<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:43:04.354-06:00</updated><category term='Just for Fun'/><category term='By Jacob'/><category term='MOm'/><category term='Michelle'/><category term='Contest'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Ouch'/><category term='Jada'/><category term='Dad'/><category term='Dogs'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='Misc'/><category term='Colts'/><category term='What did you say to me?'/><category term='Potty Adventures'/><category term='Zoo'/><category term='Jade'/><category term='Crapola'/><category term='Gross'/><category term='I&apos;m a Star'/><category term='Grandpa'/><category term='Siblings'/><category term='Derby'/><category term='List'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Mike and Meagan'/><category term='Home'/><category term='Sophe'/><category term='Zac'/><category term='Being a Mom'/><category term='Holidays'/><category term='Medical'/><category term='Ruth and Chris'/><category term='Mamaw'/><category term='Props and Pans'/><category term='Sophie. Mom'/><category term='God'/><category term='politics'/><category term='Sophie'/><category term='Go Forth'/><category term='Big Dumb Adventures'/><category term='Little Jacob'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='I like adding random tags'/><category term='Keela'/><category term='Pappaw'/><category term='Bat Boy'/><category term='Learning'/><category term='Meme'/><category term='Bella'/><category term='Cats'/><category term='Wes'/><category term='Pictures'/><category term='Sam'/><category term='Fish Adventures'/><category term='Granna'/><category term='Greatest Singer/Songwriter of All Time'/><category term='Kitties'/><category term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Learning to be Mom and Dad, One Day at a Time</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>498</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3831018154133361699</id><published>2010-09-20T10:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T10:22:39.440-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>This may be awkward later...</title><content type='html'>Keegan is stubborn. Once he makes his mind up about something it is almost impossible to convince him otherwise. For example, when Sophie had her birthday Keegan was convinced that he got older as well. To this day if you ask him how old he is he will reply "three" and there is no telling him that he is still two. He will fight you to the death about it. If you persist in telling him that he is only two he lowers his voice to a raspy growl and says "No I NOT, I THREE." It's just how is he. Stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you that to tell you this. A friend asked Sophie the other day if she had a boyfriend. She said no, but then Keegan piped up "Yes, I am Sophia's boyfriend." And there is no telling him he isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3831018154133361699?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3831018154133361699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3831018154133361699&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3831018154133361699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3831018154133361699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/09/this-may-be-awkward-later.html' title='This may be awkward later...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7451282596413537626</id><published>2010-09-16T08:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T09:32:45.456-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>To Pee or Not to Pee</title><content type='html'>Well, I called it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; was definitely fibbing when he said he was going to start going potty like a big boy. I'm stumped. Sophie was so easy to potty train. She woke up one day, I asked her if she wanted to try to go potty, she said yes, and then she did. I told her we were going to try to do this all the time and she was all about it. With very few accidents she was potty trained in about three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, once again proving that he is an independent kid who was not made to follow in Sophie's footsteps, has gone to the potty once. And I honestly think that was an accident. But I'm unswerving and steadfast in my goal. I'm armed with Diego and Elmo underwear, candy and enough people who have offered him surprises if he goes that he will eventually have a Nerf gun &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;arsenal&lt;/span&gt;. And just to show him I mean business I may start only letting him have chocolate milk if he goes potty. Chocolate milk is pretty much what this kid lives for. He's addicted to it like a hooker on crack. I'm playing hard ball. The diapers have to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7451282596413537626?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7451282596413537626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7451282596413537626&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7451282596413537626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7451282596413537626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/09/to-pee-or-not-to-pee.html' title='To Pee or Not to Pee'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1657052773519087366</id><published>2010-09-09T10:23:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-09T10:58:33.040-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Back At It</title><content type='html'>After a summer long hiatus it's time to return to writing down the event of our lives. It was either this or finish the kids baby books, and this is way less work than that would be. Since catching up would be almost impossible, I'll just throw out a quick list of what is currently going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The kids have been sleeping in a tent in Keegan's room all week. Sophie got the tent for her fourth birthday. Holy crap, my Sophie is four. Let's move on before I think about that too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj-9wOHW9I/AAAAAAAABXw/YTlwNk1wXtw/s1600/100_0123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj-9wOHW9I/AAAAAAAABXw/YTlwNk1wXtw/s320/100_0123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514938080584752082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Sophie, at her tender age of four, has already mastered the guilt trip. I finally broke down and told her that Jacob and I were going on vacation without them in a few weeks and Sophie said, with tears in her eyes, "Mommy, don't you love us?" Yeah. Nice. She got over it once I told her she got to spend the night with Mamaw all week. That kid would do anything to keep from sleeping at home. She doesn't even spare my feelings about the matter. "Mom", she says quite matter of factly, "I do not want to stay with you at home. I want to stay somewhere else. I want to go to _______ house and stay." EVERY NIGHT we have this conversation. I don't think being independent will ever be a problem for little miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj--_yhOyI/AAAAAAAABX4/hgiHqNdO-ME/s1600/100_0119.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj--_yhOyI/AAAAAAAABX4/hgiHqNdO-ME/s320/100_0119.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514938101943843618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am slowly.... ever so slowly.... plodding along to my weight loss goal. Actually, I already hit the one I set at New Years. (How often do you see that? An accomplished resolution.) So I set a new one, and I've lost 27 out of 30. In fact, I just gave away a ton of clothes. That feels good. Now I don't have many clothes though. That's not so good. But at least I look better while I am wearing the same clothes over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Keegan told me this morning that he was going to start going potty in the big boy potty. I am skeptical to say the least. The idea of life without diapers seems like too much to dream for. Besides, he also told me that his motorcycle could fly so that shows how much you can trust what he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj-9asv6EI/AAAAAAAABXo/eUtgFpb4DsU/s1600/100_0121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj-9asv6EI/AAAAAAAABXo/eUtgFpb4DsU/s320/100_0121.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514938074807658562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;5. Life is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1657052773519087366?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1657052773519087366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1657052773519087366&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1657052773519087366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1657052773519087366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/09/back-at-it.html' title='Back At It'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIj-9wOHW9I/AAAAAAAABXw/YTlwNk1wXtw/s72-c/100_0123.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2979274839002747529</id><published>2010-06-17T10:23:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T11:17:40.458-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Pictures</title><content type='html'>I've been getting griped at for not blogging, and it's true it's been a while. I still don't feel like it, but I'll post some pictures I've been meaning to get to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids and I went to Momma Sherie and Pops house the other day. Sherie made the kids a little slip and slide to play on. She's cool like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIFbilOwI/AAAAAAAABXY/pSlt15eCv-U/s1600/100_0103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIFbilOwI/AAAAAAAABXY/pSlt15eCv-U/s320/100_0103.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483774754406349570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIFJqJNcI/AAAAAAAABXQ/w2QvFr3i0w4/s1600/100_0102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIFJqJNcI/AAAAAAAABXQ/w2QvFr3i0w4/s320/100_0102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483774749606229442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIEou4PoI/AAAAAAAABXI/lEMkMWgvd7U/s1600/100_0101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIEou4PoI/AAAAAAAABXI/lEMkMWgvd7U/s320/100_0101.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483774740767719042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIEK2kxlI/AAAAAAAABXA/IG0GZ5AW9PA/s1600/100_0100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIEK2kxlI/AAAAAAAABXA/IG0GZ5AW9PA/s320/100_0100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483774732746933842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I get one pedicure a year. It's my Mother's Day present. This year Sophie went with me and got her first real pedicure. She loved it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIDOEGKtI/AAAAAAAABW4/YRU0izGdEXw/s1600/100_0091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIDOEGKtI/AAAAAAAABW4/YRU0izGdEXw/s320/100_0091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483774716429085394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG4p5-AKI/AAAAAAAABWw/n4vLVJDvgoU/s1600/100_0097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG4p5-AKI/AAAAAAAABWw/n4vLVJDvgoU/s320/100_0097.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483773435412611234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG3pn8PLI/AAAAAAAABWo/McwlljRLdfo/s1600/100_0095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG3pn8PLI/AAAAAAAABWo/McwlljRLdfo/s320/100_0095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483773418157128882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG3XHGb-I/AAAAAAAABWg/gD03Tz0MpVc/s1600/100_0089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG3XHGb-I/AAAAAAAABWg/gD03Tz0MpVc/s320/100_0089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483773413187547106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG20p09XI/AAAAAAAABWY/LIDARguaAmY/s1600/100_0088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpG20p09XI/AAAAAAAABWY/LIDARguaAmY/s320/100_0088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483773403937961330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was also her first year for Vacation Bible School. She went to my momma's church to go. She really loved it, came home talking about her lessons and singing songs. We went to her program on Sunday and watched as she did EVERY motion and sang louder than anyone. We were so proud of her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpFvPR8r4I/AAAAAAAABWQ/Yqc4ioeYQmw/s1600/Sophievbs3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpFvPR8r4I/AAAAAAAABWQ/Yqc4ioeYQmw/s320/Sophievbs3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483772174134980482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpFuqDofrI/AAAAAAAABWI/xwzn1cPZ1XE/s1600/Sophievbs2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpFuqDofrI/AAAAAAAABWI/xwzn1cPZ1XE/s320/Sophievbs2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483772164142825138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpFuWyk5dI/AAAAAAAABWA/zK_oCQbHVuQ/s1600/Sophievbs1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpFuWyk5dI/AAAAAAAABWA/zK_oCQbHVuQ/s320/Sophievbs1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483772158971012562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2979274839002747529?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2979274839002747529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2979274839002747529&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2979274839002747529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2979274839002747529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/06/pictures.html' title='Pictures'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TBpIFbilOwI/AAAAAAAABXY/pSlt15eCv-U/s72-c/100_0103.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1424844600031345321</id><published>2010-04-30T08:47:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T09:07:35.531-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>An Upside</title><content type='html'>The upside of Jacob working four on and two off is that he gets more one on one time with the kids. While I am at work he gets to stay home and play with them. They go everywhere together, and he often has great stories to tell me about &lt;span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; kids when I get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie  asked Jacob if the guys that drive the airplanes are very small because the airplanes are so tiny. Jacob about snorted his ice cream up his nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keegan and Sophie both got new tackle boxes, filled with an assortment of brightly colored worms that they will no doubt lose in about a week. In the meantime they are so stinking excited about having their very own tackle box and we get asked to go fishing about every four minutes. On the way home from picking them up with Jacob Keegan was struggling to get his open. After trying and grunting and pulling, he finally resorted to singing the Open Up song from Little Einstein. "Open up, I want to get in, open, open, open, open, open open upppppppp." It didn't work, but if Jacob had ice cream with him he would have snorted it up his nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids went to spend the day with Aunt Ruth the other day. While we were getting ready to leave Sophie eyeballed a magnet on the refrigerate that was silver and said "Princess" in big pink letters. Ruth kindly gave it to Sophie who was. of course, thrilled. On the way home the kids were very quiet. Keegan was asleep, and we thought Sophie was as well until she piped up with the following question: "Mom, Dad.... will you buy me a frigerater?" It turns out she didn't want to share her magnet, thus requiring her own refrigerater for her to put her magnet on. We assured her that she could put it on ours, and she was okay with that as long as we promised that it would only hold her own stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1424844600031345321?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1424844600031345321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1424844600031345321&amp;isPopup=true' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1424844600031345321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1424844600031345321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/04/upside.html' title='An Upside'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5791458394039695806</id><published>2010-04-10T21:42:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T22:10:07.502-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fish Adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Fishing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8V3YIepI/AAAAAAAABV4/J3nCItoIFLk/s1600/keegandock.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8V3YIepI/AAAAAAAABV4/J3nCItoIFLk/s320/keegandock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710569689840274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In no particular order, because I am tired and ready to go to bed, here are the pictures from today's fishing adventure. Keegan was in a weird mood and suddenly became a big ham for the camera and I took advantage of that as much as I could. We had a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some repeats on here but for some reason it won't let me remove them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8VVNuGDI/AAAAAAAABVw/dgaA_44LFiA/s1600/keegan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8VVNuGDI/AAAAAAAABVw/dgaA_44LFiA/s320/keegan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710560519362610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8U96XTVI/AAAAAAAABVo/LiIg2p0R6zw/s1600/100_0078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8U96XTVI/AAAAAAAABVo/LiIg2p0R6zw/s320/100_0078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710554264161618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E74RwbDSI/AAAAAAAABVg/Bvvc77BPF0k/s1600/100_0077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E74RwbDSI/AAAAAAAABVg/Bvvc77BPF0k/s320/100_0077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710061374967074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E74H9KXFI/AAAAAAAABVY/B0AWT8YcToo/s1600/100_0076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E74H9KXFI/AAAAAAAABVY/B0AWT8YcToo/s320/100_0076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710058744044626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E73eUXpFI/AAAAAAAABVQ/wgi3Lbzicfs/s1600/100_0074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E73eUXpFI/AAAAAAAABVQ/wgi3Lbzicfs/s320/100_0074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710047567094866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E73Dm4SoI/AAAAAAAABVI/qqNSofEiuPQ/s1600/100_0072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E73Dm4SoI/AAAAAAAABVI/qqNSofEiuPQ/s320/100_0072.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710040396974722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E72gcRrbI/AAAAAAAABVA/RNf7eSP0-d8/s1600/100_0073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E72gcRrbI/AAAAAAAABVA/RNf7eSP0-d8/s320/100_0073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458710030957260210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6wVR0p9I/AAAAAAAABU4/hQw46mj55Xo/s1600/100_0071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6wVR0p9I/AAAAAAAABU4/hQw46mj55Xo/s320/100_0071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458708825369782226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6wIAze7I/AAAAAAAABUw/OJckq4DxE9g/s1600/100_0069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6wIAze7I/AAAAAAAABUw/OJckq4DxE9g/s320/100_0069.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458708821808741298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Rowdy, our fishing buddy. He belongs to the good friends who generously let us use their lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6vvSgriI/AAAAAAAABUo/8DXiHXETKgE/s1600/100_0068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6vvSgriI/AAAAAAAABUo/8DXiHXETKgE/s320/100_0068.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458708815172120098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6vHHw-7I/AAAAAAAABUg/bcuS32si4kg/s1600/100_0067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6vHHw-7I/AAAAAAAABUg/bcuS32si4kg/s320/100_0067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458708804389632946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6u0mERPI/AAAAAAAABUY/IEggDsB5p8g/s1600/100_0066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E6u0mERPI/AAAAAAAABUY/IEggDsB5p8g/s320/100_0066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458708799416452338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5j92IUYI/AAAAAAAABUQ/wfdBhP8eWoo/s1600/100_0064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5j92IUYI/AAAAAAAABUQ/wfdBhP8eWoo/s320/100_0064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458707513409556866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5jaDYQPI/AAAAAAAABUI/tN5yLJPN9aU/s1600/100_0063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5jaDYQPI/AAAAAAAABUI/tN5yLJPN9aU/s320/100_0063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458707503801450738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5jKo5H5I/AAAAAAAABUA/j2pdd8C5iMQ/s1600/100_0062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5jKo5H5I/AAAAAAAABUA/j2pdd8C5iMQ/s320/100_0062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458707499663826834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5ihYC0xI/AAAAAAAABT4/oGyjxf0Tdfo/s1600/100_0060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5ihYC0xI/AAAAAAAABT4/oGyjxf0Tdfo/s320/100_0060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458707488587305746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5iHVPvwI/AAAAAAAABTw/iOOc5EXIex0/s1600/100_0059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E5iHVPvwI/AAAAAAAABTw/iOOc5EXIex0/s320/100_0059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458707481596247810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4MTeolxI/AAAAAAAABTo/V9Zt1ZcTWTk/s1600/100_0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4MTeolxI/AAAAAAAABTo/V9Zt1ZcTWTk/s320/100_0051.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458706007388100370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4MJIl2MI/AAAAAAAABTg/5ep4E73NTTI/s1600/100_0057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4MJIl2MI/AAAAAAAABTg/5ep4E73NTTI/s320/100_0057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458706004611291330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4Lkx_zEI/AAAAAAAABTY/dlkRm3GtM6Y/s1600/100_0055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4Lkx_zEI/AAAAAAAABTY/dlkRm3GtM6Y/s320/100_0055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458705994852846658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4LPZOusI/AAAAAAAABTQ/o8we3dkhiWw/s1600/100_0054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4LPZOusI/AAAAAAAABTQ/o8we3dkhiWw/s320/100_0054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458705989111823042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4K8N2SUI/AAAAAAAABTI/e3jwBkdKTYc/s1600/100_0053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E4K8N2SUI/AAAAAAAABTI/e3jwBkdKTYc/s320/100_0053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458705983963810114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5791458394039695806?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5791458394039695806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5791458394039695806&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5791458394039695806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5791458394039695806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/04/fishing.html' title='Fishing'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S8E8V3YIepI/AAAAAAAABV4/J3nCItoIFLk/s72-c/keegandock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1181810142566654348</id><published>2010-04-01T22:29:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T11:09:02.282-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>Holy Week Ramblings</title><content type='html'>Holy Week makes me cry. Those of you that know me well know I cry often anyway, but Holy Week really does me in. I think it's because it is the only week of the year that I am truly confronted with the humanity of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I pray to or think about Jesus it is never as a man, but as God Incarnate, all powerful and mighty, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, and so on and so forth. The problem with Holy Week is that while all that is still definitely present, the less thought of MAN part of Christ emerges. The man that had friends. The man that laughed and goofed off with his friends. The man that loved compassionately and without condition. The man that could have defied death forever who instead chose to die the most horrible, painful, humiliating death imaginable. And the part that really gets me is that he endured all of that suffering on the off chance that people would believe in him and be saved. People that mocked him and scorned him, and even people that he had never met or that had even come to be, he died for us to have a chance, just the chance to choose God over this world. Those are odds that I wouldn't take, but he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those odds remind me of everything I have that I wouldn't want to give up, and of all the things that I am provided in this life that Christ never had. I have a beautiful family. Christ didn't. (Unless you are a French monarch, then you can feel free to argue this point. And unless you are a history buff or a conspiracy theorist this aside is probably lost on you anyway.) I have a community that I belong to, I can walk the streets without being mocked, unless my hair is particularly tragic that day. I have never been spit on. I have never been truly betrayed. I have a permanent home. I have friends that understand me and can sympathize with me. Jesus gave the chance to have all that up to try and reach a world that rejected him, and still does to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if that's not enough to dwell on this week, the worlds rejection of Christ reminds me that even though I claim Christ as my own, as do many others, that doesn't keep us from screwing up in huge ways. There are times when it is hard to distinguish Christians from the rest of the world. &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;We fail. Every day. Colossally&lt;/span&gt;. As a whole we run the gambit of sin. We murder, cheat, lie, steal, have sexual sin, drink too much, maintain addictions, manipulate and slander, and even worse, sometimes we do it &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;in the name of Christ&lt;/span&gt;. Like he has anything to do with our own selfish sins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, just when I start to get really depressed, the circle connects and I am reminded that because of our sin, Christ died on that cross for us, for people that mocked him and scorned him, and even people that he had never met or that had even come to be. He died for us to have a chance, just the chance to choose God over this world. Those are odds that I wouldn't take, but I am glad that he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,0,0)"&gt;But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. Isaiah 53:5 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+27&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+26&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;Matthew 26&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+27&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;Matthew 27&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+28&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew 28&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1181810142566654348?