catch up on 4 months of back-blogging! This is a start, at least.<br /><br />David: Hey Rachel! How do you spell your name?<br />Me: What do you mean how do I spell my name? How long have we been married, and you can't spell my name?!!<br />David: I'm just having a brain fart, and I can't remember how to spell it.<br />Me: Well, I'm not helping you 'cause you should know how to spell my name by now!<br />David: I just need to know if it's "ael" or "eal."<br />Me: .............It's neither, David.<br />David: Huh?<br /><br />What's that, Mom? You want another? David was bathing the boys while I was chatting on the phone with my mom. This is what she heard.<br /><br />David: Rachel, I need your help.<br />Me: Just a minute. I'm on the phone.<br />David: Hurry, I need your help NOW!<br />Me (stomping into the bathroom): WHAT? I'm busy! What do you need?!<br />David (pointing to the alphabet stuck to the walls above the bathtub): I'm trying to teach the boys the alphabet & counting, but they aren't paying attention!<br />Me: ..............*rolling eyes, walking away*Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-70791557647319214612009-08-19T13:47:00.004-06:002009-08-19T14:08:37.015-06:00Happy Birthmonth to YouThis butt turned <strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;">29</span></em></strong> today. It celebrates not only it's <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">birthday</span></em></strong>, but also it's <strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">birthmonth</span></em></strong>. That would be a month long celebration of the month of it's birth.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371769113580937058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCH465ZIiq6r0x7Ewd90YpYR4J8h2-V6HD3yqrV4Ugl19I5a1nzvK4KKO640iPn1XPWn6PPnVCaq1seQ2PLjrtJ9q9gQBeN86Gf7uCdc627w9lbxnZgn7JCGS5cV79IcSq-Gj_kEGHBPU/s320/IMGP0205.JPG" border="0" />And this is the face that belongs to the butt that celebrates all month and deserves the <em><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Happiest</strong></span></em> of all <em><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>Birthdays</strong></span></em>!<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371769123900613058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8v25HInX6MoMhzb8JPvZBsRioQW1pAaQ34Kl2IzC5hyphenhyphenNAtvpgz5_k0HZPQn7sUinYNUuhMIuFBoXYmYHv_PeZUs1nGWqO66rs-Pa4PEm0iTW6KUmHUgOUtiKpgWk0s32xkY_wSQVK_8/s320/August_2008_017.JPG" border="0" /><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Happy Birthday</span></em></strong> to a wonderful, talented, funny, creative, kind, generous, beautiful, and all-around amazing sister!!! May you get absolutely everything you wish for. And may you be <strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;">29</span></em></strong> forever. Who am I kidding? I can't wait until you're 30. :)</div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-19424463049283931462009-06-09T14:57:00.006-06:002009-06-10T11:05:58.955-06:00Fair FunThis weekend we were happy to see a little fair setting up with lots of kiddie rides. We missed it last year, and I was really excited to be able to take Lance this year. I couldn't wait to watch his little face & see his reaction to the rides. And I was definitely not disappointed. <div><div><br /><div><div>He loved all the rides. Except for maybe Dizzy Dragons, and it was David's fault that Lance didn't like that one. David rode with him & spun the dragon so fast that poor Lance laid down on the bench & waited for the ride to end (which surprisingly didn't stop David from continuing to spin). All the other rides were big hits with the little roller coaster being his favorite. He smiled & woo hoo-ed more than he ever has. And he cried his little eyes out when he couldn't ride the big "fweens" with Daddy. He tried with all his might to climb the barrier to get on the swings. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just carried Luke from ride to ride to watch Lance (and sometimes Daddy). It was super windy, and Luke was pretty fussy the whole time. He perked right up, though when we ate hot dogs & candy apples. Which we ate extremely fast because Lance was itchin' to get on some more rides. And for two days after the fair, the crook of my arm was stiff & sore from carrying around my lump of Luke--he's a big boy! </div><div><br /></div><div>Lance rode all the rides a couple times before we carried him away kicking & screaming. I'm sure he would have ridden rides & played & danced until they kicked us out, but Mom & Dad & Luke were all tired. I did manage to get a few pictures, and we all had lots of fun. But none so much as Lance.</div><div></div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345439311849458482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyrWbV9YuXcDn1w8bc41iJwpENPJ7imxyeXJvLGhw37bC3LHu0xwuNqIambPXRleu1QnNf9K30v8EHmhkMGMNnhcevXeCOUMm3_kTYYqsvCCdtb9YrPDyUmkNLmNj_w17-_Zy9MvWDqY/s320/DSCN1574.JPG" border="0" />My two big boys riding their buckin' broncs.</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345439315052598450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0Rzo1BzgJpVVQdbt3JiJC-y6ykTvlMa4iGeYwnSo4FZS1MOE-l08dZyLq1xvYeLwJYvc2brRy7Djj12xv9E0o3iFLzBFnlshnDqQ5mbvR3DzA81hRl2nY1k1mgSN9lwDykCvGSid_bo/s320/DSCN1576.JPG" border="0" />Cars--it's a boy thing, & it starts young. :) <div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345439325896389778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUAru8iQ1feuvvP0nyQfZ7m6UM4wfS_o_oo_nfdhi0HSEaSJriBESSsnvalKYJ-Wl-XDayo_b1qfzrslBxyXJiIZ86ExJBnsR8OpT_wezOcxS5IiXoaVhkYHlo9PbLNsDJQjzmR8Vm4Cs/s320/DSCN1580.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345439321940190626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDf0BnY-NigXxkEVDCGI6J5rQ6mKMwOxAdHjOkvXEndxp119Tzegh03n1dLs4IOH3C4_-hVSzePdl2dVdsvfZXWUwlkk1qJjZ47QOmbDzZ3TfOCvIqZyry0mvhcW8-VQ2rTs2nd3TjS3g/s320/DSCN1578.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345439328596594162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4RuYLTIu0gyA9dNk6Y2J8_6eAFvtMnUEO28FmYUKsggzPW9eily4f99fNfc0fymyZ6h6MOja27GDoHlLF5JMgoI_d9-wrE-6kD6gvrgXZncYLb0XMvlj10_lhyopP3toqk6tub3C3BxA/s320/DSCN1585.JPG" border="0" />The slides were another favorite. <div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345441215413912978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhST6di_uobkIB_8bL-gmgb6CdV9T_dPKYrbxY2Yt2QUbmHzzE2f39GYPV3esRKI3Bo0eVO7d1xHNygH4ngaDZGc14DWS2lFccrar8ITTx_G7smVAYWhAFdK_wW5WbYIMKnIQGAwFq9mpU/s320/DSCN1588.JPG" border="0" />Engineer like Grandpa.