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1181810142566654348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1181810142566654348&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1181810142566654348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1181810142566654348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/04/holy-week-ramblings.html' title='Holy Week Ramblings'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7054568860590357867</id><published>2010-03-31T22:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T22:17:36.092-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandpa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Just a few pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPzqZ3zOI/AAAAAAAABSg/0jk308SMeRE/s1600/100_0030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPzqZ3zOI/AAAAAAAABSg/0jk308SMeRE/s320/100_0030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455002428883061986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sophie at her friend Sorsha's party. I could never get them to hold still long enough for a picture together. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPzNN9-kI/AAAAAAAABSY/Qorqc6mKvAM/s1600/100_0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPzNN9-kI/AAAAAAAABSY/Qorqc6mKvAM/s320/100_0024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455002421048506946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Lindsey, the girl Sophie wants to marry one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPyhPz8qI/AAAAAAAABSQ/MAOHHBMYD8M/s1600/100_0022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPyhPz8qI/AAAAAAAABSQ/MAOHHBMYD8M/s320/100_0022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455002409245078178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids and my dad. He is crazy about them, and they are crazy about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7054568860590357867?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7054568860590357867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7054568860590357867&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7054568860590357867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7054568860590357867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/03/just-few-pictures.html' title='Just a few pictures'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S7QPzqZ3zOI/AAAAAAAABSg/0jk308SMeRE/s72-c/100_0030.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-854909418317807943</id><published>2010-03-31T21:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T21:27:33.550-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Sophie's Prayer Tonight</title><content type='html'>Sophie has been listening to the Easter story that we have been telling. It's gotten a little garbled in her little three year old mind. I know this because her prayer tonight went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dear God, please don't let God die and have Judas give him bad spankings with that whit. Thank you for my family. In Jesus name I pray, amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may have to go back over a few things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-854909418317807943?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/854909418317807943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=854909418317807943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/854909418317807943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/854909418317807943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/03/sophies-prayer-tonight.html' title='Sophie&apos;s Prayer Tonight'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-976755657034335843</id><published>2010-03-31T13:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T14:23:56.070-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being a Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>The Going Ons</title><content type='html'>I'm having some troubles getting my camera to load pictures. I have some to put up but it's being ornery so I'll get them up when I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather here has been beautiful. The kids are playing outside every day and we have been to the park many times. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is the king of the tornado slide. He runs himself ragged going up the stairs then sliding down and sprinting from the end of the slide back to the stairs again. Sophie busies herself by befriending every toddler at the park whether they want to be her friend or not. She's an insistent little thing, I'm not sure where she gets that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been doing &lt;a href="http://www.christianbook.com/resurrection-eggs/9781572297227/pd/297220"&gt;Resurrection Eggs &lt;/a&gt;with the kids as Easter approaches. I'm omitting some of them since they are still so small and most of it seems to be lost on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, but Sophie is picking up quite a bit of it. She brought me some play coins the other day and when I asked her what we had just learned about 30 pieces of silver she told me about Judas. It was tentative and vague, but she's getting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dyed eggs the other day leaving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; looking more than a bit  colorful. His idea of getting the eggs out was to plunge his entire fist into the cup of dye. We had a lot of fun, both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; and my nephew Tobin toppled over their dye cups leaving some new floor coloring on my mother in laws kitchen floor. Luckily she and I are of the same mind, that it's just stuff, and she didn't even bat an eye. It's nice to have that sort of folk as family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't bought Easter clothes for the kids. Jacob doesn't see the need for it and when my only reason to buy them was so that we could take pictures of them it did seem a bit silly. A new pair of jeans would get more use, and to be truthful a new pair of sweatpants would really make the most sense. Is our society ready for Easter Sweatpants? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; continues to tease us with his potty training efforts. He wants to go all the time. He will sit and strain and turn red in the face and nothing will happen. Until he gets his diaper back on. Then he poops. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we are building a fence around our backyard. I am so excited to have a place where the kids can run around while I am working in the garden. It's nerve wracking to have them with me as it is since the road we live on is busy enough to be a major concern. I'm always afraid that if I take my eyes off of them for one second that I will regret it forever, which makes gardening a lot less enjoyable I'm sure you can imagine. Once it's done Jacob and I are building a raised bed for my garden this year (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt;) and putting in a cheapo swing set for the kids. I am looking forward to a happy summer outside with the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Jacob has spent this week preparing for the fence to go in by removing my old garden. That doesn't seem so difficult until you realize that the old garden is lined in a double row of mortared brick that is buried two feet underground and two feet above ground. I think it has a brick bottom as well. I have no idea what the people that built this were thinking, or what it was originally for. We always thought it was just one line of bricks above ground, imagine our dismay when the relatively easy job of pulling up bricks turned into a substantial excavation job. "Conveniently" I pinched a nerve in my back this week. While he was a busy beaver with a sledgehammer in the yard I have been slouching around the house with an icepack and some pain killers. However, I think I would rather be out there with the hammer because this whole nerve thing is not a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are growing like weeds. They both are getting so tall and have stayed so skinny that finding clothes that fit them is a challenge. Watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; run around lately has made me realize that truly I don't have a baby anymore, I have a little boy. I'm not sure how I feel about that and quite frankly I have avoiding thinking much about it because it makes me cry. I guess that tells me a bit of what I think about him getting bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, they are a lot of fun right now (when they are not fighting). They are both learning so much so fast, and hearing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; mimic Sophie is a hoot. They have conversations about things, show each other things that they have found and make each other laugh. I'm blessed that I get to be part of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; little worlds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-976755657034335843?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/976755657034335843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=976755657034335843&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/976755657034335843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/976755657034335843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/03/going-ons.html' title='The Going Ons'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3218105948235682037</id><published>2010-03-12T08:08:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T08:52:33.785-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Odds and Ends</title><content type='html'>So my mom informed me yesterday that it has been five weeks since I blogged, not that she was counting or anything. Let's catch up, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring is fast approaching here, the first flowers are starting to bloom and it's been warm enough for us to play outside, go for walks and just enjoy the thaw.  I despise winter with an unholy passion so it's been a good time for me. The kids have been playing outside and the unexpected side effect has been a much earlier bedtime. I had forgotten how much it tuckers them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The officer that Jacob was filling in for at the schools returned from Iraq safely. (Thank you, Jesus.) Once he got back into the swing of things he reclaimed the schools and Jacob started third shift again. He is happy as can be, third shift truly does fit his personality. While Jacob enjoyed working with the kids at the school, he hated the hours and how slow it could be so he is happier at work now than he has been in a while. We are slowly readjusting to life with dad asleep all day, though it's hard for the kids not to yell and thump around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie is on a marriage kick. For a long time she wanted to marry her friend Lindsay. In fact they are so smitten with each other that they can't sit next to each other in gymnastics anymore because all they do is giggle, talk and hug and kiss each other. Jacob and I continue to explain that girls marry boys but she will have none of that. In fact when I was explaining that God made girls to marry boys she stopped me and said, "I will ask God. God, can I marry a girl?" Then she dropped her voice down as low as she could and said "Yes." She lit up like the sun, looked at me and said "God said YES! I can marry a girl!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through sheer tenacity Jacob and I have convinced her that she needs to marry a boy. Her suggestions were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; and Daddy. I told her that she couldn't marry them either, that God had already given me to Daddy and that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; had a wife somewhere out there, too. Her little face just fell, tears welled up in her eyes and she wailed "There is NO ONE for me to marry!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is talking in complete &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sentences&lt;/span&gt; which makes him seem less and less like my baby boy.  Momma calls Sophie Pete and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; Re-Pete because whatever she says he will repeat instantly. It's like living with a constant echo. He is by far more stubborn that Sophie was. I didn't know that was possible, but apparently it is. He is getting very interested in going potty though he still has never gone. Jacob and I are very excited at the prospect of a diaper free home! Momma bought him some Elmo big boy underwear for Christmas and now that warmer weather is here he will be running around the house in that soon in an effort to get him to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; bathroom. If you knock and a scrawny little boy in Elmo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;underoos&lt;/span&gt; answers the door, ask him if he needs to go potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring break is coming up and I am going to try to get out and clean up the yard a bit. The kids are big enough to take out with me now and stay close so hopefully this will be easier this year than last. Sophie and I already planted some flowers in a pot to keep in a window. They bloomed last week and she was so proud. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is just interested in the dirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to blog again soon, I am going to stop now and pick this up again later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3218105948235682037?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3218105948235682037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3218105948235682037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3218105948235682037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3218105948235682037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/03/odds-and-ends.html' title='Odds and Ends'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6593586118143124163</id><published>2010-01-28T07:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T07:36:51.700-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>No Kicking Allowed</title><content type='html'>At my Momma's house we have been playing a lot of &lt;a href="http://lottakids1961.blogspot.com/2010/01/things-i-really-like-or-think-i-will.html"&gt;this game &lt;/a&gt;she got for Christmas. It is for ages 8 and up so naturally Sophie is learning to play. She does pretty well except that sometimes the games go on for over an hour and she gets antsy and wants to quit. I can usually talk her into staying and finishing, but the other day she was so antsy that I finally told her that if she didn't settle down I was going to kick her out of the game. She looked right at me and said "You would kick me? That is so rude." Then she calmly finished her turn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6593586118143124163?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6593586118143124163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6593586118143124163&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6593586118143124163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6593586118143124163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/no-kicking-allowed.html' title='No Kicking Allowed'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4387839931411127965</id><published>2010-01-26T08:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T08:54:05.607-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Keegan Laid there Like a Slug...</title><content type='html'>When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; gets tired he tends to flop on his face and lay in the floor whimpering like a kicked dog. This is most distressing to Sophie. A few days ago as bedtime was approaching, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; was doing just that... laying on the floor bemoaning his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;existence&lt;/span&gt;. Sophie was trying to get him up, pleading with him to come play. It went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, do you want to come play with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mphhhhfff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, do you want to watch a movie with me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;MMMMMMFFFFFFFFFF&lt;/span&gt; (swats in her general direction with one stubby arm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: (getting more determined now) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, do you want to play kitchen with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;NNNOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;MMMppppfffff&lt;/span&gt; (another, more adamant swipe of the arm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: Do you want to race?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;: ...... Yep. (arises from the floor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;majestically&lt;/span&gt; and stumps off in his weird little run/shuffle as fast as he can)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie: (looking very smug, runs after him)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4387839931411127965?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4387839931411127965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4387839931411127965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4387839931411127965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4387839931411127965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/keegan-laid-there-like-slug.html' title='Keegan Laid there Like a Slug...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5140913491895341026</id><published>2010-01-21T09:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T09:54:10.835-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>I had a Christmas Flashback</title><content type='html'>Today I swear I had visions of The Christmas Story running though my heads as I watched the kids pretend to be Atticus, my mom's dog, as they were eating their breakfast. As you can imagine, this was with their hands in their laps, utensils forgotten and their faces planted squarely in their food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5140913491895341026?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5140913491895341026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5140913491895341026&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5140913491895341026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5140913491895341026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-had-christmas-flashback.html' title='I had a Christmas Flashback'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-357365742365836926</id><published>2010-01-20T10:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T11:01:05.989-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Prayers with the kids</title><content type='html'>Bedtime prayers with the kids are usually very sweet and always very interesting. Keegan only wants Daddy to pray with him, and he very diligently repeats in his Keegan babble every single word that Jacob says. Jacob asks him every night what he wants to pray about and the answer is always his bear and "Desus".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie only wants to pray with Mommy. I make her say her own prayer before we pray together, and the resulting talk with God is usually pretty awesome. The other day she prayed that God would give Jesus a very special hug for her. She has prayed about monsters and things that scare her. Her sweet little voice has lifted up her friends in prayer, prayed for healing for others and herself and in the next breath thank God for her butterfly sticker. But last night I was more than a little confused when she thanked Jesus for Samson and Buster and told him she wanted to be brave like them. After she got done I asked Sophie who exactly Buster was, and she said "you know, that little girl who saved the Jews." We have been reading about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Esther&lt;/span&gt;, the little girl who saved the Jews. At least she remembered that SOMEONE saved the Jews, be it Buster or Esther.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-357365742365836926?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/357365742365836926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=357365742365836926&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/357365742365836926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/357365742365836926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/prayers-with-kids.html' title='Prayers with the kids'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2920603777835327532</id><published>2010-01-16T08:52:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T16:01:21.133-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX2j7bROI/AAAAAAAABRY/C9OSPLkKk9g/s1600-h/100_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX2j7bROI/AAAAAAAABRY/C9OSPLkKk9g/s320/100_0004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427356358315558114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX3I3JLGI/AAAAAAAABRo/T0N4KB6VaW4/s1600-h/100_0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX3I3JLGI/AAAAAAAABRo/T0N4KB6VaW4/s320/100_0009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427356368229706850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX2_VQgUI/AAAAAAAABRg/q1pxtWu2nhg/s1600-h/100_0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX2_VQgUI/AAAAAAAABRg/q1pxtWu2nhg/s320/100_0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427356365671661890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And for fun just a few of the kids jumping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HWjx-j2-I/AAAAAAAABRQ/HuZ33vgnRdM/s1600-h/jump2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HWjx-j2-I/AAAAAAAABRQ/HuZ33vgnRdM/s320/jump2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427354936157658082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HWjuKrkpI/AAAAAAAABRI/bHp-DpBt9lg/s1600-h/jump3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HWjuKrkpI/AAAAAAAABRI/bHp-DpBt9lg/s320/jump3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427354935134753426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2920603777835327532?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2920603777835327532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2920603777835327532&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2920603777835327532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2920603777835327532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/S1HX2j7bROI/AAAAAAAABRY/C9OSPLkKk9g/s72-c/100_0004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-676739740015588122</id><published>2010-01-16T08:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T08:52:01.975-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Keegan's first "real" sentance</title><content type='html'>The other day on the way home from swimming with the kids &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; piped up from the back seat, "Mommy, I spend night at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mamawland&lt;/span&gt;, please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you can believe it, he didn't. Mom's are tough like that sometimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-676739740015588122?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/676739740015588122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=676739740015588122&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/676739740015588122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/676739740015588122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/keegans-first-real.html' title='Keegan&apos;s first &quot;real&quot; sentance'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-82335345654865321</id><published>2010-01-14T11:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T12:09:41.234-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>The Crap in the Bed and other Odds and Ends</title><content type='html'>Sophie spent the night with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mamaw&lt;/span&gt; the other day and slept in Carly's room. As I was leaning over to tuck her in she said "Wait, we need to get the crap out of the bed..." I was getting ready to sputter out that there wasn't any crap in the bed when she finished "because last night it bit my hand off." So in Sophie-land crap = crab. Good to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has thing thing about dreaming for a while now that there are things in the bed. A few weeks ago she spent the night with our friend Sherie and she woke up because "THERE IS AN ANIMAL IN THE BED!" Of course at their house it was true, their dog Cooper was in the bed. But that wasn't it... she was worried about the worms that were under the blankets. So they got up and went to lay down on the couch and Sophie wouldn't quite settle down. Finally Sherie told Sophie to go to sleep and Sophie said "Did you hear that? They are TALKING to me!!" She apparently has some vivid imagination happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has been busy worrying Jacob running around in dress up clothes with Sophie. Head bands, purses, barrettes, if it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; he's got it. But he makes up for it by stomping around in said dress pretending to be a dinosaur. And leaping... have mercy the boy loves to jump. A few days ago he climbed up on the arm of the chair, which is just a bit shorter than he is, steadied himself just long enough to get his balance and then jumped as high as he could. I laughed and laughed and my mom about had a heart attack. The kid is completely fearless when it comes to that type of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, he is not that thrilled with the spray park at the YMCA. Jacob and I got a family membership at the beginning of the year so that we could lap swim, which is about the only thing I can manage because my knee is still injured. Afterwards we go get the kids from the child watch center and take them swimming. Sophie is all about it, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is... not so much. He is much more reserved in the water than Sophie is. Where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; will jump off of anything, Sophie will do anything in the water. She's a lifeguard's nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These kids just make me laugh. Sophie told me today that when she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; older she is going to "get a job, go to the YMCA and exercise and drink grown up drinks." And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is convinced that every time we sit down to eat it's time to "go poop in potty." He has NEVER pooped in the potty in his entire life. He's never done anything in the potty. But Sophie has this thing where she wants to see the bathroom in every building we go into. This means every time we go to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; she immediately needs to go potty, so now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; does too, but he waits until the food gets there to say it. After a few weeks of this, with me taking him to the potty and him not going, now I just tell him to go in his diaper, because I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;am&lt;/span&gt; eating my food while it's hot. He seems to be okay with this, and so am I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a new digital camera with my Christmas money, so I have a few pictures to post of the kids playing in the snow. I'll do that in the next few days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-82335345654865321?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/82335345654865321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=82335345654865321&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/82335345654865321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/82335345654865321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2010/01/crap-in-bed-and-other-odds-and-ends.html' title='The Crap in the Bed and other Odds and Ends'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5742665352430013677</id><published>2009-12-31T14:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T14:54:10.970-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>A few stories that made me laugh.</title><content type='html'>Sophie and Keegan are going to spend the night at Granna's house tonight (Jacob's mom). When I told Sophie she said "Yay! I love pee stink." It took me a minute, but realized that last time we went to her house she made asparagus, hence the pee stink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when I took the Christmas tree down there was a big bare spot where it was. We rearranged our furniture and really don't have anything to put back there yet, so there is still a big bare spot. I made the mistake of mentioning the bare spot in front of Sophie, and now she insists that the "bear spot" growls at her and bites her. I can't for the life of me get her to understand that bare means empty as well as large, carnivorous mammal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids were great at Christmas. We had a wonderful time. I'll post more on that later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5742665352430013677?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5742665352430013677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5742665352430013677&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5742665352430013677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5742665352430013677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/12/few-stories-that-made-me-laugh.html' title='A few stories that made me laugh.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3938837418899313347</id><published>2009-12-09T08:08:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T14:45:27.150-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Keegan is Two Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SyAMXHb31qI/AAAAAAAABRA/YNhYJmlKvxo/s1600-h/kmr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 251px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413340343371814562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SyAMXHb31qI/AAAAAAAABRA/YNhYJmlKvxo/s320/kmr.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Sx-4FRCOG3I/AAAAAAAABQ4/pPhufa97K20/s1600-h/kbdayblocks.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413247677734198130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Sx-4FRCOG3I/AAAAAAAABQ4/pPhufa97K20/s320/kbdayblocks.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My little man is a year older today. To celebrate we are going to go to a local spaghetti place (his favorite food) and go see a Christmas light display. I think he will like that. We had his party on Sunday and having an epic Mom-Fail moment I got too busy and didn't take an single picture. Luckily my mom did, so you can check out her pictures &lt;a href="http://lottakids1961.blogspot.com/2009/12/keegans-2nd-birthday-party.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got mixed emotions about his birthday. On one hand I am sad to see my baby getting older, but on the other hand I'm glad he gets to. The lady I work with had her only grand baby die over the summer and yesterday would have been his first birthday. Watching her deal with her loss so close to Keegan's birthday puts things in perspective, but it also makes me even more emotional about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought that Sophie was going to be our strong willed child. I was right and wrong about that. She is for sure strong willed, but not nearly so much as Keegan is. He is stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. He is also much more affectionate as a rule than she is. He doesn't follow anyone's lead, he is a leader. He loves to be read to, his favorite question is "what's that" and he loves to play with anything that makes noise. And trucks. And any form of ball. He is all boy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For example: Our friend J0sh, who is a state trooper, gave the kids a play police set a few months ago. It had the usual gambit of stuff with cuffs, badges, riot shields and a baton. Sophie pulled the baton out and said "What's this for?". Jacob and I looked at each other, eyed the kids knowingly and did the only thing we could think of. "To poke things," we lied. She immediately lost interest and dropped it. Keegan waddled over, picked it up, studied it for about .02 seconds and proceeded to beat the snot out of the bush next to him. No instructions required for him... he's a boy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keegan brings us so much joy. I'm glad we get to celebrate his birthday today. Hug your kids a little tighter today and be thankful you have them there to hold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3938837418899313347?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3938837418899313347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3938837418899313347&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3938837418899313347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3938837418899313347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/12/keegan-is-two-today.html' title='Keegan is Two Today'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SyAMXHb31qI/AAAAAAAABRA/YNhYJmlKvxo/s72-c/kmr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4383056476306772793</id><published>2009-12-07T17:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T17:51:10.703-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Potty Adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>In hindsight, I should have said something...</title><content type='html'>I suppose I should have warned Sophie about the automatic toilet she used. As she potty danced her way into the stall and noted aloud that it didn't have a "flusher", warning bells should have gone off that apparently she had never used one. Either I was just a little dense that day, or maybe just a little harried after my bolt through the store after Sophie's announcement that her "pee pee was about to fall out" because she "can't hold it any more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless the reason for my neglect, I forgot to tell Sophie that the toilet would flush on it's own. Lucky for me, it was a toilet that not only flushes on it's own, but of it's own volition and on it's own timing because as Sophie sat down, the toilet flushed and quite literally scared the piss out of my daughter. She practically FLIES off that seat, pee squirting everywhere, eyes as big as saucers, totally freaked out; leaving me, the mom with twenty-twenty hindsight, to clean up the floor. And her pants. And her underwear. And the toilet. And myself, because I was laughing like an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4383056476306772793?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4383056476306772793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4383056476306772793&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4383056476306772793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4383056476306772793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/12/in-hindsight-i-should-have-said.html' title='In hindsight, I should have said something...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5387054601332320918</id><published>2009-11-30T20:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T20:50:09.802-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Kid Tidbits</title><content type='html'>At Thanksgiving we always go around the table and say what we are thankful for and this year was no exception. With Sophie in my lap we sat there and listened to a few of the older kids say what they were thankful for so that they could go play. Without warning Sophie suddenly piped up and said that she was thankful for her mommy and daddy, and her family, and for pie. She is for sure her father's daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; suddenly cares what he wears, so now the cute sweaters he used to wear so willingly have all but been shunted out of his wardrobe. His pick: sweatpants, t-shirts and a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hoodie&lt;/span&gt;. He is for sure his father's son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every evening when I am praying with Sophie we pray for her one-day husband, that he is having a good life and being raised to love God and such. In the middle of our prayer the other day she stopped me, stating very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;emphatically&lt;/span&gt; that she was NOT going to marry a boy because boys are gross. Rather she is going to marry Lindsey, her new friend from gymnastics. I have yet to shake her from this idea, as evidenced tonight when Lindsay and her family came over to play and when they were leaving (and I swear to you I am not lying) she kissed Lindsey on the lips, said "I like the way your lips feel. I'm gonna marry you." I'm still not sure what to do here. Advice welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is getting more and more BOY everyday. It is almost comical to see the daily one-eighty as he is sweet as can be to Sophie, right up until the point where he body slams her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie is so ready for Christmas that I had to make her a calender to mark down the days. I am just waiting to get up and find all the boxes &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;exed&lt;/span&gt; out in unsteady crayon hand, as if by magic, overnight. She is just sneaky enough to give it a go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has decided he loves the David &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Crowder&lt;/span&gt; Band. He sings "he loves us, he loves us, he loves us, he loves us, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; he loves us". Any attempt to sing along with him is immediately squelched with an intense "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;SHOOSH&lt;/span&gt;, MOMMA". The first time he did it I looked to Jacob and was like, did that just happen? Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good here. The kids are well and we are having much fun together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5387054601332320918?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5387054601332320918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5387054601332320918&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5387054601332320918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5387054601332320918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/kid-tidbits.html' title='Kid Tidbits'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-9109715532737503429</id><published>2009-11-19T12:51:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T13:08:16.806-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>K-Man</title><content type='html'>Keegan did not get to take a nap yesterday. This means that we had to deal with kidzilla last night. It got to the point where Sophie was saying that he needed to "be in trouble, get a spanting and doe to time-out." That's pretty intense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I checked out Keegan's development chart and according to it he should be able to jump soon. That made me laugh since he has gotten so good at jumping that he clears several steps at at time. It makes my heart just about stop, but he just laughs and climbs back up to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is developing an incredible case of separation anxiety. He is okay once I leave, but the leaving process is horrible. Sophie never went through this so I'm a bit unsure how to deal with it. It's so bad that he won't stay in the nursery at church anymore and even throws a fit every so often leaving him with Momma. Any advice here would be welcome!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-9109715532737503429?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/9109715532737503429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=9109715532737503429&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/9109715532737503429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/9109715532737503429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/k-man.html' title='K-Man'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2131688370326554256</id><published>2009-11-16T21:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:05:28.404-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Nimnastics</title><content type='html'>That would be Sophie speak for gymnastics. Sophie had much fun at nimnastics today, but being the caring soul that she is, when nimnastics was over she made sure to ask "Mommy, did you have a good time clapping?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2131688370326554256?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2131688370326554256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2131688370326554256&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2131688370326554256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2131688370326554256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/nimnastics.html' title='Nimnastics'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2314665723065384847</id><published>2009-11-16T09:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T09:13:57.320-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Deed for the Day</title><content type='html'>If you go to this web site, &lt;a href="http://www.letssaythanks.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"&gt;www.LetsSayThanks.com&lt;/a&gt;  you can pick out a thank you card and Xerox will print it and it will be sent to a soldier that is currently serving in  Iraq . You can't pick out who gets it, but it will go to a member of the armed services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How AMAZING it would be if we could get everyone we know to send one!!! It is FREE and it only takes a second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be wonderful if the soldiers received a bunch of these? Whether you are for or against the war, our soldiers over there need to know we are behind them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This takes just 10 seconds and it's a wonderful way to say thank you. Please take the time and please take the time to pass it on for others to do.  We can never say enough thank you's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for taking to time to support our military!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2314665723065384847?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2314665723065384847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2314665723065384847&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2314665723065384847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2314665723065384847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/good-deed-for-day.html' title='Good Deed for the Day'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2046843748044066134</id><published>2009-11-16T09:10:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T09:12:48.704-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>More Sophie Humor</title><content type='html'>Two quick stories...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I asked Sophie if she had tooted and she replied "no, but I honked the horn in my butt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then yesterday I smashed my finger. Hard. As I was hopping around the kitchen like a wild woman Sophie, in great distress, asked me what was wrong. I said "I just smashed the SNOT out of my finger." She gave me a kiss on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ouchie&lt;/span&gt; and said "You need to be more careful Momma, if you smash your finger again ALL the snot will be out of it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2046843748044066134?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2046843748044066134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2046843748044066134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2046843748044066134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2046843748044066134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/more-sophie-humor.html' title='More Sophie Humor'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1903313915338538780</id><published>2009-11-10T08:23:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T09:59:31.588-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Potty Adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Potty Humor</title><content type='html'>My kids think that passing gas is the funniest thing ever. Even &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; walked up to my momma the other day doing his little laugh and saying "I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fawted&lt;/span&gt;. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fawted&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mamaw&lt;/span&gt;." Yesterday Sophie cracked herself up in the kitchen while she was helping me do dishes last night. She tooted and then about fell over herself with laughter as she was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;saying&lt;/span&gt;, "Excuse me, I TOOTED. Did you hear that? Is it stinky? Is it TERRIBLE? I TOOTED. EXCUSE ME!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try not to laugh. I don't want my kids to develop a habit out of fart jokes, but I can't help it. Once they get to giggling it's all I can do not to bust out in hysterics myself. This Mommy business is tough stuff!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1903313915338538780?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1903313915338538780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1903313915338538780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1903313915338538780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1903313915338538780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/potty-humor.html' title='Potty Humor'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-238415300255117781</id><published>2009-11-09T09:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T09:28:11.720-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates from the bad blogger...</title><content type='html'>Our family once again had to battle illness. Jacob and I are currently bringing every single sickness home, last week we dealt with strep. Luckily both the kids seemed to miss it, so after Jacob and I were done laying around like slugs the house is back to normal. The doctor said that we should just get used to it, that until our immune systems can deal with all the bugs in the schools we will get everything. Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had wonderful weather here over the weekend so the kids and I spent a fair amount of time outside raking leaves and jumping in them. I took pictures, but since I've pretty much sworn off digital cameras I'll have to wait until the film is developed. (How antiquated is that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt;? Who waits for film to develop anymore?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad called and wanted the kids Saturday night, so Jacob and I had a kid free evening. We spent it looking at each other and wondering what we did before we had kids. Then we watched a movie and enjoyed the novelty of not having to pause it even once to get more drink or wipe a bottom or blow a nose. It was nice, but I was still glad to get them back on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are still looking for a church. We just haven't found one that feels right yet. I hate the homeless feeling that being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unchurched&lt;/span&gt; leaves us with. We are frustrated, pure and simple. We are waiting on God, unfortunately I am not the most patient person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-238415300255117781?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/238415300255117781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=238415300255117781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/238415300255117781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/238415300255117781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/updates-from-bad-blogger.html' title='Updates from the bad blogger...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8152166994777910437</id><published>2009-11-02T12:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T12:11:41.819-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksoween</title><content type='html'>I should start this with the following information: I LOVE Christmas. I love it, really, I do. A lot. I was raised that you don't put your tree up until the day after Thanksgiving, and I have held to that my whole life... until now. I don't know why, but this year I am even more excited than &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;usual&lt;/span&gt; about Christmas, maybe it's because the kids are going to be so much fun this year, I don't know. Regardless, I am STOKED. I begged and pleaded with my husband to let me put the tree up early this year, and much to my surprise he agreed on the condition that I made Thanksgiving dinner on Halloween and then I could put my tree up November first. Indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year Halloween found me up to my ears in food. I made turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn, peas, green bean casserole and pumpkin pie. A few people came over to eat with us and we had our first successful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Thanksoween&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tree is up, the garland is hung, the Santa's are out, in short, Christmas has arrived at my house. The only part I wasn't allowed to put up is the outside decorations, those have to wait until after Thanksgiving, but I can handle that. Sophie and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; loved helping decorate, in fact they re-decorate the bottom quarter of the tree about every ten minutes. And to top it all off. I have awesome leftovers for the whole week. I'm feeling a tradition starting here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8152166994777910437?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8152166994777910437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8152166994777910437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8152166994777910437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8152166994777910437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksoween.html' title='Thanksoween'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7378134731117864821</id><published>2009-10-16T14:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T14:52:02.843-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>A few stories before we take off....</title><content type='html'>Today we are leaving to go camping for the weekend at a local park that has Halloween celebrations every weekend in October. They even go trick or treating, where Sophie will be a ladybug and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; will be Diego. The Diego costume loos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;suspiciously&lt;/span&gt; like regular clothes with a vest added to the top, because that is exactly what it is. I totally suck in the costume department. It is supposed to be rainy and cold, so luckily we are in a rented RV rather than a tent. We will be with friends and family so we will have a great time. If you will recall, Sophie calls campers "camping houses". She calls the RV we are in the "pee camping house" because it is big enough to have a bathroom in it. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it is fall break here I had the day off work. The kids and I met Jacob for lunch at the local Mexican place in town. As we were eating an older Hispanic gentleman was washing off a table next to us. Sophie very loudly asked "WHY IS DAT ANGRY MAN &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WASHIN&lt;/span&gt;' THE TABLE? WHY IS HE SO ANGRY?". Luckily I don't think he spoke English, because he really &lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt; rather grumpy looking. She continued to ask about the angry man all through lunch, such was her concern for his feelings. I guess &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; steady stream of Care Bears is paying off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7378134731117864821?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7378134731117864821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7378134731117864821&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7378134731117864821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7378134731117864821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/10/few-stories-before-we-take-off.html' title='A few stories before we take off....'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5147778961150257887</id><published>2009-10-15T13:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T13:26:35.450-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Called Out</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Sophie got her stool out to climb up and get her toothbrush. While she was up there she looked at the top of the cabinet and discovered that I had borrowed one of her hair barrettes. She then promptly hopped off her stool to track me down. Once she found me she told me "Momma, you not use my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bawettes&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wid&lt;/span&gt; out asking me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;otay&lt;/span&gt;? You not get my stuff &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wid&lt;/span&gt; out asking me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;furst&lt;/span&gt;, you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;unnerstan&lt;/span&gt; me, Momma? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Dat&lt;/span&gt; not nice."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she walked away, leaving me speechless and Jacob laughing like and idgit. I guess she put me in my place!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5147778961150257887?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5147778961150257887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5147778961150257887&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5147778961150257887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5147778961150257887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/10/called-out.html' title='Called Out'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-598161514841739559</id><published>2009-09-29T08:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T08:50:23.888-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>I Pwedge Awegence</title><content type='html'>Andi and Sos have been working on saying the Pledge of Allegence any time Sos sees an American flag.  Last night while Andi and I were in the kitchen getting dinner ready, out of no where Sos says she wants to say her Pwedge Awegence.  I started saying it and would stop and let her repeat what I said which is how it normally goes, and then after she was done repeating it she started over and went through the whole thing all on her own without forgetting any of it.  Andi and I looked at each other with our eyes wide and then asked her to do it again. She did. Then she called mamaw and said it for her.  It's official, Sophie now knows her Pwedge.  Needless to say we're pretty proud and amazed at how much she learns so fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-598161514841739559?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/598161514841739559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=598161514841739559&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/598161514841739559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/598161514841739559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-pwedge-awegence.html' title='I Pwedge Awegence'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6685703062945575939</id><published>2009-09-24T07:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T07:50:22.731-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>I Jump!