</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345441220065677442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpGGRAJm-9Q1_oMfSuHGPTjuqLAp1f8CmVgqdSNY55yWAoA86RUFzNPLMH134LWEgkx1KFOH44oHrtD0_DxtpfqGUVA5o6S9aQw1c1eCIkDbjGaGSs45XXXShbpNOeuYRbiHL_TGDdOhg/s320/DSCN1590.JPG" border="0" />It looks like he's mid-woo hoo here. <div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345441221075868018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTnjZykNutjWlkWOteQU_D7k5kgpGMFtGcf3wk7TAAYJmkYptHT5wcxrfZ0kpRikMhQdS9DzgrfWZTzfiNXt36GAsbmqPiFjYGzbi5HbXHe88Dpmwf8BKMhdXdAQZxdjtrXOLolZXNljs/s320/DSCN1593.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345441227536432802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CGK7vDp-l4Y1-asdnFCFW59H0MBApmdRLVu5jnJyPwbVoLY86s71ERwzE_EG_9uO8yP4pSyZmDLH11Yp_n54HYanE5TxPhR9qf_OkcWbn72ebFsHLn6O8z8OWg0Vte0-fDBT7bMK3Pk/s320/DSCN1595.JPG" border="0" />My biggest boy needed help getting buckled into his "fween."</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345441232674216018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9L2Oqyby3OTEVF1A_vU1jf1_8RqUtZMFphXwDQL0yyHml0ktdk_TRaDymtUU08tJbUuhS9afXBFguimp9sMD0XCRuQgfOvV4VGJH2ULYU3ec_Jvy0UZ9v9K204yidFDdXsU2Ajd3axhw/s320/DSCN1596.JPG" border="0" />There, all safe. </div></div></div></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-2325123680964088722009-06-09T11:56:00.003-06:002009-06-09T12:15:27.304-06:00Awwwww, How Sweet!This is one of those posts that David thinks is completely lame. And yet, I'm going to share it anyway. It was a rare moment of blatant sweetness from my hubby, so how could I not share it.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345392321061657506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-bPnP85sGnXBvsaDTBDpk0gEaj4Ydm0ryOnxnBCgG3tGR595Cn-PUv_66ErWT5TO5NbItljp3iwSv3dy1f8pHSifJmefNNtrP8lT7evAvJvAo5ANs5WSJNFDNOz2cy1K6zrUOkzY4hdI/s400/DSCN1571.JPG" border="0" /><br />The heart was hand-crafted with love out of an apple.<br /><br />Right before he presented me with this wonderful sandwich of love :) he told me I was hot and said something very nice about my boo-tay. Don't remember what he said. Doesn't matter. All that matters is that it was nice. Don't get me wrong, I have a wonderful husband. But this kind of display of affection? Not to mention he made me a sandwich! And no ladies...he wasn't buttering me up. I had to clear that up before my sisters wrote completely inappropriate comments about my husbands good intentions.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-45238184154850832592009-06-06T23:15:00.005-06:002009-06-09T11:54:39.519-06:00Our One Warm(ish) DayWe have had weeks of clouds, thunderstorms, rain, & wind. For the most part, the temperature stays in the 50's & 60's. It's really my kind of weather, since I hate the heat (and the heat will be here soon enough). But it's not great for taking the boys out to play. And the forecast shows nothing but them same in the near future. I'm sharing some pics that were taken a while ago. They were taken on a rare sunny day where the temp was in the 70's. We made the most of the day with some fishing on the little lake behind our apartment and a swim in the pool that is literally steps outside our back door. Oh, and a little play time at the playground right next to the lake. Talk about convenient. I love where we live. Let me clear that up. I love the location of our apartment. :)<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345374138159002482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH37hTG_GumgO4X1ICbMmFLaSuQ0of2EkidnUOfUrmliShm_8MYC5OfgyTZQaTFIQfEpFUMMkAerTQ1Y5Ae462NItOSJ1PT49rwssC6NIsseBYYeqyi-0ARBRU-h6CQzGRIBEuz3mk89I/s320/DSCN1518.JPG" border="0" /> See that tiny speck? That's David & Lance in the tiny raft.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345374142076813570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblk_gllqeDbVFNRqxGySCQTuIGLRzrTByvSvLPkGimpdV1ATt2LylTbBOW780keaRbvEajNTDbtRVseHmdyBSlqZSp3O0GUtKwVf-UWCcxmIQxHu-jGO4-gm4_FHr8V2xTt1En3SJdwo/s320/DSCN1524.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Here's David & Luke. He took the boys out one at a time. And didn't get much fishing in at all. He spent most of his time with Lance trying to keep him from jumping into the lake. And Luke is just so grabby that there was no way to keep the fishing pole from him. But I think they all had fun.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345374129610842626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7G5FE_W9vier3bkZUxZLlU_0SDVMUZ71hVbT8OLEwmqwPHt0xn4jQb35hk9UiAkX6hflXyDcZT4GnaDjtzUb6KeKa1fPZI5st-mwpCCEs5rNv58omwRfTVj0w8A9nikW0HdF-iMIVE8/s320/DSCN1522.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>While David & Lance were out on the lake, I thought I would lay out a blanket for me & Luke & I could read. But as I've already mentioned, Luke is so stinkin' grabby. There would be no reading for me, but we enjoyed the sunny day relaxing on the grass. And funny enough, Luke hates grass as much as his big brother did. Put him on a blanket in the grass, and he's goin' nowhere. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345374148223814082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXi4OjErEyMqh9guEt83HpcKNhbDBxSKQvJP1opv3TIecxpG_es9EbOO4RZj8tn8ptSAa8ZI8JXPwIX-gbUaavautpdHu1sBMQEew3zh-2fM5sdikFCQ4TQA_cgiwGh2M9wkgjMCFpW9U/s320/DSCN1533.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Later we took the boys to the pool. David wanted to see how well the life jackets worked (just to be certain). Lance loved "fweening" in the pool with his life jacket, but Luke just kind of lay there unmoving. He was very unimpressed by his personal floatation device. His face in the next picture shows just what he thought. And if you can't tell...he's showing me his irritation (working up to mad). Lance, on the other hand, crawled aboard the S.S.Daddy because that's what dad's are for.