</title><content type='html'>K-Man is a jumper: He jumps over stairs, he jumps over my legs if I am on the floor, Jacob the other day caught him trying to jump off the arm of the couch, though luckily he got to him in time. If there is even the slightest dip or step I just stop because I know what is coming. First the windup: he bends over so far that he almost topples onto his head, all the while pushing his arms back behind him as far as they possibly can go. Next, the butt wiggle. I think that is pretty self &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;explanatory&lt;/span&gt;. Then the jump. He will launch himself as far as he can (sometimes it's pretty impressive) and land into this strange sort of roll. Then he pops up, yells "I Jump!" and then says "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Taaa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Daaaaaa&lt;/span&gt;" while he waves his arms around expansively for applause. Which I give at once because little boys only find such joy in jumping for a short while and I want it to last as long as possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6685703062945575939?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6685703062945575939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6685703062945575939&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6685703062945575939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6685703062945575939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-jump.html' title='I Jump!'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-569193034245683289</id><published>2009-09-24T07:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T07:43:19.218-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>But Not Teegan.</title><content type='html'>We stopped by the store the other day and Sophie asked from the backseat,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are we ALL going in?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Sosie, we are all going in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Even Teegan?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes Sos, even Keegan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"ALL of us?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, darling, now undo your seatbelt?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Even TEEGAN? Teegan is going with us?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it went for about three minutes. She really wanted him to stay in the car.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-569193034245683289?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/569193034245683289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=569193034245683289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/569193034245683289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/569193034245683289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/09/but-not-teegan.html' title='But Not Teegan.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8186511139465712801</id><published>2009-09-03T22:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T22:17:23.935-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>The Camping House</title><content type='html'>We are taking the kids camping this weekend for the first time. My friend Amy let us borrow their camper, which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sos&lt;/span&gt; promptly dubbed the "Camping House". It seems appropriate. I am looking forward to the long weekend with my family. I am hoping that everyone stays healthy and that we have a great time. The healthy part isn't random, it's just that the kids at school are dropping like flies from anything from the stomach flu to.... wait for it..... MONO. Yeah, like I want to bring THAT home to the kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else much going on here... waiting for Friday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8186511139465712801?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8186511139465712801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8186511139465712801&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8186511139465712801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8186511139465712801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/09/camping-house.html' title='The Camping House'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1211217831047649057</id><published>2009-09-01T15:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T15:18:16.989-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>May I Have Your Attention, Please</title><content type='html'>The other day in the car Sophie throws her hands out wide and yells, "Ladies and Gentleman.... and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Constwuction&lt;/span&gt; Workers!" I'm not sure what she wanted to tell them though because I was laughing too hard to hear it.  She is a mess!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1211217831047649057?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1211217831047649057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1211217831047649057&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1211217831047649057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1211217831047649057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/09/may-i-have-your-attention-please.html' title='May I Have Your Attention, Please'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1324976555759653213</id><published>2009-08-26T20:13:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T20:38:13.182-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Bear Bears</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; already watches TV. I'll pause for a collective gasp, for some of you to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unsubscribe&lt;/span&gt; my blog for terrible parenting skills and for the ranting emails to come in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wait for it....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, excellent. Sophie didn't watch TV until she was over two, but really, she just wasn't that into it. No Elmo, no Dora, nothing. She just didn't dig it.... and then she DID. She is totally down with watching TV. So since she watches TV now, so does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;. He wants to watch the "bear bears &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;moobie&lt;/span&gt;", which to you, gentle reader, means the Care Bear Movie. He is really, really into Care Bears. I think this might bug Jacob because it's not manly, but I think that sometimes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; plays with trucks WHILE he watches Care Bears, so I guess that makes up for it. I think it's funny since I made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; be a Care Bear for Halloween last year. Remember that? He was the most ticked off Brave Heart of all time. The indignation, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;embarrassment&lt;/span&gt;, the horror. I bet he would be thrilled to have that costume now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374451527891681330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SpXjMIaKADI/AAAAAAAABQw/T86mVFI-PHI/s320/pissed+lionheart.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1324976555759653213?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1324976555759653213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1324976555759653213&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1324976555759653213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1324976555759653213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/08/bear-bears.html' title='Bear Bears'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SpXjMIaKADI/AAAAAAAABQw/T86mVFI-PHI/s72-c/pissed+lionheart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-762214949571138063</id><published>2009-08-25T20:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T20:50:29.838-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jacob's Birthday is today.</title><content type='html'>I'm glad he was born so that I could love him. Now that I have acknowledged that, onto other things. Our anniversary is this weekend, being the romantic people that we are I think to celebrate Jacob is going to work overtime and I will stay home with the kids. Do we know how to party or what? Seven years on Sunday. Ten total. A decade of living with his bad jokes... totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job is going well. It's stressful dealing with some of the kids that I know will not pass no matter what I do to help them, but rewarding in that I am already seeing improvements in some of the others. One day I'll find I job that my whole heart doesn't go into, though I ran that theory past Jacob and he doesn't think it's possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I haven't blogged about this because I tend not to blog about stuff that is very personal to me, other than my kids of course, but I have to tell you this news to tell you other news. (Did you follow that? Could that have been the worst &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt; structure you have ever seen?) Jacob and I have been looking for a new church for a while now. The details don't matter, suffice to say that we still very much love the people at the last church but felt the need to move on. End that story, begin new story: Sunday we attended a church that we hope will become our new church family. I am very excited as I intensely dislike being "homeless". I am praying that this works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other random news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob got his GPS in. We programmed it to talk like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Beavis&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Butthead&lt;/span&gt;. It. is. amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also got a bearded dragon. It's cool. We named it Johnny Five. He hangs out and basks under his heat lamp. Jacob likes him because he is cool looking. I like him because I don't have to clean up after him or feed him. Okay, and he's pretty cool. To be really honest I think he's awesome, but I'm still not going to clean up after him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The construction is totally done. Mike and Jacob finished up the siding two weeks ago and Jacob got it painted over the weekend. It looks great and we are thrilled to have it done. We went over budget a bit (what project doesn't?) but I don't think it went badly at all. Personally my favorite part was watching Mike and Jacob work together. Jacob's dad died when he was seven, and I think that Mike kind of fills that gap. It's sweet to watch them together, they are great friends but I think they get more out of their relationship than just friendship. They will probably both deny this vehemently because they are much to manly to admit all of this, but really I think they probably love each other. Girls notice this sort of thing.  It's a bro-mance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There really is a lot going on, I think that with the new job I have just been finding other things to do besides blog. In fact, if I were to honest I've been a terrible blogger for a while now. Maybe cooler weather will force me indoors more to blog, but for now I'm just not feeling that compelled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-762214949571138063?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/762214949571138063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=762214949571138063&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/762214949571138063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/762214949571138063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/08/jacobs-birthday-is-today.html' title='Jacob&apos;s Birthday is today.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8437293975192512619</id><published>2009-08-20T15:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T16:11:01.613-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Sophie Tells All</title><content type='html'>Just for fun, her answers are in purple. I wrote in word for word, exactly what she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is one plus one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;My Birthday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite animal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;A Hippo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite toy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A elephant (she doesn't have an elephant)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite book?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;A animal book. I like animal books. My first one I ever seen&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite movie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Einsteins&lt;/span&gt;. Momma can I help you? Can I help you do your bee-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;puter&lt;/span&gt;? Can I? Momma?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the president's name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Galram&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color are Mommy's eyes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Brown. It's brown. They're brown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color are Daddy's eyes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I don't know. What color are your eyes, Daddy? &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(Come Look&lt;/span&gt;) What are they color? They're BLUE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What time is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;My birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is your favorite person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Daddy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Because he is my favorite person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What color are zebra's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;White and Brown.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many fingers do you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;(holds up both hands and looks) Three. And two.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your favorite food?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Broccoli&lt;/span&gt;. Mom, can you play &lt;a href="http://www.deadwhale.com/play.php?game=774"&gt;the bubble game&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much does God love you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Lotsy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8437293975192512619?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8437293975192512619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8437293975192512619&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8437293975192512619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8437293975192512619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/08/sophie-tells-all.html' title='Sophie Tells All'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6223824442122247335</id><published>2009-08-17T19:39:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T20:01:56.866-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><title type='text'>The times they are a changing...</title><content type='html'>At least they are around here. After several years of running the PEERS Project for several local school corporations, I am resigning. The possibility of renewed grant money after this year is looking a bit grim, well, more than a bit to be honest. To be really honest this could very possibly be the last year, save a miracle from God. Not that I think He isn't up to the task or anything, but Jacob and I started praying that He would reveal to us what I was supposed to do. And so He did in a very obvious, beat me over the head sort of way. I love it when he does that, because let's face it, sometimes can be a bit stupid so it's nice when He makes it easy on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, I interview for a position at the local high school on Thursday, got the job on Sunday night around 5:00 and started this morning at 7:30. Talk about prompt response. I will be a Remedial Aide helping students that need help passing the standardized testing for our state. I will primarily be working with the math portions. Plus, it's only  25 hours a week, and I should make enough to finally not have to work two jobs. (YAY!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very excited about this, to be honest I think I will rock at it. It's a lot more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;teachery&lt;/span&gt; (I think I just made that word up) than I thought it would be, I was thinking I would be a lot more, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ummmm&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Aidey&lt;/span&gt;. I made that word up too. I am feeling very overwhelmed at God's direct response, as I always am. You would think after a while it would be normal, but it still rocks my socks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all my PEERS kids, fear not. You guys are the best and have made the last few years a blast. Remember that I adore you all and still want to hang out. Let's go to Burger King and then go bowling. I am recommending a replacement  to my boss for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BHS&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;THS&lt;/span&gt;, and if she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;gets&lt;/span&gt; the job then you will be in super hands. It's entirely possible that she is cooler than I am, which I know is hard to believe. I already found a couple guys to run &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;SSHS&lt;/span&gt;, and they are more than capable of leading you in a stellar, fun filled year.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;CHS&lt;/span&gt;, you guys are the odd ones out. I couldn't find anyone who wanted to take on as school so big. But have no fear, I am sure that you will get someone who is just as cool as Joe or I. I'm sorry you guys have had so many people, it seems like you guys kind of got the shaft, huh? But remember that you all rock. I don't know if any other school made me laugh as hard as you guys did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I've got. I'll answer any questions you guys have. You guys know me well enough that you can ask anything and that I will be entirely honest with you and honestly, you guys are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS- Alan, yes, that's what I was doing at the school today. Come see me. Room 418. I'm the one with the coolness factor of +82.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6223824442122247335?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6223824442122247335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6223824442122247335&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6223824442122247335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6223824442122247335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/08/times-they-are-changing.html' title='The times they are a changing...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1963278162010244771</id><published>2009-08-14T23:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T23:19:43.669-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Sophie's Third Birthday</title><content type='html'>Can you believe it? Three already. She's having a Dora breakfast birthday party tomorrow, where our family will be over for doughnuts and milk. The she wants to go to the zoo. It's supposed to be wretchedly hot tomorrow, but we are still going to the zoo so that Sophie can look at the hippo. In fact, she is so excited that today she made up a song about going to the zoo. My favorite like went like this (imagine little girl sing-song voice),"I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BYYYYY&lt;/span&gt; the hippopotamus." It was a little creepy, I'm not gonna lie. The song perked up after that though, something about an elephant that she was going to paint purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've not been too emotional about this birthday. Her first birthday was by far the toughest, though I remember some tears last year as well. This year I only cried when my friend had a baby just a few days ago. It was a little sad looking at the little baby, who was several pounds bigger that my Sophie was, and realizing how big she is now. In fact it wasn't just a little sad, it was just plain sad. But, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sos&lt;/span&gt; is much more fun now, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie is going through a weird, anxious phase. She was very nervous before her first gymnastics class, worried that she wouldn't have friends and that the other kids wouldn't be wearing their "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;bathding&lt;/span&gt; suits" (leotards). It was a bit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;heart wrenching&lt;/span&gt; to hear how much she already depends on fitting in. In the same anxious fashion she wavers between being super excited about her party and not wanting to have one at all. We'll see how it goes tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of the party and the birthday girl to come. She&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1963278162010244771?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1963278162010244771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1963278162010244771&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1963278162010244771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1963278162010244771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/08/sophies-third-birthday.html' title='Sophie&apos;s Third Birthday'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1195091539510894750</id><published>2009-08-05T22:00:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T07:56:04.172-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pappaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>The post you have all been anxiously awaiting...</title><content type='html'>That's right folks- Keegan's room is finally done(for the most part) and the pictures are finally here. Andi didn't feel like posting, she said something about being too tired to move, so the duty has fallen to me. Lucky you. First of all let me start by saying that we couldn't find any before pictures so for those of you that don't know what it looked like I'm gonna describe it a bit for you. It started off as a sun porch. It was nice and when we moved in we thought it would get lots of use. But, it didn't have any heat or ac run to it so basically it got turned into a 15x10 storage room that before we started only had a path from the kitchen door to the exit door and the rest filled with crap. When we decided to build Keegan's room I didn't want him to have an outside exit door in his room so we needed to build a wall. So with the wall built we threw in a closet. A walk in closet. Biggest in the house. Awesome. And we got a mud room. Awesome. Then we had to frame in and lower the ceiling so that we could insulate because it used to be a porch and there was no insulation. After that we had to pull out all the old windows and install a new window, run electric and heat and ac, throw up some drywall, paint, trim, etc. and BOOM! New room. Keegan loves it. So does Sophie because now she has her own room with butterflies on the wall. Pink butterflies. So without further ado, the pictures: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you see all the colors, keep in mind this is the bedding Keegan will have - once it arrives back from being altered down to a toddler bed size.  There will also be a valance made for his curtains so they won't look so plain out of the same material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnrP964UQEI/AAAAAAAABQY/wdJEOBzBFVw/s1600-h/ggwood1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366830568649801794" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnrP964UQEI/AAAAAAAABQY/wdJEOBzBFVw/s400/ggwood1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpMOAytjGI/AAAAAAAABOg/G3E3qZgZS7s/s1600-h/000_0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366685709579947106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpMOAytjGI/AAAAAAAABOg/G3E3qZgZS7s/s400/000_0008.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the wall we built to make the mudroom and closet. If you have any questions leave a comment and I'll try to answer it. Last of all- Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366686531669062274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpM93UB8oI/AAAAAAAABOo/gm5gaT52k7U/s400/000_0009.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below it the storage bench we built in by the back door.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366686535274415682" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpM-EvnRkI/AAAAAAAABOw/EbHBYoHxOVk/s400/000_0020.JPG" /&gt;Opposite side of the mud room, where we will just have a storage shelf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366686542631205986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpM-gJm_GI/AAAAAAAABO4/X0tCliCLc5Q/s400/000_0021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the inside of a storage bench that was built by the back door.  A handy place for Jacob to take off his muddy boots when he comes in from hunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366687151652006722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpNh87e60I/AAAAAAAABPA/UuyroexT398/s400/000_0022.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366687164340856466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpNisMvZpI/AAAAAAAABPI/EOaixlelxAI/s400/000_0023.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366687170516956610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpNjDNPNcI/AAAAAAAABPQ/TJ2T-7NsxzA/s400/000_0024.JPG" /&gt; This is the chest that Pappaw made and I'm sure he never imagined it painted this color, but he would love for Keegan to have it. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366688773608131490" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpPAXL9S6I/AAAAAAAABPw/PTCbvPmkvEc/s400/000_0025.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andi took the pillow sham to a print shop and had it copied and enlarged, then she mounted them on painted wood panels, and fixed them to the wall with painted roofing nails.  There are four panels of those in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366688778742323042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpPAqUC12I/AAAAAAAABP4/jjx9QIeZNPY/s400/000_0026.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Above is the closet, which has 2 rows for clothes and  about 8 shelves up the opposite side - in effect practically doubling the closet space we had in the entire house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Below is a cabinet that Andi's mom used for Andi when she was a baby.  Now it's being used for Keegan. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366688787124988642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpPBJioKuI/AAAAAAAABQA/M2cwm0mjbAw/s400/000_0027.JPG" /&gt;Below is Keegan's storage shelf for his toys.  Up on the wall, you can see a bit of the fox picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366689330278661602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpPgw8jfeI/AAAAAAAABQI/ne22_KDVmj4/s400/000_0028.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 377px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 258px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366689346154857426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnpPhsFvA9I/AAAAAAAABQQ/jQhpwQyad6k/s400/000_0029.JPG" /&gt; Lastly, these are some planes that Pappaw had given to Keegan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1195091539510894750?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1195091539510894750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1195091539510894750&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1195091539510894750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1195091539510894750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/08/post-you-have-all-been-anxiously.html' title='The post you have all been anxiously awaiting...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SnrP964UQEI/AAAAAAAABQY/wdJEOBzBFVw/s72-c/ggwood1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1848147050784068226</id><published>2009-07-22T09:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T09:41:49.459-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I need to back off the life lessons.</title><content type='html'>Sophie and I have been having conversations about germs. It started when she was trying to drink the bathwater. I told her it was yucky because all the dirt and germs from her body were in that water. We got quite detailed, going into the germs from her girl parts and bottom were in that water, and if she drank it she could get sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you that to tell you this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie had an "accident" the other day. Other parents know that by "accident" I mean that she peed all over herself. Accident just sounds nicer. She's already upset because she had an accident, but then she is distraught because the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DERMS&lt;/span&gt; ARE ALL &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OBER&lt;/span&gt; ME! MOMMA, GET THE &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;DERMS&lt;/span&gt; OFF! MY LEGS ARE ITCHY WITH &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DERMS&lt;/span&gt;!".  A wet wipe bath was not enough, so even though it was near midnight, a shower was the only thing that would calm her down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may have created my own miniature Howard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hughs&lt;/span&gt;. For her birthday I'm going to buy her a jumbo bottle of hand sanitizer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1848147050784068226?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1848147050784068226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1848147050784068226&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1848147050784068226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1848147050784068226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/07/maybe-i-need-to-back-off-life-lessons.html' title='Maybe I need to back off the life lessons.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-213231936284935375</id><published>2009-07-21T13:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:23:58.901-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What did you say to me?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Smiles</title><content type='html'>Sophie fed the fish the other day at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Momma's&lt;/span&gt; house. Apparently the fish asked for a Sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;game piece&lt;/span&gt;, which the filter immediately sucked up causing Bill to have to dismantle the whole dang thing. She as adamant that the fish were hungry though, so I guess that makes it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has learned when he doesn't like something to scream "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;EEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUWWWWWWWWWWW&lt;/span&gt;". It's both effective and hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating lunch the other day with some friends, there was a lull in the conversation and Sophie piped up "Is it MY turn to talk now?". It was, because we were all laughing too hard to continue talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has learned to say "Sorry", which is good because he has taken to punching Sophie. He gets to practice his sorry a lot, along with a nice trip to the time out corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise I will blog more now. I think I just needed a break. I've got pictures to post and stories to tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-213231936284935375?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/213231936284935375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=213231936284935375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/213231936284935375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/213231936284935375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/07/smiles.html' title='Smiles'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1809693127180923916</id><published>2009-07-02T13:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T13:58:45.281-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crapola'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>And so it begins...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; room is officially underway. We have been trying to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;explain&lt;/span&gt; to the kids that soon they will have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; bedrooms but I don't think they understand. For now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is just excited that the room we keep calling "your new room" is full of power tools and hammers: a little boy's dream come true. Sophie can't figure out where HER new room is, because HER room is supposed to be PINK and PURPLE. She keeps looking out for a pink and purple room, but I hate to tell you, it's not gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room is framed and tonight we are going to start on the ceiling and perhaps the duct work. Hopefully this will all go quickly because number one: I hate having unfinished projects and two: I am super excited. Mostly number two, not in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things going on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally went to the new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Menard's&lt;/span&gt;. Big mistake. I can literally feel Jacob pulsing with excitement over all the new projects that have suddenly popped up for next summer. Lord help us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking: I've been doing it. Ugh. I'm going to join my mom and some others in the half marathon in October. In a rare moment of foresight I actually decided to train for it, since getting  up one morning and walking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;thirteen&lt;/span&gt; miles seems a bit unrealistic. I've been doing four miles now, next week five. This has taken up more time than I expected. I'm not what I thought it would be like, but walking over an hour several times a week adds up, not to mention makes my calves sore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bible Study: Jacob and I are starting the First Place for Health study that Momma is doing. She's lost over 30 pounds! I don't need to lose that much but some weight loss wouldn't be a bad thing for Jacob or I, so away we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids: The kids are hilarious. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is talking more and more, surprising us sometimes with what he has to say. Today he told me "I drop it".  Indeed you did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, you dropped it. I taught Sophie to say "that's how I roll". I'm just waiting for that to backfire on me. "Sophia Grace! Why did  you hit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;?"  "Cause that's how I roll, Mom." At that point I will probably pee my pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's that. I've been taking pictures of the room as it progresses, but I have sworn off my digital camera so you'll have to wait for film to develop. (It was between my camera or my sanity, so the camera had to go.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1809693127180923916?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1809693127180923916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1809693127180923916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1809693127180923916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1809693127180923916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4926829748998433398</id><published>2009-06-25T22:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T08:30:47.905-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Kid Talk</title><content type='html'>My girl has taken to saying some pretty funny things lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. She wears a small plastic bowl on her head almost constantly and calls it her "school hat".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. She points to all the princesses on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt; and calls them her "girlfriends".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. She crawls up in my lap and says "Momma, you're my girl."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she's getting Mac Daddy lessons from someone. Couldn't be Jacob. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. She calls Jacob's gun his "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Powey&lt;/span&gt; Thingy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. She keeps telling me that I need to have baby. That's funny right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is starting to say words more and more. It's kind of weird the words he picks up on though. Forget cat, dog or cow though on occasion he'll say one of those. He's more into banana, germs and scooter. Why does he know scooter? Who is teaching my children?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also decided that the name of his "boy part" was toe. He very seriously pointed to it while on the potty, said "toe", then even more seriously pointing down to his actual toes and said "toe". So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has eleven toes in his mind. Now we've been learning anatomical names of the "boy parts". This is where a handbook would be handy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4926829748998433398?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4926829748998433398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4926829748998433398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4926829748998433398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4926829748998433398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/kid-talk.html' title='Kid Talk'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-9041100107044718764</id><published>2009-06-21T20:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T20:20:36.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Jacob...</title><content type='html'>I was going to write a post about how much I love you and what a fantastic Dad you are, but then I started to cry and I stopped. You know what I think about the matter. I love you. Happy Daddy Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-9041100107044718764?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/9041100107044718764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=9041100107044718764&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/9041100107044718764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/9041100107044718764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/dear-jacob.html' title='Dear Jacob...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6001943430734091824</id><published>2009-06-21T19:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T19:29:22.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back</title><content type='html'>We got back from Iowa on Thursday night around 11:00 pm. We left a day early because Sophie was very, very homesick and Keegan and I were both getting eye infections. (Mine has cleared up, he is still on medicine.) We had a wonderful, peaceful time. David and Jan are wonderful to stay with, we felt so pampered! I've got pictures, but I have to wait for them to be developed because my digital camera wasn't charging correctly. Aunt Jan sent home some pictures with me, but they are on a DVD and I'm not smart enough to figure out how to load them on here... I'm actually not sure that I even can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post more about vacation once I get the pictures, that way I can explain things as I go. We are glad to be home and are getting back into the swing of things. We could tell we were back home when we woke up the next day and it was 98 degrees outside. Literally. Though I can tell you, it made me glad I didn't have to work that day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post the pictures when I get them. Back to normal life tomorrow. I feel good about that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6001943430734091824?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6001943430734091824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6001943430734091824&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6001943430734091824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6001943430734091824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/back.html' title='Back'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8361588852646551565</id><published>2009-06-11T07:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T07:18:56.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baycayshun</title><content type='html'>That's right kids, we are headed out tomorrow on "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;baycayshun&lt;/span&gt;". We are going to go visit Jacob's aunt and uncle in Iowa for a week. We don't have a whole lot planned while we are gone, mostly just visiting and relaxing. However, along with a trip to the local zoo and amusement park we are going to take a day trip from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; house to the Mall of America, which I am excited about. They have a whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nickelodeon&lt;/span&gt; theme park there, so Sophie will get to see Dora, Diego and Blue. She will freak out! And they have a Lego Universe, which will make Jacob freak out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight will encompass a frenzy of packing and shopping so that we can head out first thing in the morning. It's a ten hour drive. A ten hour drive with two toddlers. We'll see how that goes. So I'll be back in a week with lots of pictures I'm sure. Have a good week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8361588852646551565?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8361588852646551565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8361588852646551565&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8361588852646551565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8361588852646551565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/baycayshun.html' title='Baycayshun'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-458461854400860192</id><published>2009-06-04T22:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T23:03:48.810-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>K-Man Michael</title><content type='html'>Jacob calls &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; K-Man Michael. I thought it was cute until he said it reminded him of a pro wrestler. Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; he says it the unwanted image of Hulk Hogan comes into my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is starting to talk more and more, though it's very garbled. His favorite word is by far "shoes". It was just about his first word he learned. Shoes are also one of his favorite objects. The boy loves shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has peed in the potty once. I am certain it was a fluke. The mistake kind of fluke, not the fish kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He already needs another haircut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is ten times more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cuddly&lt;/span&gt; and sweet than Sophie ever dreamed of being. I love this about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is up way past his bedtime, and so am I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-458461854400860192?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/458461854400860192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=458461854400860192&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/458461854400860192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/458461854400860192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/k-man-michael.html' title='K-Man Michael'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6215184061928689310</id><published>2009-06-04T22:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T22:57:33.823-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pappaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Landmarks</title><content type='html'>Sophie is starting to notice the buildings as we pass by. The local courthouse is a "pyramid" where the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gytptos&lt;/span&gt;" live. The main road through the next town is "the road to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pappaw's&lt;/span&gt; (grandpa's)  house" and the park is "almost to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mamaw's&lt;/span&gt; house". Most of the time it's cute and sweet, until Momma told me today that she saw a blue truck that looked like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Pappaw's&lt;/span&gt; and recognized it at once. "Look, that's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Pappaw's&lt;/span&gt; truck!!!" Then it's more bitter than sweet. Four months and two days. Not that I'm counting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6215184061928689310?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6215184061928689310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6215184061928689310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6215184061928689310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6215184061928689310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/landmarks.html' title='Landmarks'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3747639247088720366</id><published>2009-06-02T21:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T21:27:29.063-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>The SUV</title><content type='html'>Sophie noticed the other day that our Trailblazer isn't a car, but it's not a truck either. "Momma, what IS our car?" she asked. I told her that it was an SUV to which she replied "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OHHHH&lt;/span&gt;. and SUB." I corrected her and she got it right the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I asked her what kind of car we had and without missing a beat she said "A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;QRS&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3747639247088720366?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3747639247088720366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3747639247088720366&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3747639247088720366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3747639247088720366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/06/suv.html' title='The SUV'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-901821493769386148</id><published>2009-05-24T08:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T08:09:40.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The yard sale of eternal preparation</title><content type='html'>is finally over. We made right at $600 to help remodel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; room with. I'm just glad it's over. Thanks very much to Momma, Jacob and Carly for all of your help! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-901821493769386148?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/901821493769386148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=901821493769386148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/901821493769386148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/901821493769386148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/05/yard-sale-of-eternal-preparation.html' title='The yard sale of eternal preparation'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3920859880440604497</id><published>2009-05-19T22:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T22:44:00.902-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Never Scare a Toddler in the Wee Hours of the Morning</title><content type='html'>Little Miss Sophie has started coming into our room at night. Around about one in the morning she creeps into the bedroom, going to Jacob's side of the bed because he is such a sound sleeper she clambers over his head and snuggles down between us. We had discussed this and decided that it was not going to happen again. Last night I, the very light sleeper, heard the now familiar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pitty&lt;/span&gt; pat of Sophie feet approaching the door and I whispered, "Jacob".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door opens. I nudge Jacob in the ribs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is now climbing onto the bed. I elbow Jacob. Hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie is now ON THE MAN'S HEAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"JACOB!!!!" I hollered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGG&lt;/span&gt;" yelled Sophie as she peed all over Jacob's still sleeping head. All over the pillow, the sheets, her pajamas, Jacob's hair. Then the wailing and gnashing of teeth starts as Sophie realizes she peed on herself and Jacob is groggily starting to sit up, trying to figure out what is going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight Sophie is supposed to stay in her bed again. We'll see how this goes. We only have two sets of sheets though, and the clean ones are on the bed. Let's hope we have a good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3920859880440604497?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3920859880440604497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3920859880440604497&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3920859880440604497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3920859880440604497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/05/never-scare-toddler-in-wee-hours-of.html' title='Never Scare a Toddler in the Wee Hours of the Morning'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7334180047004049645</id><published>2009-05-19T21:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T22:21:51.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This and That</title><content type='html'>During a storm last week our laptop was decimated. It is currently under repair by the go to man, Larry, but until it is done I am using the old Mac with the ghetto keyboard. And if the ghetto keyboard wasn't enough to deter me from posting, our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; was out most of the week as well. A double storm whammy. Ugh. So here is what has been going on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob was helping Sophie pull up her pants and she looked at him and said "you so smart, daddy." I think her spiritual gift is gonna be edification for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took the kids to Holiday World today for the first time. We being my Momma and myself, as Jacob had to work. We had such a blast! It is so cool getting to rediscover things through my kids. I had forgotten how cool Holiday World really was. I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;some pictures&lt;/span&gt; from about the first ten minutes, right up until my camera died. I can't load them on the Mac, (different software),  but I can maybe load them at my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Momma's&lt;/span&gt;. I'll try to soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite part of the day was watching Sophie fling herself into Santa's arms. She was SO EXCITED, and of course I am emotionally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dysfunctional&lt;/span&gt; so I cried because she was so happy. She also loved the roller coaster for wee kids, the carousel and the scrambler. Then, perhaps most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;surprisingly&lt;/span&gt; of all, she sat and watched the entire dive show, all the while laughing, cheering, oohing and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ahhing&lt;/span&gt;. My friend from high school that I used to dive with before I got lazy and too scared to do reverses, Dan, is the manager of the dive show and is still a blast to watch. Afterwards he talked to Sophie and she thought that was SO COOL.  (At this point I would like to apologize to every  English teacher I ever had for that terrible run on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;sentence&lt;/span&gt; I had a bit ago. You taught me better than that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; did great today as well, he rode everything he could and waited patiently for Sophie on the things he couldn't. He was a hoot to watch as on every single ride his face would first be like "oh crap.... I don't know about this." (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; face still says crap because his Mommy hasn't broke herself of that particular habit yet.) Then his face would oh so slowly morph into possibly having fun mode, then bust out into full blow "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;WHEEEEEEEE&lt;/span&gt;", which is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;incidentally&lt;/span&gt; one of the only words he says. He was awesome. Tonight when it was almost bedtime Sophie asked "Momma, when we get done with our naps can we go back to Holiday World?" I'm going to go out on a limb and say they had a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob started playing softball with the FOP on Tuesday nights. It took exactly two games for him to hurt himself. He was sliding and buggered up his knee, though in my opinion his miserly knee injury was dwarfed by a local deputy who was beaned in the head and had blood flowing freely down his face. Blood always wins the injury contests, Jacob. Sorry. Moving on in this unending post....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie has been begging me to take her skating and my friend Meags had her birthday party at the skating rink. I took the kids and Sophie's little pink princess skates which got worn for aproximately ten minutes before she was done with skating. I just have to say that if you have never skated while pushing a double stroller with two kids in said stroller, it brings a whole new level of tired to the whole glut area. Um.... yeah. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The yard sale of never ending preparation (YSONEP) continues it's timeless sojourn towards the weekend. Once we get rid of all the baby stuff, I'll get pregnant. HA! Just kidding, but you know that would be when it would happen, right? No, what will happen is that we will start remodeling the spare room and make it Keegan's bedroom. Hey, it's a goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is unending, I just need to nip it in the bud. I'll try to post, despite the ghetto keyboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS-- to all my facebook buddies. My account is messed up. I can't get past my homepage so any messages you are sending I have no way to reply to. I swear I am not ignoring  you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7334180047004049645?