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345374157537172098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Jz7aW4PkBUzYhBkTrV5F5-3fII-GGPjQfWsF6SregAcf_cFQMC2shoQ-rspfHEoCnEhUSwNxuMDoTisRmY-FYoumv6KIhQTCjwWAY6bDhhwHK5HQCYq2r2rUvB_lurRi7XExfMNDaRQ/s320/DSCN1535.JPG" border="0" /> </p>And can you tell from the pool pictures that our rare moment of sunshine had already passed by the time we were at the pool? But I'll take what I can get. :)Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-4766508675645722382009-06-04T11:37:00.005-06:002009-06-04T18:15:27.882-06:00Corrections......to my last post as per David.<br /><br />Last night David started reading over my shoulder as I finished up my post. He NEVER reads my blog. Has no clue what I blog about. He's not even interested. But last night when he caught a glimpse of his name, he decided he should know what I was writing about him. This brought about some discussions about what he thinks I should not blog about. I've taken his thoughts into consideration & decided to make a couple corrections.<br /><br />In my last post, I mentioned a little scuffle over who got the TV remote. This made David's jaw drop open & eyes pop out of their sockets. Apparently, he thinks this would give people the idea that we watch TV. His exact words, "Now everyone is going to think we watch TV! We are not TV watchers! That makes it sound like all we do is sit around & watch TV! Oh, the horror!" Okay, he didn't say 'oh, the horror,' but he was dramatic enough that he might as well have said it. So to correct my previous error, *ahem* we would,um...never take advantage of the free cable (even though this is the only time since we were married that we have had TV), and we certainly would never, um...waste our precious time on watching TV. Nope, not us. Never. We were only fighting for the remote because, um...we were. That's all. Oh, and I should add that we, um...NEVER EVER sit on the couch. Who would do such a thing?! Yeah, in our spare time in the evenings before bed, we like to, um...do calisthenics & stuff. And I guess I should clarify that I, um...never sit down at the computer to blog. No, I would never do that. In fact, I, um...run in place while I type. Yeah, sure, that's what I do.<br /><br />As for David at a spa? I don't know what I was thinking. He would never go to a girly spa. He's way too macho & masculine for that. Silly me. He would, um...never go to a spa for a relaxing massage, and, um...never sit around in a robe afterward in a room with a bunch of women all lying around on chaise loungers, some sleeping, some chatting, all drinking expensive bottled water. Why, even as I type that, it sounds way to, um...girly for David. Besides, even if he were to do that, he probably would have been so relaxed that he would drool on the sandaled foot of the masseuse. And that would be way too embarrassing. He would NEVER do that.<br /><br />Whew! I feel so much better having cleared that up. ;)Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-56945394261021676202009-06-03T22:29:00.008-06:002009-06-04T00:02:00.765-06:00Memorial Weekend - What a Dinger!It's 10:30 pm, all the boys are sleeping, and have been for a couple hours. I should be sleeping, but instead I'm sitting at the computer enjoying absolute silence. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ahhhhhhhh</span>, it's wonderful. So what better way to spend my oh so quiet time than blogging?<br /><br />I have so many things to blog that I'll probably never catch up, but I guess I can start with our Memorial Day weekend. It was pretty much fishing, fishing, & more fishing. David can't wait to camp every weekend, but since it's still too cold to camp here, it's fishing every weekend--and some days after he gets off work. Lance runs to the door when Daddy gets home & starts getting his shoes on, all the while saying, "Go <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fissing</span>. Get pole. 'Mon Daddy."<br /><br />It has rained every day here for about 3 weeks, and Memorial weekend was no exception. But that did not keep my avid fishermen from enjoying a few days at the lake. The first day, I stayed home with Luke who had a fever & let the two big boys ;) go alone. It poured that day, and David put out a tarp. The two of them laid under it & waited for the bells on their poles to jingle. They would run to reel in their catches, throw them back in the lake, and run back to their shelter. Lance caught his first fish. He was extremely excited to reel it in, but would absolutely not touch it.<br /><br />The next day, I made David take me with them. We drove about an hour & a half to a lake we'd never been to...only to find out there wasn't a place where you could fish from the shore. David tried to fish, but with no success. But we had fun roasting hot dogs & marshmallows. Lance played in the dirt, pretended to eat marshmallows--taking bites & spitting them on the ground, and tried to feed Luke rocks. I really only turned my back for half a second when I heard, "Here <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Wukey</span>, eat <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wock</span>!" I turned around to see Lance trying to shove a rock in Luke's mouth. It was a good thing Luke refused to open his mouth. Usually he eats anything in front of him.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343342807622477010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipGBVfsDS4LzvQlT57OW9ldAL_WPfaBimyx_RF_l0TG9QoaRpkL76Cyl406Lm9d1-2-ERycoj07neoA6eSjeUSLB5mMno_LqA0XJau9nfLTZWg7VpkHPdV7S_CrcZYLSc-tTJ4VX5Uecc/s320/DSCN1545.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343342812358225858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YD4OdOSiNHLvPtlXfUThPVAemfUyx7-XxUdFkgqh4AIehC32X5_PF9MgWiePUFAETWuWdPDvpjNb1Ikk1ZZcxeQi0n1WpS7AGL3Q8nehM_53hRPKPGZEuGTQp2m1bRTrC39G_87fI78/s320/DSCN1548.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343342819756456210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RdHpyLts612Cw1uxD07tsnXaOfTlVtQ9GHR92FZlT4XHZ7KIpEQ6qSZvKp3NHrrfOqC5NkkhG8NoQqVavQ06K8_S7Nig-rQL7t1ujF8P_avCq6jNyz3A4uQlA1YJscKZzS2PzHXrtdY/s320/DSCN1547.JPG" border="0" /><br />The highlight of the day? Why that would be when I backed the van into the truck! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Oopsie</span>. And all because I was throwing a fit (which was David's fault). It was muddy, cold, windy, & rainy, and we drove an hour and a half to a lake where we couldn't even fish (David's fault). He made us take two vehicles because it's squishy in the truck, & he didn't want to go in the van (David's fault). And he picked a dumb camp site where the vehicles were parked super close to each other (David's fault). Being the mature adult that I am, I told David that he picked a dumb place, I was cold, & I was taking Luke home. Got in the van, and....David's fault. You can clearly see who's fault it was, right? Of course, I'll just let him keep thinking it's my fault. ;) Check out that dent! It actually looks much worse than the pictures show. It's a real <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">dinger</span>. And after all that? I had a really great time with my three boys in the cold & mud.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343342821958452626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1iVMliHKelulY24XPY2ypLIW64-1M9QEZBlViINXgi4t3tx13fsQVT7gHLF5qzpIRkMRCHYF4ink4t22ThMO8DzfCcQjYnIMHTY1mXtTabI8zptpgHlCJaV7jp9plX1teNsLRZhgc6G0/s320/DSCN1554.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343342824679705010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd6cjjJsbUNf-VLHw7wuZyKobDVQ9CPRno9ZREesg6hdlZutzWSIe7nGVn0lVJFyN2AebrMRfFs7p0u53RUVLpQJzKiJcjGrDiDjunWXFe9-n90hM12zJ0Dplg-JU1_sEaxwovhw9CduQ/s320/DSCN1555.JPG" border="0" />I know this is a really long post, but I've had some requests for a <strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Daily Dose of David</span></em></strong>. Apparently I'm not the only one entertained by my ridiculous hubby. So what shall I share tonight? How about his nifty new neck brace?<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343346817105134562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJp0hYIDdNOqKXe33sQ-rS_H8MAVH66vwEq8SLGU_d-3FLEvwnd0zatjbxG9G6EFOwVHrnBijjoTTdjMNy3aL9UTsh1LfuWHTu4j1fL9JHa0WcFp62nlzW1jCCfHe8bjGtwQYwy3wYpQ0/s320/DSCN1562.JPG" border="0" /> <div></div><div>He had a kinked neck for 3 days. He walked around as if he was seriously wounded. He got out of helping with much of anything because he claimed to be in great pain. He used ice packs. He took hot showers. He did stretches. He even went to a spa for a deep tissue massage. And when none of that helped--and when I refused to buy him a neck brace (come on! it's only a kinked neck! we've all had them & lived to tell about it! without neck braces! big baby! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">whaaa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">whaaa</span>!), he used the handy dandy rolled up towel tied around the neck trick. And behold, a miracle. Where he could hardly move before, he was now able to jump off the couch & wrestle me for the remote! Can I get a hallelujah? :)</div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-30203656575543934242009-05-30T12:21:00.000-06:002009-05-30T13:06:55.655-06:00Just Some PicsI've got plenty to blog, but how about some pictures of a couple cuties until I get around to a new post? :)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUvuEPZVNeBR3bTc4H70IVZbNn5eR-1F_7floNt3vBJZ0RJ910993KVyNZm0E6pPDB_Ampf2QleZQ81iFen9wMLk9T6IV31gnBA03poHRGZ57NfuLMMQwF0YrWkOK-l3AumIcM7P5bzk/s1600-h/DSCN1500.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340574637654663682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUvuEPZVNeBR3bTc4H70IVZbNn5eR-1F_7floNt3vBJZ0RJ910993KVyNZm0E6pPDB_Ampf2QleZQ81iFen9wMLk9T6IV31gnBA03poHRGZ57NfuLMMQwF0YrWkOK-l3AumIcM7P5bzk/s320/DSCN1500.JPG" border="0" /></a> I can't believe my little Lukey is 9 months! Time goes by so fast, and babies don't stay babies for long.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9imWZTI0hbEPe_CEz_JQLuuq94yoJrRr28LKGVUR3ikoxGyrxL49nxnphrsqfIaVi9CWTGQTQ4DB4sRQNwU3m-E5htSiBKjOjSuHM4c-WFYN-nzV4eRuWBROUASUK2vfPuIg0U6MbCcM/s1600-h/DSCN1493.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340574627956775426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9imWZTI0hbEPe_CEz_JQLuuq94yoJrRr28LKGVUR3ikoxGyrxL49nxnphrsqfIaVi9CWTGQTQ4DB4sRQNwU3m-E5htSiBKjOjSuHM4c-WFYN-nzV4eRuWBROUASUK2vfPuIg0U6MbCcM/s320/DSCN1493.JPG" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340574626004383346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ19DlXfulmjWJ3bzyllj8XffBXJQLlxKGVAj2kQ4vVdyLXk8b5tcrF5hG2YvIhG5rYPj3U62ck_Ta294XW0pn2XKBqTbn0ujtKm-YMH2vyDEK0GWi8S79J7S6rMEyooBwnug0s80Rp8o/s320/DSCN1497.JPG" border="0" /> Lance & his "kickies." Give him a sheet of stickers & he's happy for a long time.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340574620729625794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO6It7x2U84Ms0O6RKHzgmuTKDSqBAiALg2sx-dHRJ_4RrEwlHEFM6vmmr1DGIxsNtZcg-LIEKLZVaZmvl3q0CAg7oKgqvrtaZDORg3kp39b23BFr5vnEbRYErIKHvREDLaa9Y2CIbXJs/s320/DSCN1491.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340574615401108322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeoCP9iZky1OEErz49vH8y1RKghJ42498nL1L1_dL6C_0auWRxqyDE7KO4R_FtoDwJMMcESR3a92RxXpiOIsJZZl92YoksH2s8raQfX7VmjQNFWrv6Y59y7CSn-6nbmu9JfNR7Oyakw4/s320/DSCN1489.JPG" border="0" /> Best buds! These two love to play with each other. Their favorite game is when Lance runs out of Luke's sight & Luke crawls to find him. Then they both laugh hysterically. And the game continues.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340573371630741666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiao44VEoTEJ_socnURjAU29H_Wz7WBgRxfR5SSCfrTom3LUQoRkneBjwDGrZIWaoqIu7kncnd1npST3wXVVhYWnx9P8dFYnzR9aT4tAc5733fmZDWODtZs2wPuK1JwW38Lx0QVE8jtMDk/s320/DSCN1483.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340573360666836962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQXgLWhpWBUZp-SyqciCciVVgsL-Xd-f_aGUiQfZWPYdWqWyHSPU5dqJlvHWPcdNmUBzRH17OOpHD83uRC6IngYSunKmZvgaVNeQzIAn0OxW0UkkJYSeHM41G1fTfX6vC_wj77nv1v2o/s320/DSCN1485.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340573356264904114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizhEl9uNQDCEvdBDMB1wohV_rSGKsBT28kLs_WVvUFhxN7d5fQfkknE4l01-kAw3vKxiBYfPDptTg5quJU2Yvtonmevh42RcV_sh2wpb6SyQ2SUwxtqwT7eD0F1f4Tz7CNx5ShYyaSlk8/s320/DSCN1480.JPG" border="0" /> One of the few sunny days we've had since moving here. I'm really wishing for some more.</div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340573348407182546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6W2QAMBMqSvy9E8LfBOdm992dj09BOnpgajjt1jN3Q4eOUHkW75YIMXaZOXxjcFTosLSJsAAJE97vSWPzJIJDs7ngVBycWaETt39XP2cAQg-GJLtGYdIIcD5rXdMKqQNkLTlCi1idn54/s320/DSCN1471.JPG" border="0" /> </div><div>Oh, look he's sharing with Daddy. The picture I didn't get was Luke screaming when David took a bite of his licorice.