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7334180047004049645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7334180047004049645&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7334180047004049645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7334180047004049645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-and-that.html' title='This and That'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4302821773589031242</id><published>2009-05-13T21:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:14:43.992-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Sophie &amp; God</title><content type='html'>Sophie fell about a week ago at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mamaw's&lt;/span&gt; and got a long scratch on her elbow.  She was showing me her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ouchie&lt;/span&gt; tonight and I was explaining to her how God makes our skin to fix itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes got huge and she just exclaimed, "Mommy, I love God.  I'm going to go play now with Jesus."  And as she walked off, she was saying, "Come on, Jesus.  Let's go play."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm certain Jesus was with her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4302821773589031242?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4302821773589031242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4302821773589031242&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4302821773589031242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4302821773589031242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/05/sophie-god.html' title='Sophie &amp; God'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2697479077120130482</id><published>2009-05-04T22:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:45:06.362-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pappaw'/><title type='text'>Three Months. And Two Days. Not that I'm Counting.</title><content type='html'>Today I was going through Sophie's baby book with her. She wanted to see a picture of herself in her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;momma's&lt;/span&gt; belly. As we were flipping through we came across several pictures of her and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pappaw&lt;/span&gt;. She looked at me, as I am already crying, and says "I want to see THIS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Pappaw&lt;/span&gt;." I reminded her that he was in heaven with Jesus. "I want to go see Jesus and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Pappaw&lt;/span&gt;. Can we go now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him entirely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2697479077120130482?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2697479077120130482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2697479077120130482&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2697479077120130482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2697479077120130482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/05/three-months.html' title='Three Months. And Two Days. Not that I&apos;m Counting.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5633226861925383702</id><published>2009-05-01T02:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T02:50:40.261-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bella'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie. Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being a Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Sometimes the weekend is more work than the workweek</title><content type='html'>Like this upcoming weekend, while filled with fun things to do seems like we will have zero downtime. Friday night we are going to dinner at some friends of ours, the Saturday I have to work and then we will be dropping the kids off with my lovely &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SIL&lt;/span&gt; Michelle so that we can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chaperone&lt;/span&gt; the local high school prom. And after prom. Which doesn't get over until three o'clock. In the morning. Ugh. Then it's up early enough on Sunday to get the kids and my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;niece&lt;/span&gt; Bella, go to church, attend the church kickball game and have Bella spend the night with us on Sunday. I'm hoping that such a full day will send them all to bed early as I am sure that Jacob and I will be tired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should be a lot of fun, but a lot of work too. I'm looking forward to Sunday and having the day to hang out with the kids more than anything else. Sophie wanted to spend the night with Momma once this week, and then they both had to stay on Wednesday night because I had a very early appointment on Thursday. I miss them when they are gone! It used to be more of a break than anything, but now that I am gone so much during the day with work I just want to be with them when I am home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that working so much has really changed a lot of priorities now as well. Before I would get stressed out if the floor wasn't swept and mopped and such, or if the bathroom wasn't cleaned frequently. Now I spend a lot less time cleaning and a lot more time playing in a somewhat dirty house, and you know what? The kids don't mind one bit and neither do I. This week we started learning letter sounds, how to work a zipper, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; learned a few new signs, we planted our tiny vegetable garden and I still managed to get chores done. Well, most of them anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5633226861925383702?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5633226861925383702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5633226861925383702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5633226861925383702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5633226861925383702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/05/sometimes-weekend-is-more-work-than.html' title='Sometimes the weekend is more work than the workweek'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6693348399360116966</id><published>2009-04-29T08:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T08:39:23.714-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Tootkie</title><content type='html'>Momma and I were running errands the other day with Sophie and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;. Sophie said something, I don't remember what, and Mom told her she was one smart cookie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I NOT a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tootkie&lt;/span&gt;," she said immediately.  "I Sophie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Drace&lt;/span&gt; ________. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Teegan&lt;/span&gt; is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;tootkie&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love hearing how she says things and when she says them. Every morning when she wakes up one of the first things she says is "I getting bigger and bigger Momma". And it's true, she is. Too big, too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has stopped calling herself &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hosie&lt;/span&gt;. She can recite her phone number and address. She dresses herself. She is getting bigger and bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom watches the kids while I work, which seems to me a lot lately, and so Sophie decided she needed schoolbooks to work on while the kids are doing their school work. She is now the proud owner of three new preschool workbooks. It's fun to see how much she knows and fun to watch her learn new things. She really is one smart &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;tootkie&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6693348399360116966?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6693348399360116966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6693348399360116966&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6693348399360116966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6693348399360116966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/04/tootkie.html' title='Tootkie'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3851488293928071436</id><published>2009-04-23T15:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T15:20:04.282-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Derby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Blogger Failure</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I suck at blogging. Those times seem to correlate with busy work times. Like the last few weeks. But- that is mostly behind me now as the end of school draws nearer. I would post some funny kid stories, but I really haven't seen that much of them lately. In fact, I hope they wake up soon so we can play. Here is a bit of what we have been doing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momma got the kids a &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Jesus-Storybook-Bible-Every-Whispers/dp/0310708257/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1240517948&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;cool new book for Easter&lt;/a&gt;. We are reading it to Sophie before bedtime. At times it is above her head, but it is a beautiful book that tells the story of Christ in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;fantasticly&lt;/span&gt; relevant way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is knocking his head on anything he can find. He looks more like a prize fighter than a toddler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's getting warmer so we spend a little bit every evening sitting on the front porch eating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Popsicles&lt;/span&gt; and blowing "wishing flowers" (dandelion seeds).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie and I have started working on letter sounds. I'm pretty sure she will be an early reader, which I love. Reading is something that both Jacob and I love to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are chaperoning the local high school prom next weekend. I got a fabulous dress that looks like something Jackie Onassis would have worn. I just need the short jacket and a pillbox hat, but I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob is teaching his last DARE class today, and I taught my last Don't Have Premarital Sex class today, so we are both breathing a little easier as of today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My knee is still messed up. I haven't been to derby since the end of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;February&lt;/span&gt;. I am hoping to be back at it next week, but I guess we will see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am attempting to run my first 5k this Saturday. Pray hard. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the run down of what has been happening. Hopefully I will have more kid stuff soon, because I am going to have some serious playtime coming up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3851488293928071436?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3851488293928071436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3851488293928071436&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3851488293928071436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3851488293928071436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/04/blogger-failure.html' title='Blogger Failure'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4825800471071353099</id><published>2009-04-12T21:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T21:38:30.381-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being a Mom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Momma Mush</title><content type='html'>I will never forget the day I found my first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;stretch&lt;/span&gt; mark. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. They only got worse with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;. But tonight he found my stretch marks. He ran his little fingers over the narrow, silver lines on my hips and stomach them oh so sweetly leaned over and kissed them, thus making the stretch marks totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a totally unrelated note, the kids painted the big window the other day with their toothbrushes, using their spit as paint. Momma mush over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4825800471071353099?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4825800471071353099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4825800471071353099&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4825800471071353099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4825800471071353099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/04/momma-mush.html' title='Momma Mush'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8418071108956865402</id><published>2009-04-11T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T22:32:13.359-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Indeed...</title><content type='html'>He has risen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8418071108956865402?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8418071108956865402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8418071108956865402&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8418071108956865402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8418071108956865402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/04/indeed.html' title='Indeed...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-87014984361425603</id><published>2009-04-08T20:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T20:34:33.126-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Learning Time with Sophie</title><content type='html'>The Sophster is learning opposites. Last night as we were brushing our teeth she told me that her teeth were little and mine were big. She also told me as I was getting dressed that when I had my boots on my feet were long and hers were short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today as I was bending over to pick up a cup she told me my bottom is big and hers is little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This opposites thing is highly overrated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-87014984361425603?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/87014984361425603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=87014984361425603&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/87014984361425603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/87014984361425603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/04/learning-time-with-sophie.html' title='Learning Time with Sophie'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2041455025045400688</id><published>2009-04-03T09:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T09:23:17.129-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ok, I love bacon...</title><content type='html'>and those of you that know me know how much I simply ADORE bacon. But really, this is just taking things too far...&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320470226623474962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 181px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SdYbe2fvLRI/AAAAAAAABOI/JeoFkB-lOPU/s400/bacon+lube.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear family, please do not ever, ever purchase this for me. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2041455025045400688?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2041455025045400688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2041455025045400688&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2041455025045400688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2041455025045400688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/04/ok-i-love-bacon.html' title='Ok, I love bacon...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SdYbe2fvLRI/AAAAAAAABOI/JeoFkB-lOPU/s72-c/bacon+lube.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1223701411184504882</id><published>2009-03-25T12:50:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T13:06:34.976-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Taffy</title><content type='html'>Sophie called me yesterday at work. "Can I doe spend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; night &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wif&lt;/span&gt; Aunt Taffy please". (Taffy=Kathy) I told her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, then the next thing I hear is her screaming "SHE SAID &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OTAY&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;MAMAW&lt;/span&gt;! SHE SAID &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;OTAY&lt;/span&gt;! LET'S DOE!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward about 8 hours. It's 9:00pm and Kathy calls. I can hear Sophie in the background "I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;weally&lt;/span&gt; wide awake Taffy. I NOT doe to bed. I NOT, I NOT, I NOT doe to bed. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;weally&lt;/span&gt;, berry awake!". I went to go get her, we stopped at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart and then Sophie came home and I plopped her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;weally&lt;/span&gt;, berry wide awake butt in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Momma asked her today what she did at Aunt Kathy's, she replied, "I don't know, Honey, but I wish I could have stayed a bit longer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Kathy calls everyone "Honey" and now Sophie does too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1223701411184504882?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1223701411184504882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1223701411184504882&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1223701411184504882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1223701411184504882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/taffy.html' title='Taffy'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4346212399850772343</id><published>2009-03-25T12:08:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T12:47:05.935-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Zoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Meet Jade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqZ-JXqOI/AAAAAAAABOA/R86G41GKk6k/s1600-h/IMG_0041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317179304475863266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqZ-JXqOI/AAAAAAAABOA/R86G41GKk6k/s400/IMG_0041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div&gt;My best friend Jade is a docent at the local zoo. She is also one of the most beautiful people I know, but that's another post all unto itself. She is one of the people that hold the animals for the little kids to pet and such. She loves her job there and so when we called to ask if she wanted to come with us she was thrilled. Even on her days off, she loves the zoo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going to the zoo with Jade was awesome. She knows all the names, both the technical name and it's name-name. Like that the really big snake's name is China. Plus it was fun to watch Jade watch the kids, she was just in awe of how they function. It was a hoot. And getting to spend the day with my best friend made for a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqZWDIRBI/AAAAAAAABNw/13xc4d13tEA/s1600-h/IMG_0039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317179293712270354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqZWDIRBI/AAAAAAAABNw/13xc4d13tEA/s400/IMG_0039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is her trying to get the alligators out for the kids to pet. She couldn't get it out by herself and she was more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; than the kids were. On a sort of related note, Jade is the only person I know who bawled hysterically when Steve Irwin died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqJe9WQaI/AAAAAAAABNo/S6f7dNfy118/s1600-h/IMG_0037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317179021226033570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqJe9WQaI/AAAAAAAABNo/S6f7dNfy118/s400/IMG_0037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the Egyptian Tortoise. Sophie liked it a lot, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; wasn't that impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqJUys6tI/AAAAAAAABNg/L_ANtqpN4cE/s1600-h/IMG_0036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317179018497026770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqJUys6tI/AAAAAAAABNg/L_ANtqpN4cE/s400/IMG_0036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The lizard generated  more interest from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, I can't remember what kind it was. Sorry Jade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqI1UdzxI/AAAAAAAABNY/GOxK5yn9HsM/s1600-h/IMG_0035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317179010048708370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqI1UdzxI/AAAAAAAABNY/GOxK5yn9HsM/s400/IMG_0035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Did I mention that Jade is over six foot tall? Just an FYI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqIQNsWmI/AAAAAAAABNQ/BqMc2AyfoaA/s1600-h/IMG_0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317179000088189538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqIQNsWmI/AAAAAAAABNQ/BqMc2AyfoaA/s400/IMG_0034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sophie is carefully checking out the turtles here too. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; was busy growling at the (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Caiman&lt;/span&gt;?) alligator thing in the next exhibit to be bothered with turtles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Scppv6O_HlI/AAAAAAAABNI/wUPAuci2VxA/s1600-h/IMG_0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317178581871173202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Scppv6O_HlI/AAAAAAAABNI/wUPAuci2VxA/s400/IMG_0031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; favorite thing by far was this, the Tapir. I literally had to drag him away from it. He growled at this a lot too. What can I say? He growls a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Scppv_mRqcI/AAAAAAAABNA/p5JTBgHiqkI/s1600-h/IMG_0030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317178583311034818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Scppv_mRqcI/AAAAAAAABNA/p5JTBgHiqkI/s400/IMG_0030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sophie was attempting to check out the sights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScppvQrxNoI/AAAAAAAABM4/5S6enX2tz6w/s1600-h/IMG_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317178570717607554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScppvQrxNoI/AAAAAAAABM4/5S6enX2tz6w/s400/IMG_0029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is checking out a sloth. Jade is feeling her ovaries tug at her soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Scppu1Yq8pI/AAAAAAAABMw/Y5XviAOBxYw/s1600-h/IMG_0027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317178563389747858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/Scppu1Yq8pI/AAAAAAAABMw/Y5XviAOBxYw/s400/IMG_0027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Notice the professional "I know what I'm talking about point". Currently she is pointing at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;squirrel&lt;/span&gt; monkey. I bet you didn't know that female &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;squirrel&lt;/span&gt; monkeys have a fake penis to intimidate other females. Don't feel bad, I didn't know either. Jade is full of useful information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4346212399850772343?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4346212399850772343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4346212399850772343&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4346212399850772343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4346212399850772343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/meet-jade.html' title='Meet Jade'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/ScpqZ-JXqOI/AAAAAAAABOA/R86G41GKk6k/s72-c/IMG_0041.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5269645166468280999</id><published>2009-03-23T08:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T08:47:00.436-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Keegan</title><content type='html'>is quite possibly the best cuddler in the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5269645166468280999?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5269645166468280999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5269645166468280999&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5269645166468280999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5269645166468280999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/keegan.html' title='Keegan'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2100959298969355279</id><published>2009-03-22T22:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T22:18:54.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clumsy and Busted</title><content type='html'>The title of this post is also what I am renaming my body. CB for short. The CB missed a stair yesterday and landed sprawled awkwardly in the floor until the husband came and picked it up. Thoughtfully though, the CB managed to be SURE to land on the knee that was already unable to take any pressure whatsoever. Then, just to top it off, the CB let me know in a very painful way yesterday afternoon that something was awry in the old reproductive department, confirmed today at the emergency room that an ovarian cyst had ruptured and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to tell CB to just rub some dirt in it, that it would be fine, but CB would have none of that. There are going to have to be some serious discussions going on between me and the CB soon. Very soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2100959298969355279?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2100959298969355279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2100959298969355279&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2100959298969355279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2100959298969355279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/clumsy-and-busted.html' title='Clumsy and Busted'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6909882258917633224</id><published>2009-03-22T21:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T21:55:53.491-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='What did you say to me?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Food for thought</title><content type='html'>The other day Sophie was not eating her dinner. This is a common occurance as she is constantly wanting to "doe play wit toys, mom". Or "watch a moobie" or any other number of things that distract her. Jacob had finally had enough and said "Sophie, EAT YOUR PEARS" and Sophie promptly bowed her head, folded her hands and said "Dear God, dank you for dis food..." Get it? Eat your pears, and she heard say your prayers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being this kids mom is going to be adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got zoo pictures, will post soon I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6909882258917633224?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6909882258917633224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6909882258917633224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6909882258917633224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6909882258917633224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/food-for-thought.html' title='Food for thought'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6443033469330627343</id><published>2009-03-18T20:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T20:54:39.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold your horses, people! :)</title><content type='html'>I know it's been a while since I blogged when my mom starts getting comments on her blog about me not blogging. So fine, here I am people. The swooning may begin now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see here... the news. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;. Oh that's right, there isn't much. Really, I've worked a lot this week. My dishes are piled up and so is the laundry. I've totally blown my diet this week and my knee still hurts like, um, well, you know what it hurts like. I am loving the greenhouse job but had forgotten how rushed the evening is when you don't get home until after five. (I swear I'm not whining, just commenting.) I don't mind going to work there, even though I miss the kids, it's fun getting to play in the dirt and watch things grow. Even packing plants around for hours never seems to get old. It's warm, it's green, it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;exercise&lt;/span&gt; in disguise, what else could I ask for? What's that you say? A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thonged&lt;/span&gt; cabana boy with a fake tan and a fruity drink? Well, okay, I guess that would be alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a totally uneventful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CASA&lt;/span&gt; court case today. Parents still on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;meth&lt;/span&gt;, kids didn't go home. Go figure, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did get our tax return. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cha&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ching&lt;/span&gt;) It was quite a bit larger than I expected so Jacob and I bought a bigger bed. That's right folks, we are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;officially&lt;/span&gt; sleeping in a queen mattress. I'm not going to lie, the twin was getting a little old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotcha. Wouldn't that be funny? Both of us big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;hosscats&lt;/span&gt; in a twin bed. But really, we pick up our bed tomorrow if it's not raining. Now we just need to find a cheap stove and our house is set for hopefully another year. That sound you are hearing now is my knocking on wood with my entire being. It's more of a wood body slam really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob may have to shave his head soon. If the kids at the high school raise $1,000 for the red cross Jacob goes all Mr. Clean on me. That wouldn't be so bad except that when he was a kid a tree limb fell on his head, giving him several very intense skull fractures. Fractures that left intense scars. He will have the ugliest shaved head in the history of man. All the high school chicks will probably dig it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new goodwill opens in town tomorrow. I am S.T.O.K.E.D. I heart me some goodwill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well for not having anything to say I sure ranted for a while. I'm going to go do some laundry. Okay, I just lied to you. I'm going to go sit on the couch and do nothing. Sounds nice though, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6443033469330627343?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6443033469330627343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6443033469330627343&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6443033469330627343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6443033469330627343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/hold-your-horses-people.html' title='Hold your horses, people! :)'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-520325757834780782</id><published>2009-03-10T16:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T16:20:11.666-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Derby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><title type='text'>The Bum Knee Part Duex</title><content type='html'>I had to finally go get my knee X-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rayed&lt;/span&gt;. I can't put any pressure on it all. The doctor was pretty sure I had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;broken&lt;/span&gt; part of my tibia, but luckily I haven't. Though he said a severe bruise, which I qualify for, is almost as bad. But not QUITE as bad, which is all I needed to hear. He said I was out for 4-6 weeks, but it's already been almost two, so two to four weeks it is. I'll miss one bout this Sunday but will hopefully be up and running, er,... skating in about a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then he said I can jog on it, which sounds weird I know, but really it doesn't hurt to run at all and that way I can keep in good condition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-520325757834780782?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/520325757834780782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=520325757834780782&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/520325757834780782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/520325757834780782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/bum-knee-part-duex.html' title='The Bum Knee Part Duex'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7364347390931542858</id><published>2009-03-10T16:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T16:12:24.701-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Bad Bunnies</title><content type='html'>I woke Sophie up from her nap the other day and she started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; telling me that the bunnies in her room were going to get her. She was pacing around and looking fearful, picking up toys to look under them, all the while talking about the bunnies. Finally she pulled her stool up the center of the room, stood on it and cried "I don't know what's happening!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7364347390931542858?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7364347390931542858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7364347390931542858&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7364347390931542858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7364347390931542858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/bad-bunnies.html' title='Bad Bunnies'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5179611550361676626</id><published>2009-03-10T16:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T16:10:25.973-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Big Dumb Adventures'/><title type='text'>Jacob is Grounded</title><content type='html'>From anything with a blade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday we went to Jacob's moms house to help clean up the yard. She had some intense tree damage from the ice storm at the end of January. So off we went, chainsaw in hand to help cut up trees. While I'm over picking up limbs and piling them up to burn, Jacob is cutting them into small enough &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pieces&lt;/span&gt; to get into the fire pit. Apparently one of the limbs fell into his path and as he kicked it out of the way, he kicked the chainsaw blade, immediately gashing open his knee. I can not express how lucky he was that it was just a gash and not something much, much worse. Anyhow, off to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hospital&lt;/span&gt; we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six stitches later we are waiting for the nurse to come and and clean up the sutures and discharge Jacob, a drunk comes in with an officer Jacob works with. The officer didn't know that Jacob was there, so imagine his surprise when, as the drunk starts to get violent and is being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tasered&lt;/span&gt;, Jacob springs off the table and runs into the next room to help get the guy back under control. After the doctor made sure Jacob was done, she calmly sat him back down and checked all his stitches to be sure he hadn't ripped them all out after she had just told him to take it easy, and off we went. It was by far the most exciting ER visit I've ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait, there is more. I get home today from work to  sheepish Jacob with a bandage on his HAND, where apparently he had injured it while fixing his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;circular&lt;/span&gt; saw and had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;accidently&lt;/span&gt; pulled the trigger. Luckily, no stitches were required and he didn't cut off his pinkie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that Jacob was grounded?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5179611550361676626?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5179611550361676626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5179611550361676626&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5179611550361676626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5179611550361676626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/jacob-is-grounded.html' title='Jacob is Grounded'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5034936979863136131</id><published>2009-03-01T21:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T21:11:54.505-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Derby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ouch'/><title type='text'>The Bum Knee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SatOYkfXDlI/AAAAAAAABMo/lA9vFhlA9K0/s1600-h/DCRG09"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308422769805299282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SatOYkfXDlI/AAAAAAAABMo/lA9vFhlA9K0/s400/DCRG09" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so it's a little worse than I expected it to be. And it just keeps getting darker. Bummer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5034936979863136131?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5034936979863136131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5034936979863136131&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5034936979863136131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5034936979863136131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/bum-knee.html' title='The Bum Knee'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/SatOYkfXDlI/AAAAAAAABMo/lA9vFhlA9K0/s72-c/DCRG09' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6875084949163695192</id><published>2009-03-01T16:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T16:28:45.286-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Derby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>I've been hanging around...</title><content type='html'>What a busy week! I had several days of work in the schools, a few days at the greenhouse, and a trip to Louisville for our bout against &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;DCRD&lt;/span&gt;. It was pretty much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;phenomenal&lt;/span&gt;. We ended up losing by THREE, ugh, but it was so close. We were ahead, then they were ahead, back and forth until they squeaked it out. We had such a blast. Then my best friend and I spent the night a a friends house that we went to high school with, we went out with yet another friend I haven't seen in ages and stayed out way too late! But today I am back home with my family, happy to have had a little break and glad to get kid cuddles and husband hugs. Good stuff. I did manage to bust my knee up a bit at the end of the bout, and it's pretty bruised and swollen, but I've had worse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was gone Sophie brought Jacob one of her play dresses to put on her, followed closely by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; who also had one of her play dresses to put on him. Sophie was not pleased at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; presence in her Minnie Mouse dress, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; on the other hand was pleased as punch. I guess he felt pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also had a trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt; for happy meals. They happy meals came with stickers which Sophie promptly stuck in a neat line across the top of the television screen and declared them to be her very own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt; lights. I love her imagination, but maybe not so much her follow through on what she imagines! She was very unhappy when Daddy took down her "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;twistmas&lt;/span&gt; twee lights".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is officially weaned. (Can we all say FINALLY?) It's been about two weeks without any nursing at all. It's made life so much easier, and he seems to be much happier now that he doesn't have to run back to me to nurse every time he bumps his head. He's much more self-reliant now which I really dig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fishing season is fast approaching, which means that Jacob is just a blur of tackle box &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;preparation&lt;/span&gt; and changing out his lines. It also means that any trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart has the mandatory side trip to the fishing aisle where Sophie has suddenly set her heart on a new purple fishing pole. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has his heart set on grabbing anything he can and throwing it on the ground or destroying it. But Dad and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Sos&lt;/span&gt; are going to have some fun fishing trips coming up I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to go see my Momma. I haven't seen her since Friday morning since she went out of town too, and that's just longer than I'm used to going without seeing her!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6875084949163695192?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6875084949163695192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6875084949163695192&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6875084949163695192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6875084949163695192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/03/ive-been-hanging-around.html' title='I&apos;ve been hanging around...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5118699112655615285</id><published>2009-02-15T21:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T21:26:05.991-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>Let a little time get away and it gets easier and easier to skip blogging. But here I am, finally. I had a few minor medical setbacks in the week that left me more tired than usual, and I have no issue using that as an excuse for not blogging. Anyhow, here I am, back at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a quick update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The winner of the Awesome Charts Book was &lt;a href="http://vaqueenbee.blogspot.com/"&gt;Theresa&lt;/a&gt;. I used a highly complex system to pick her, being I picked a random number and went to see whose comment it was. I'm complicated like that. So congratulations Theresa! Please email me your address and I will have your book shipped to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started a second job at a local greenhouse. So far I really enjoy it, and think I will continue to. If I have to be away from my kids I might as well be at a place where I am getting a work out, a tan and dirty all at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob and I are starting a diet. You'll recall that I recently lost quite a few pounds (almost 30). Well several of them (OK, more than several) found me again, hence the diet. We are also going to start working out together. Ugh. I am hoping that having this be a joint effort will stave off any laziness that seems to swiftly descend when I mention the E word. Did I say ugh yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Valentine's Day came and went. Jacob and I did the usual: nothing. I love that about him, and I am being totally serious. I realized about half way through the morning that I had forgotten to get the kids anything so Keegan got a piece of chocolate and I dug a toy out of the very bottom of the toy box that Sophie had forgotten about and regave it to her. She was thrilled, named it Valentine Bear and Mom dodged a bullet. Whew. In my free time I compose my Mother of the Year speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob starts his new position in the schools soon. This means he works days and is off on the weekends, so we are pretty pumped about that. Not to mention I think he'll be pretty fabulous there, though I may be a bit biased. I know for sure he'll be the best looking resource officer of all time, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the above paragraph we have been getting the kids switched over to a day shift schedule. They did surprising well, but Jacob and I are struggling. When you are used to staying up until 1:oo, going to bed at 10:00 seems more than a bit early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weaning. We are working hard on it. I bet within the week we'll be done. D.O.N.E.  I've got a funny story about this, remind me to tell it later, because it's almost my new bedtime and I've gotta go get ready to lay in bed wide awake for several hours. Just kidding. Kind of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5118699112655615285?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5118699112655615285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5118699112655615285&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5118699112655615285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5118699112655615285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/02/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8745827538739470262</id><published>2009-02-11T17:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T17:37:00.343-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The first giveaway of the map book was</title><content type='html'>delayed by Pappaw's death.  I have not forgotten it and I will be doing that soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8745827538739470262?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8745827538739470262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8745827538739470262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8745827538739470262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8745827538739470262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/02/first-giveaway-of-map-book-was.html' title='The first giveaway of the map book was'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-785296367467962887</id><published>2009-02-11T17:24:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T17:35:24.602-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pappaw'/><title type='text'>My Pappaw died last week</title><content type='html'>and it was a blessing.  The past few months his health has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;deteriorated&lt;/span&gt; to the point that he was miserable.  And hurting.   And scared.  And unable to feed himself.  Or walk.  Or go to the bathroom.  He no longer knew anyone and he would not have wanted to live that way.  Who would?  Now he's got a perfect body and mind.   He's in heaven and I have the assurance of being with him someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps some day I'll blog about him more.   About the awesome, funny, things he did.  The jokes he played, the songs he sang, the joy he brought to our lives.   But for now, that's all I will say about it....except that he was the BEST &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pappaw&lt;/span&gt; ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is busy.  I've started my new job at the greenhouse and I think I'm really going to enjoy it.  The kids are getting to be more fun every day and they are always doing something that amuses me.  I'm looking forward to the summer time fun that I know we will have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-785296367467962887?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/785296367467962887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=785296367467962887&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/785296367467962887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/785296367467962887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-pappaw-died-last-week.html' title='My Pappaw died last week'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-2450940413103240261</id><published>2009-02-01T23:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T23:46:34.139-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Sometimes you just have to roll with it, or shove it down a hole.</title><content type='html'>The other day as I was reveling in my electrically heated home Sophie asked for an apple. Sophie likes apples. I like her to eat something besides sausage and gum, so I said yes. And since I was in such a whimsical mood I let her walk about the house eating it. Such was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;whimsy&lt;/span&gt; that when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; took her apple to eat (he likes apples too, but not sausage) I let her get another one. Stay with me here people, that's two apples rolling around the house. And then, mysteriously, there was just one. Sophie had misplaced her apple. As she and I were searching for it, her in panic and me resigned to finding the dumb thing so she would calm down, I heard a noise. "Creak, Thud, thump, thud, thump, thud, thump, creak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately knew what had happened to Sophie's apple. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, who relishes putting stuff where it doesn't belong, had shoved the apples down the cat door into the basement where they thud, thumped their way down the stairs. So now there were no apples, unless you count in the basement where there now resides two apples, albeit covered in cat litter and basement funk. Sophie was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;distraught&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; was pleased as punch because NOT ONLY did he get to shove something down the hole, but he ALSO got to irritate Sophie. It was a red letter day for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, both his favorite activities combined into one glorious occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just glad the apples didn't join the soccer ball, match box cars and shoe in the toilet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-2450940413103240261?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/2450940413103240261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=2450940413103240261&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2450940413103240261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/2450940413103240261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/02/sometimes-you-just-have-to-roll-with-it.html' title='Sometimes you just have to roll with it, or shove it down a hole.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-355951826379957564</id><published>2009-02-01T23:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T23:29:14.988-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Contest'/><title type='text'>A Parenting 101 First....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://g.christianbook.com/g/slideshow/3/360224/main/360224_1_ftc_dp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 494px;" src="http://g.christianbook.com/g/slideshow/3/360224/main/360224_1_ftc_dp.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to my first official blog giveaway! Just because I felt like it, that's why! I will soon be ordering the Rose Book of Bible Charts, Maps and Time Lines. I promise that it is a REALLY cool book. You can check it out &lt;a href="http://www.christianbook.com/Christian/Books/product?item_no=360224#curr"&gt;here. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To enter just leave a comment about how  cute my kids are. Okay, just kidding, just leave a comment. I will randomly pick a number on Saturday and will order the winner a copy with mine. Just like that, you could be a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Game on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-355951826379957564?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/355951826379957564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=355951826379957564&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/355951826379957564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/355951826379957564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/02/parenting-101-first.html' title='A Parenting 101 First....'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7702947475525446940</id><published>2009-01-31T20:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T21:30:55.603-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Hang on to your hats... this is gonna get lengthy.</title><content type='html'>I've got so much go catch up on here that I seriously had a list entitled: Blog this stuff. Then Sophie destroyed it. Now I'm just winging it. So we'll start with Monday and work through the week. Like a top twenty countdown. In fact, we'll just do it like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Monday. Jacob left for school Sunday night. We knew there was a big storm predicted so I had already packed up the kids clothes and such and went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Momma's&lt;/span&gt; house. No one wants to be snowed in with two toddlers and no help. At least I don't, anyway. I left derby practice early that night when we heard it start sleet. It didn't take long for the roads to ice over. Boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Lot's of ice here, kids. No school. Then the snow started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Now my memory gets fuzzy... we lost power somewhere in this time, and phone. The power was out at home longer than at moms. I am really a homebody by nature, and though I had a great time with Mom and was thankful for the light and heat, I was ready to go home. I finally went home on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Wednesday night. Sophie had played in the snow and all was well, and then when she was walking up the stairs she tripped and hurt her foot. She really hurt it. Like wouldn't walk on it, no pressure on it, nothing. She at first would just collapse when you put her down, then eventually she resorted to this pitiful side hobble. When she woke up from her nap and was still hurting I took her to the...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 Emergency Room. X-Rays showed she hadn't broken anything, and really I was surprised. But, I'm glad I took her anyway. I would've felt bad if I had waited and it was broken. Anyway, back at home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 Um... Jacob just told me that it was Thursday night when she went to the er. My bad. My days are a bit mixed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Home... No water. It seems that the power outages have affected the city water pumps and when the water tower pressure ran out, so did the water. Which apparently is the perfect time for the kids to have a...