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340573345818848242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWX7ZhehQNBa3GvPsiyJpfE2GLNCHvTCp8KnfGR1n9F_8hmynfaFx61UgEzuyYgmNIruQfHMleMYYxkOku9tA_2KeMieSq-Lco5HuME67DQ84MFWlelA0_d1WrYMkJ3XW8nigGyggg4Yg/s320/DSCN1469.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><br />But as long as he doesn't have to share....happy baby!Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-36998416610262087752009-05-14T18:03:00.006-06:002009-05-14T18:45:27.245-06:00Thursday Thirteen - Edition "S"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZHwtXuroikxo3mlwVsB4obecDtXWAmqGKdUdo-Z_eb3m_XRVhFIr8shlhcA-qhh-AC4pGg5Ectbu8MMHuU6X5_XYKchUvysaD7v03NykkVFnvg8GraMxvZrekOuTt17BqIpE0BZqVUo/s1600-h/letter+s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335843803019939106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZHwtXuroikxo3mlwVsB4obecDtXWAmqGKdUdo-Z_eb3m_XRVhFIr8shlhcA-qhh-AC4pGg5Ectbu8MMHuU6X5_XYKchUvysaD7v03NykkVFnvg8GraMxvZrekOuTt17BqIpE0BZqVUo/s320/letter+s.jpg" border="0" /></a> 1. <strong>Shelley</strong> - You know what's really funny? I didn't think of this one, until I was completely done with my list!<br /><br />2. <strong>Scatter-brained</strong> - This is why I almost didn't think of my last name for this week's Thursday Thirteen.<br /><br />3. <strong>Sweet</strong> - All of my teeth are sweet teeth. You know when people say something is too sweet? I've never experienced that. Really, I haven't.<br /><br />4. <strong>Sleep</strong> - What I LOVE but haven't gotten enough of since having Mr. Lukey (I think he HATES sleep).<br /><br />5. <strong>Strange</strong> - Definition of strange: David Shelley :)<br /><br />6. <strong>Sonic</strong> - Where I like to go to get my two favorite things--coke & chocolate. A chocolate coke to be exact. It's the drink that makes my crazy days better.<br /><br />7. <strong>Silly</strong> - Definition of silly: Lance Shelley. This boy doesn't know what serious is. But he seriously makes me smile.<br /><br />8. <strong>Second</strong> - I'm the second child of six.<br /><br />9. <strong>Smart</strong> - What I am constantly trying to tell my hubby that I am. His world would be a whole lot better if he realized just how smart I am.....and if he just did what I said. He could also refer to last week's Thursday Thirteen (I'm always RIGHT!).<br /><br />10. <strong>Shit</strong> - It happens!<br /><br />11. <strong>Superficial</strong> - I hate superficiality. Yes, it's a word. I know that because I'm so smart. See number 9. :)<br /><br />12. <strong>Snugglebug Bowtique</strong> - I know I've posted this link before, but if you haven't checked it out, you definitely need to. It's my sister's website. She makes the cutest hair bows. I've looked at lots of other sites selling hair bows & headbands, and I really do think hers are the cutest. <a href="http://www.snugglebugbowtique.com/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">snugglebugbowtique.com</span></a><br /><br />13. <strong>Stephanee</strong> - Last but certainly not least is my sister-in-law, Steph. She is so sweet & so fun to be around. She's pretty much awesome!<br /><br />To join the Thursday Thirteen fun, click the button below.<br /><a href="http://izabelandemilyjack.blogspot.com/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335844391945114754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBk3SwdTcLg1NuYHI283bsmAMDxTfLxVNwVhM7KSiNEV2-RfmaYp3DYkGyaCgXUKHAMh1qPqQlxTVusUpSCpEhmSbWLbTSvgq1V6f7ZgoNW0JsD3uivUc_2iKMw3InmKlYfYI527fDcoY/s200/ThursdayThirteen3.jpg" border="0" /></a>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-68565953751283959562009-05-07T02:07:00.006-06:002009-05-07T03:30:59.967-06:00Thursday Thirteen - Edition "R"Okay, so I've missed a bunch of weeks of the Thursday Thirteen, but there's no way I could catch up with so many letters. I'll just continue with today's letter. Here goes!<br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333011287395921586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5SjYSGAemXdYDfaUZVhpr97NcdpmsEXRukHYIlubX33HFeo9iE4rdfsoV2m03fKsS53mdZ_iuBZaMHZz9_9WKuVCc67YfHh2mawPFiEIDEDRNAllKrDGzXIkxr23VEiB4c35BTwyrFk/s320/r2.jpg" />1. <strong>Rachel</strong> - My name. A.K.A. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Rachie</span> (or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Rachie</span> Poo), Rachel Ann, Ratchet, or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Rawhaw</span>. I have no idea how my little sis came up with that last one.<br /><br />2. <strong>Russell</strong> - My Dad & little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">bro's</span> name.<br /><br />3. <strong>Rowdy</strong> - What my 3 boys are. Yes, that includes David. He's the rowdiest.<br /><br />4. <strong>Renting</strong> - I can't wait until we're done moving around & don't have to rent anymore!<br /><br />5. <strong>Raft </strong>- We just bought a small raft for fishing on the tiny lake right behind our apartment. I can't wait for nice weather to try it out.<br /><br />6. <strong>Rex</strong> - My parents' crazy, three-legged dog. I know it sounds sad. But having only 3 legs does not slow him down one bit.<br /><br />7. <strong>Read </strong>- I LOVE to read. It is so easy for me to get lost in a book. I can tune anything out to read, and usually end up staying up most of the night when I start reading. Just wish I had more time to read.<br /><br />8. <strong>Real</strong> - What mine are. But after nursing babies, I wouldn't mind if they were fake one day. ;)<br /><br />9. <strong>Rich</strong> - You probably think I'm going to say what I wish I was. But I don't wish that. Having no debt would be wonderful, but I don't need anything more than what I already have. I'm incredibly happy being wife & mommy. I'm already rich.<br /><br />10. <strong>Right</strong> - What I always am. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hahahaha</span>!!! No, but seriously.....<br /><br />11. <strong>Reload</strong> - My siblings & I used to fight over who got to help Dad reload shotgun shells.<br /><br />12. <strong>Rebel </strong>- What I'm not. Nor have I ever been one. That would be my husband's department. Me, I'm the goody-two-shoes. I don't know how to be bad. :)<br /><br />13. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><strong>Rugrats</strong></span> - I love my little guys more than anything. They are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'll take them just the way they are--even if they are <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">rugrats</span>.<br /><br />If you want to join in the Thursday Thirteen fun, click the button below & head on over to Izzy 'N Emmy to sign up.<br /><a href="http://izabelandemilyjack.blogspot.com/"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332998925935825266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQShFwqk0tW-25djSJiL19lxMx5hGEIXgqseRUvxyT-nhRruR6H8A5a0-S8C1jpol-P2JBHf5DVn_06HAzj2DDQv-g-s4G9y6z4w7uT3TpYpY084Ocb9CIc5cmCk2j-DIKHCOFeS2nkzw/s200/ThursdayThirteen3.jpg" /></a>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-85927589401531540082009-05-06T14:53:00.003-06:002009-05-06T15:51:48.450-06:00Potty Training...Sucks!I'm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">sooooo</span> tired of changing a gazillion diapers every day. We've tried potty training Lance, who will be 2 1/2 in just a couple days. He can hold it for HOURS (no kidding). We'll put him on the potty all day long, sometimes every 5 minutes. And wouldn't you know it...he pees in his underwear the second he's <em>off</em> the potty. This happens over & over & over. I get frustrated & go back to diapers for a couple days because I'm all worn out & tired of the fight. Go ahead & judge me. I know I shouldn't go backwards & go back to diapers, but whatever--what's done is done. I was pretty happy that we've never had a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">poopy</span> underwear accident. Which is why I got brave & just said no more diapers.<br /><br />Which brings me to yesterday. I'm really tired of Lance taking off his own diapers. I always freak out thinking that he could be taking off a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">poopy</span> one & we'd have a big mess. So...I decided to just put up with the accidents & tantrums & just say no more diapers. We were accident free at about 10 am (but still no pee in the potty). I put Lance in the bathtub and ran to get Luke to bathe him as well. I was gone for mere seconds when I hear, "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mommmmy</span>!" And then because I didn't respond quickly enough, "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wayshel</span>!" Yes, he called me by my first name--little stinker! I rapidly return to the bathroom to find him standing in the tub and.....ewwwwww.....a couple floaters......so gross.....yes, poop in the bathtub. And Lance says to me, "Peed on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">da</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">gwound</span>." No son, Mom would actually be okay with pee on the ground. This is definitely not pee on the ground!<br /><br />It took me a while to clean up the mess, re-bathe Lance, and disinfect the tub & every toy in it. While I was cleaning, Lance peed his pants. He brought me new underwear, we got him changed & everything cleaned up, and we both plopped down at the table--Lance for a snack, me for a break. Seconds, and I do mean seconds, later, he said, "Uh oh," and I followed his gaze to the chair where he was now squatting over a puddle. I crossed my fingers & silently pleaded, "Please let it be water, please..." nope, it was pee. I half sighed, half growled and resisted the urge to scream. By now I was praying that Lance would get tired very soon, so that I can put a diaper on him & put him down for a nap. I know, not the best move. Maybe Lance has a strategy. Maybe he knows he can wear me down if he has enough accidents. He had one more accident--on the suede couch--before <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">nap time</span>. And then I had a blissful 2 accident free hours while both boys slept.<br /><br />I'll spare you the afternoon accident details and just jump forward to this morning when I got out of bed because Luke was awake & crying. Let me just say that I had no idea Lance was awake & up & about already. But as I walk down the hall to the boys' room, lo & behold there is a little toddler walking back into his bedroom. With sweat pants on his head and a bare butt. Where did this kid come from? I laughed for about half a second until I realized that his little naked bottom meant he had taken his diaper off. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hmmmm</span>....and what was that I smelled? Oh yes, if you guessed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">poopy</span> diaper you were right. He had taken his <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">poopy</span> diaper off & was in the process of finding some underwear & pants. And he must have been sidetracked by his own hilarity with his pants on his head and all.<br /><br />Okay, now I am definitely POSITIVE that it is time! I have been trying not to make potty training an unpleasant experience for him, but whatever...that is all out the window now. Now all I'm thinking is that this kid better learn to use the potty soon!! And wouldn't you know it he pooped in his pants right away. So being the mean mom that I am, I made him sit on the little potty for about half an hour--him screaming the whole time. I knew he was holding it, and I also knew that his crying might distract him. And it worked!!! He was distracted enough that he began peeing. On me! But I was so darned excited that I didn't even care. I helped him aim, and we were both so pleased with the pee in the potty.<br /><br />There was much clapping & dancing & hugging! And treats! He can have whatever he wants. I know I'm going a bit over board, but again...whatever. I am so thrilled that he peed in the potty. And now he's waking up from his nap, so we get to start all over again. Oh, the joys of potty training.Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-92112119819377798342009-04-09T13:49:00.003-06:002009-04-09T14:11:54.343-06:00Moving<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Sme7sr7IPw6g9fnw_TyXzkrOa2BWHOvzDy0VOSKakidRvweHf6bBBSUA1avd6O8vpJQsC8cdBLAioDoUnsnVm0t3bDuGtG0KuTeRtxDj2Q9hG5cQvB14PfsqPKfmrUnqN8olwxMolIs/s1600-h/pic1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322786913093860690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Sme7sr7IPw6g9fnw_TyXzkrOa2BWHOvzDy0VOSKakidRvweHf6bBBSUA1avd6O8vpJQsC8cdBLAioDoUnsnVm0t3bDuGtG0KuTeRtxDj2Q9hG5cQvB14PfsqPKfmrUnqN8olwxMolIs/s320/pic1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:comic sans ms;font-size:130%;">We're almost done packing, & we'll be moving this weekend. I'm so sick of packing moving that I'm ready to either sell everything or throw it all away! At least this move will be to a fully furnished apartment (since it's a short stay), so there will be no moving in or out--hooray! And moving stuff into a storage unit much easier. Goodbye computer (for just a bit), and hello, Vail...again. Ugh!! Have I ever mentioned how much I do NOT like Vail and how it is the one place neither of us wanted to ever go back to again? Oh, well. I'm officially making a giant effort to find reasons to like it this time. Wish me luck. :)</span>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-60582294893513980542009-04-02T05:38:00.011-06:002009-04-02T06:31:20.016-06:00Thursday Thirteen - Edition "M"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcJ1G2h5MahO1TgJtVsAsXqj6FPi7hE9kGSSyy99kCrrnz_R4ZBT9NFYUasVx9sFY7ZtT6bU9l8-jNSw0gKtbbvbJ9wh9XHPEJT6gls01Bnw5AOpBGVKBrljdUK0zeLxtmnY2LXV8g8Y/s1600-h/Hanging%2520Gingham%2520Letter%2520m.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320068233683017970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcJ1G2h5MahO1TgJtVsAsXqj6FPi7hE9kGSSyy99kCrrnz_R4ZBT9NFYUasVx9sFY7ZtT6bU9l8-jNSw0gKtbbvbJ9wh9XHPEJT6gls01Bnw5AOpBGVKBrljdUK0zeLxtmnY2LXV8g8Y/s320/Hanging%2520Gingham%2520Letter%2520m.jpg" border="0" /></a>1. <strong>Mommy</strong> - I love being Mommy more than anything!<br /><div></div><br /><div>2. <strong>Melissa</strong> - My wonderful & talented sister (who is as awesome as Lynette--from the "L" list). Check out her SUPER cute hair bows at the Snugglebug Bowtique <span style="color:#009900;">(</span><a href="http://www.snugglebugbowtique.com/"><span style="color:#009900;">www.snugglebugbowtique.com</span></a><span style="color:#009900;">)</span>.</div><br /><div>3. <strong>Movies </strong>- We watch tons of movies. When we've seen every good one, we move onto the lame ones. :)</div><br /><div>4. <strong>Move </strong>- We're getting ready to move...again. This will be the 5th move since we've been married (only 3 1/2 years).</div><br /><div>5. <strong>Melinda</strong> - My sister-in-law who Lance referred to as Aunt Dewey (mixed her up with Aunt Julie) all weekend. He even brought her shoes to her & put them on her feet when it was time for us to leave so he could take her home with us.</div><br /><div>6. <strong>Matrix</strong> - Thought I hated these movies until I watched them with David. Love 'em!</div><br /><div>7. <strong>Morning</strong> - I am not a morning person. Morning shouldn't start until 8 am...or 9. If I got up sooner, I would end up with everything done by noon. And then what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?!!! ;)</div><br /><div>8. <strong>Mint</strong> - I'm eating Junior Mints right now. Mmmmmm.</div><br /><div>9. <strong>Melon</strong> - I hate any type of melon. That includes cantaloupe & watermelon. Yuck!</div><br /><div>10. <strong>Milford</strong> - Tiny little town where I grew up, & I still call it home.</div><br /><div>11. <strong>Mummy</strong> - Lance loves to put "mummy" in his piggy bank, & I'm told it doesn't grow on trees.</div><br /><div>12. <strong>Milk</strong> - We drink a LOT of the stuff--about 6 gallons a week (is that a lot? haha).</div><br /><div>13. <strong>Mind</strong> - I'm losing mind...or I've already lost it...don't know which...what is it we were talking about? <div><br /><div>If you want to join in the Thursday Thirteen fun, head over to Izzy 'N Emmy & sign up. Just click on the button below.<a href="http://izabelandemilyjack.blogspot.com/2009/04/thursday-thirteen-edition-m.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320068382666538802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiB1UFvwYHeVvv_QvctfMvZfmcgKSZkVFYJWNddVhT08UgzAUHYhWTdTh2UU5EQU4t0be0r00ARmOm0GSD4X-qbs1M-VvVt2axlWNzp1g70vSNqf6CwBiSZ0q7ZlCMGZT0q3SOmVwCAuw/s200/ThursdayThirteen3.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-36584660662655748212009-03-30T16:20:00.000-06:002009-04-01T00:40:38.686-06:00Gettin' Their Cute On!!Are you ready for pictures of some seriously cute, silly, hungry, and jewelry & hat wearing boys? What's that...it's exactly what you've been looking for? ;)<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Check out my boys sportin' some Smart Mom teething bling. Lance loves them & is constantly telling me, "I neeeeee a" (said very dramatically, with need being very drawn out and with head thrown back for effect). Yes, folks, he needs it. He says that quite frequently. Apparently, he "needs" many, many, many things. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319154677477191410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgLFoW0rJYnPb46ErNYuTf28WFm0QC6pdKv9Euz9cmspmh2cEhLBzZNrAQvue9rMhV1s_xvq3dZoYXtiI0yIkgJNOvIXGwDEvJpTW3Dc3hSWbpLK4TGkd4yDnjzu9DfAcbTEm8-kGT9E4/s400/teething+bling.jpg" border="0" />Luke is our resident Moose. He is now 7 months, eats truck loads of food (or so it seems), and can crawl forward on his belly. It's actually more of a slither, but effective nonetheless. Where Lance was a lazy lump of baby content to loll about, Luke is just the opposite--constantly moving & never in one place for more than a few seconds. That baby gets around!! While he does know how to slither, he finds it far faster to roll at super sonic speeds. Talk about steam roller. Outta the way, here comes Luke! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319158145842345458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikotbM6Fy8RHXBOygnMrIZYweOwU9mMYv2E68Hr_bj7ku8FDzUm3jGoqfH2qLR2IKV6RDPZuXGOLUb-SjkbEB5AsbPZ2JtK8elEBT5X44r8M7t04S_-Behx9MCoHHVop04oTsn08afS-A/s400/luke+eating.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><div><div>Lance has an obsession with hots. Anything that can go on his head is a "hot." And Mom & Dad & Luke all must wear hots, too. And like Mr. Roger's shoes, Lance changes his hats frequently throughout the day. Like the pink cowboy hat? Well, it's not a cowboy hat at all. It's a cowgirl hat, and it's for my little niece Neeley who desperately needs one. Check out her pony riding get-up on my sister Melissa's site, <a href="http://rowdyrobertsons.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">rowdyrobertsons.blogspot.com</span></a>, and you'll see why. Lance had to try it out (and wear it in the store...and around town). Ever stylish is the viking hat (courtesy cousin Jase & Aunt Nett). But my favorite is the empty 12 pack soda container hat. Oh, you hadn't heard of that one? It's a new trend--the latest. :) <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319155976390630338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqh0zwYXL5SrVEy1IIebcoh_2WyQ8EYJY8HERk7KGT6ZKSjr5RptW9TJzEv8CZFgTUuEVkAst3D5S_w61oxSVxtX0T7-fA7PPGbF6lH5CFPVTqjVC-Skhs44sANQ2vGHmankFtgb_jvnk/s400/hats.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Another obsession of my firstborn is mummy. He loves to find "mummy" and carry it in his pocket. He then tries to spend it at any little vending machine he sees. Mommy & Daddy tell him to save it for his dino bank, and he puts it back into his pocket until we can get home. When he later rediscovers the mummy in his pocket, he rushes upstairs to make a deposit. And what is better than cold, hard cash (or coins)? Why, cold, hard coins between your toes, of course. We don't know where he got this, but we always find him with his shoes & socks off and putting coins between his toes. Funny kid! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319160712676641570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 343px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPGvo_lnN4vQakFPwwnWyDN5kGQ_Vo_56yg0AJoQEklHorh054wNPNuRAuu4TS2jED8n8KEj9OQCCGUB-UpBkC39HuEckrbJS22azpKFU9B6wfYQAxpmlsit8n129u4ELZIy6amE72Lk/s400/coin+toes.jpg" border="0" />I finally got my jumperoo out of storage in Utah, and wouldn't you know it? Luke loves it! He began jumping right away. I guess he just wasn't a fan of the doorway Johnny Jump Up. He used to fall asleep in the doorway jumper after he exhausted himself from all that hanging and twisting ;) but now he falls asleep in the jumperoo after actually jumping. Either way...works for me. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319158491399705554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr80kvM204LgWlF08TkMKsBYS-V5LMz_XM243QNCZgWtTw5Wi0r0Dzv2FQeaZLQi-YVleV83nCuCE4n0T0FnvDYTShTAoz6msoISyQnRzralcdZOyKVWtOdAgMmgMMbUOHLnNMczuTCXM/s320/DSCN1422.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7661175455917671992.post-38860482949255683622009-03-26T15:21:00.011-06:002009-03-26T16:19:08.515-06:00Thursday Thirteen - Edition "L"Yesterday I asked David what day of the week it was. He told me it was Tuesday. Of course I believed him, so imagine my surprise when I saw bloggers posting their Thursday Thirteen. Really??? Is it Thursday??? It really was a great surprise for me--it was like skipping a whole day in the week. ;) I threw together my list, and here it is.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317617513648454722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh32EIo0kiJEFcHMFLLOZiCGNIhEZrQV3isyxOUI6VakCH5c1q_0RNYm5hjrS2pOmIbtKiJFtbAYE8QKnxOJ3kst9VIH2Mw4sZXWepnUecgonlD3ofjhKZum_SrxkMKcPEnxlFi9Je3TE/s320/TheLetterL.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">1. <strong>Lance</strong> - My handsome and happy son. </span></p><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">2. <strong>Luke</strong> - My handsome and happy son. :)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">3. <strong>Love</strong> - I love numbers 1 & 2 so much that sometimes I wonder how I can contain all of it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">4. <strong>Lotion</strong> - Babies & toddlers that have been bathed & lotioned smell so completely wonderful.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">5. <strong>Laughter</strong> - It really is the best medicine. So, I guess David is my medicine. ;)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">6. <strong>Lemon Bars</strong> - Just the thought of them makes my mouth water.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">7. <strong>Lie</strong> - I HATE lies. Do not lie to me. It is so absolutely horrible to find out you've been lied to. I won't even twist the truth or omit things just because I think "it doesn't matter." If it honestly doesn't matter, just say it! With me you get truth & nothing but the truth "so help me God."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">8. <strong>Lasagna</strong> - What I'm making for dinner tonight.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">9. <strong>Licorice</strong> - The favorite treat of all 3 of my boys--and it must be Red Vines.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">10. <strong>Limeade</strong> - I love cherry limeades--or just regular old limeades--in the summer.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">11. <strong>Lasik </strong>- I do not need lasik eye surgery because I have perfect vision (although my eyesight isn't as "keen" as my hubby's--Thursday Thirteen "K").</span><br /><span style="font-family:Kristen ITC;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">12. <strong>Lint </strong>- I love to clean the lint trap in my dryer. Okay, I've always loved to do this. I have no idea why. Weird, I know. But I'm sure there are other lovers of lint trap cleaning out there.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:kristen ITC;">13. <strong>Lynette</strong> - One of my sisters. I'll bet she thought I forgot all about her (even though we've talked 3 times on the phone today). She's so much fun--the life of the party, and she's so super smart. She's pretty much awesome. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">If you want to join in the Thursday Thirteen fun, visit Izzy 'n Emmy's page (click the button below) and sign up.</span><a href="http://izabelandemilyjack.blogspot.com/"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317619459807482258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid8gHwVKih5B7J1lIy2SKRkeA_iRc604S_WDAQQv0JHZI9W0c241oZ8wE8hw1RFtGQKZyUW61ux4v9fm4QIhPzm5wWVI9fFcgaR46M06420kNLR06LqsBmQxUWtr-8RDh3y2x8omweI98/s200/ThursdayThirteen3.jpg" border="0" /></a>Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14363989692965843537noreply@blogger.com5