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Poop-a-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thon&lt;/span&gt;. Seriously. First &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; threw a basketball into the toilet, that had not been flushed yet, and now there was grossness all over the ball. Then Sophie decided to try to go &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;poopy&lt;/span&gt; in the potty, but she had already gone in her diaper, so there was poop on her potty chair, the adult potty and the smaller potty chair that goes on the adult potty. Not to mention her hands, legs and clothes. No water to help clean. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Poison Control. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; got into my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;humidifier&lt;/span&gt; and ate some of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Vapo&lt;/span&gt; Steam that goes into it. Lot's of milk later he is good to go and I am really ready for Jacob to come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Friday was Mom's shoulder surgery. She is currently in massive amounts of pain. Please pray for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Jacob was supposed to be home around 7:30 on Friday. We figured that with time for slow going due to snow. What we didn't count on was the massive car accident that held up traffic on the highway for hours so he didn't get home until 9:30, just in time to tuck the kids in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Jacob has to leave tomorrow. Boo. Sophie really had a hard time with him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;gone&lt;/span&gt; his week. I honestly didn't expect her to care much, but she was really upset that he was gone. The first thing she asked him on the phone Monday night was if he was going to come home now because she missed him. It made both Jacob and I cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Since she missed him so much she is going to go with me on Thursday night to see him. There is a banquet for the officers and his graduation is Friday and she'll go with me. She was going to stay with a sitter, but now just K-man will. I think she will manage the long car ride, the long ceremony and the dinner. I hope so anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Jacob hopefully will start his job in the schools on the 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. Day shift, here we come. He really thinks he will like it a lot, he is enjoying the training even though there is a LOT of work that goes with it. I think he will be a wonderful DARE officer and am excited to see him start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You'll have to forgive me for the lack of comments on  your blogs lately. I've not even begun to catch up, I've just been busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. But not busy with work. With school being out for so long I am seriously not sure how my semester is going to go, I've already missed several meetings with several schools. Add that to a second job I'll start soon and you've got an interesting spring lined up. When I say interesting here you can read busy. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Notice I skipped a few numbers. I'm totally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7702947475525446940?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7702947475525446940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7702947475525446940&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7702947475525446940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7702947475525446940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/hang-on-to-your-hats-this-is-gonna-get.html' title='Hang on to your hats... this is gonna get lengthy.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3572486936311444932</id><published>2009-01-25T14:12:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T14:32:02.181-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Misc'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>What's Going On...</title><content type='html'>Sophie and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; are playing their new favorite game where they take off all the couch cushions and romp around like banshees. It's my favorite game of theirs to watch, they have so much fun and there is so little clean up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacob is packing for a work trip. He'll be gone two weeks (home for the weekend) to learn to be our city's D.A.R.E. officer. So he'll teach kids not to do drugs and I'll teach kids not to have sex. Are we a fun couple or what!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is peeling. His rash is already clearing up nicely, but is coming off almost like a sunburn. It's pretty gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isaac the dog is back at my mil's house in the country. He kept running away here. I think he was just used to having a big yard to run free in and he missed that. And it was irritating as all get out to have to get two babies out in the cold to go chase a dog. I think he's probably happier, and I don't have to worry about him getting hit by a car while I'm getting kids into car seats. Win-Win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might have a new job working at a local greenhouse in the spring and summer. It will be a big change but we can't go another summer without me working, and that's that. So I manned up and went out and got a job. Luckily, I think I'll like it a lot and I found it on the first day I went looking for one. Actually, it was only the second place I asked. That's an easy job hunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is cold and miserable. I miss the sun and the sun misses me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good friend of mine just found out she is pregnant. I'm so excited for her, and a little jealous. But just of the pregnant part, not the baby that follows being pregnant. But I just thought that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pregnancy&lt;/span&gt; was so cool, even though my body wasn't that great at it, apparently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying hard not to get overly emotional about Jacob leaving, but I doubt that's going to happen. Emotions are my thing. I know once he leaves I'll be fine, I know I can function without him- it's all this waiting for him to go that makes me melancholy. Part of me wishes he would just leave already and get it over with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on that note I'm going to go be pathetic and mope for a while. Then a cup of tea and a few quiet minutes later I'll get over myself and have a good week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3572486936311444932?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3572486936311444932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3572486936311444932&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3572486936311444932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3572486936311444932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/whats-going-on.html' title='What&apos;s Going On...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3008939887833378571</id><published>2009-01-22T13:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T13:49:11.193-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>I've changed Keegan's nick name</title><content type='html'>From now on I'm calling him "my little bundle of insurance claims". He fussed all night and woke up looking like a giant red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;marshmallow&lt;/span&gt;. His face was so swollen and he has a rash from head to toe, which means, you guessed it, yet another trip to the doctor. I'm lucky I'm friends with my doctor because anyone else would seriously be thinking I was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Muchausen's&lt;/span&gt; mom by now. Also it's not as embarrassing to drag your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unshowered&lt;/span&gt; body in there to see him with your pancake crusted kid in tow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The results? Unknown. He does not think it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fifths&lt;/span&gt; disease, but thinks it's more like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Roseola&lt;/span&gt;. Or Strep. Maybe strep, though the hard fought culture came back negative. He thinks the culture may have been messed up by the fact that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; wouldn't come up for air for most of the appointment and the milk may have thrown the results off. So there you have it, or rather, he has it... whatever it may be. He's back on antibiotics to cover yet another ear infection and the strep, just in case it IS strep. This kid, I tell you, just look at him funny and he'll get sick. One day his immune system is going to be awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, if there is a plus side to your kid being sick, it got me out of my girl parts doctor visit today. Nothing like not having showered to get you to cancel that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;particular&lt;/span&gt; appointment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3008939887833378571?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3008939887833378571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3008939887833378571&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3008939887833378571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3008939887833378571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/ive-changed-keegans-nick-name.html' title='I&apos;ve changed Keegan&apos;s nick name'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5900498837186204846</id><published>2009-01-15T17:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T17:50:24.673-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Siblings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>The Pesky Little Brother Emerges</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Sophie asked if she could watch a movie and I said sure. As she is hustling to the VCR to put in Barney, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; was hustling too. To Sophie's favorite chair. Where he promptly sat down and looked at Sophie like "Ha! Beat you to it didn't I? What are you going to do about it? If you push me out of the way you get it trouble? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mwahahahahaha&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so maybe the evil laugh was a stretch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie was displeased to say the least. She first imperiously commanded that he remove himself. He just laughed.  Then he grunted which I took to mean "Go ahead, make my day." Then she tried to throw her weight around and squeeze herself in next to him. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;, who is already a pretty brawny kid, remained immobile, impervious to her shoving. Finally Sophie dragged over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; chair and he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; got up and sat down in it leaving Sophie's chair free for the taking. I think this may have been his evil plan all along, getting Sophie to bring him his chair. Maybe I wasn't too far off on the evil laugh after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5900498837186204846?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5900498837186204846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5900498837186204846&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5900498837186204846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5900498837186204846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/pesky-little-brother-emerges.html' title='The Pesky Little Brother Emerges'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-5720600189148307070</id><published>2009-01-14T10:47:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T11:17:34.229-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>How God is rocking my socks</title><content type='html'>It just happens that I started two new Bible studies and a Book Club this week. Jacob and I are working on one together, our church ladies started one on Esther and the book is Crazy Love by Francis Chan (check out the club &lt;a href="http://theprodigaljon.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.). I'm not gonna lie... it was time to start something. It seems with all the craziness going on the last few months that my spiritual life had become, dare I say it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stagnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seems to be the word that brings out a lot of judgement in people. Like "oh my gosh, how dare you go through a time where you don't feel close to God. I am questioning how saved you are now. How could this have happened if you were living like you should live?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for anyone who is thinking that, I just took care of your comment for you. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In truth, behind the judgement there are small slivers of truth. It seems hard to comprehend how you can have a season where you don't feel close to God. I mean, come on, how is that physically possible. I mean, he's RIGHT THERE. I get that. I've not doubted his presence. It just seemed hard to communicate, like we couldn't be totally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt; because my heart had this wall around it, and I wasn't sure what it was or how to tear it down. I still don't know what it was, but I can finally feel it coming down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In truth I think the sudden immersion in all these books has helped. They cause me to be introspective, something I rarely take time to do on my own. Who has time to be introspective, really? But in the hub-bub and chaos it's important to do, I think I had forgotten that. Also, just the new information and challenges to think outside of the box are awesome. I mean, put this in your heart a minute:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not being able to fully understand God is frustrating, but it us ridiculous for us to think we have the right to limit God to something we are capable of comprehending. What a stunted, insignificant God that would be! If my mind is the size of a soda can and God is the size of all the oceans, it would be stupid for me to say He is only the small amount of water I can scoop into my little can. God is so much bigger, so beyond our time encased, air/food/sleep-dependant lives."&lt;br /&gt;-Francis Chan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or this one totally rocked both Jacob and I. We actually read it out loud over and over, just to make sure it sank in:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you have children, never lose sight of the fact that God gave them to you. Our children are a gift from God and one day we must give an account to Him for the way we raised them. For the Christian, family life isn't a detour, it an important part of our discipleship."- Billy Graham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a hard-core, pee my pants moment. One day we must give an account to HIM. But I love how it's the way we raised them, and not for the choices they make. I love that distinction, the recognition that we can only do so much before they make their own choices. That we are responsible to them, but not for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much is swirling around in my soda can head right now that is so God-centered that it's hard to organize it all. My brain isn't a compartmental brain, it's a gumbo. It all goes together and mixes around and can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; anything from anything else, which is why I cry at commercials. But it's also making this week very interesting. Mixing together the challenge of finding God in Esther, with leaving a legacy for my children and the challenge to recognize God for the supreme awesomeness that he is, well, I'm just feeling those walls of questionable &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;consistency&lt;/span&gt; crumble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am totally. down. with. that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-5720600189148307070?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/5720600189148307070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=5720600189148307070&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5720600189148307070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/5720600189148307070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/how-god-is-rocking-my-socks.html' title='How God is rocking my socks'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6231730610262088926</id><published>2009-01-12T23:28:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T23:34:01.007-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Well, that's one way to look at it</title><content type='html'>Sophie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accompanied&lt;/span&gt;  me to the doctor this morning (yes, yet another doctor appointment). We were looking though an old National Geographic so I could show the pictures to Sophie. We saw birds, a monkey, even a volcano. We talked about mountains and snow, things were going well, then I turned the page to a beautiful, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;aerial&lt;/span&gt; scene of some tropical islands. The water was deep blue, the islands were dark green slashes of land across a seemingly endless sea. I was getting ready to say how beautiful it was when Sophie screamed "LOOK MOM! POOP. POOP PICTURE!!!" And once I looked again, through my hysterical laughter, I could see that yes, indeed, it looked like poop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having kids is a blast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6231730610262088926?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6231730610262088926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6231730610262088926&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6231730610262088926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6231730610262088926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/well-thats-one-way-to-look-at-it.html' title='Well, that&apos;s one way to look at it'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-3344047344039522020</id><published>2009-01-10T15:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T15:22:51.452-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Formula of the Day</title><content type='html'>Derby Gear + Christian Youth Basketball Game + No Shower = Weird Looks x Awkwardness^2&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-3344047344039522020?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/3344047344039522020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=3344047344039522020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3344047344039522020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/3344047344039522020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/formula-of-day.html' title='The Formula of the Day'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-857520585248351064</id><published>2009-01-06T12:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T12:40:48.514-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>K-Man.... Asthma Assassin</title><content type='html'>Keegan went to the doctor yesterday. So did I, got some medicine, feeling much better already. But this is about the K-Man. The doctor says the Keegan has a form of asthma called Reactive Airway Disorder, which is kind of like regular asthma in that he has attacks, but not all the time. He only has attacks in response to illness rather than envioronmental factors. Basicly if he gets a cold he is at risk for an asthma attack. He could just have a runny nose and then BAM... the asthma assassin strikes. The upside is that he doesn't have to have treatments all the time, so he is done with the nebulizer. We still have to keep one close for when he gets sick, but I'm okay with that. He seems to be feeling better for now, and is still on his antibiotics so that he keeps going in that direction. Better is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sophie is just glad to have her playmate back. She is loving that he can walk around now... much more productive play in her mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-857520585248351064?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/857520585248351064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=857520585248351064&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/857520585248351064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/857520585248351064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/k-man-asthma-assassin.html' title='K-Man.... Asthma Assassin'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-7536459075820149606</id><published>2009-01-04T11:08:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T13:05:03.732-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Medical'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Prayers for Keegan.... Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has never been much like his sister, even health-wise. Sophie is rarely sick whereas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; has always been a bit more.... delicate. So naturally when we all got the same cold last week, Sophie and Jacob got over it first, I still have it and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Keegan's&lt;/span&gt; turned into something worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a trip to the er last night because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; wasn't breathing correctly we found out he has asthma, bronchitis and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pneumonia&lt;/span&gt; in his right lung. The doctor allowed us to return home since Momma has a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;nebulizer&lt;/span&gt; we could use to give him breathing treatments at home, otherwise we would have landed right back in the hospital. I'm glad Mom went with me because we had to give him two treatments before we could even leave the hospital and number one: I had no idea what I was doing and number two: for a delicate little thing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; is STRONG and number three: it was good to have the moral support, because it's never easy to hold down your screaming child and force him to do something he doesn't want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is on several medications and has to have breathing treatments every six hours around the clock. This is going to be difficult because the treatments really wire him up, and the last thing a tired Momma wants at 1:&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;oo&lt;/span&gt; in the morning is a jazzed up kid. Today his breathing already seems much less burdened so I am certain the treatments are working, and I have found that if I just nurse him and hold the mask near his face he has no choice but to inhale the medicine, so that works pretty well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please pray that my happy boy can get to feeling better soon. And if you don't mind throw a few in for me to feel better as well so that I can better care for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-7536459075820149606?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/7536459075820149606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=7536459075820149606&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7536459075820149606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/7536459075820149606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/prayers-for-keegan-again.html' title='Prayers for Keegan.... Again'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-108844909550837659</id><published>2009-01-03T15:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T16:08:53.210-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>Hives, Holiday and Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>I hope that you all have had a restful holiday season. I don't have any Christmas pictures to post but I have a good reason, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with the dog. Our poor Isaac needs a buddy since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bosley&lt;/span&gt; ran away. I had gone to the humane society on the 23rd to look at a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;shar&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pei&lt;/span&gt; that they had there. He was, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;umm&lt;/span&gt;... active. That's a nice way to put it. Not to be put off, I then looked at a pointer mix. He was.... active. Then I looked at what looked to be a massive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;shih&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tzu&lt;/span&gt;. He looked like he had been on enhancement drugs, which is really just a nice way to say he looked like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;shih&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tzu&lt;/span&gt; on massive amounts of steroids. If I had brought him home his name would have been Barry "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Asterisk&lt;/span&gt;" Bonds. Let's just say that grooming was going to be an issue, so I passed, though he was fun. Then I looked at a beagle mix named Grant. Grant was a good dog. He was laid back, soft and perhaps most important, house trained. So Grant came home with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I'm getting to why I don't have Christmas pictures. Just stay with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got Grant home and started to settle in when I noticed that Sophie had a big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;welty&lt;/span&gt; thing on her face. Then I noticed that my face itched. And it got worse, and worse, and worse. Then the swelling started. I wish we had taken a picture but we didn't. My face was like a big, red marshmallow with little slits for eyes. Sophie's wasn't so bad, but she did have several welts on her face. So obviously something with the dog isn't jiving with me and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Sos&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;ter&lt;/span&gt;. I don't know what it was, I am not allergic to dogs, except apparently Grant. So Grant went back at the shelter on the 24&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. I am sure he will be adopted soon, he is a great dog for someone else, just not for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, back at home, I am sitting there strung out on mega-steroids and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;antihistamines&lt;/span&gt;. Huge amounts. It reduced the swelling and my brain function in equal parts. I woke up on Christmas Eve, the day we did our Christmas with the kids, totally and completely stoned out of my mind. My emotions were so shut down that I couldn't even get excited. But on we went, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; in Jacob's lap and Sophie playing Santa on the floor. I was on the floor taking pictures, trying to get into the Christmas spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice I said I took pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't look at these pictures until later when I got to Mom's house. I had borrowed her camera because the batteries on mine were dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how I said that Jacob was sitting with K-man in his lap. Well he was wearing his bathrobe. And every picture I took had Jacob in it, at least part of him. With his legs spread open and his underwear showing. In Every. Single. Picture. It was like a merry porno Christmas. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By that evening the drugs were wearing off and the rest of the Christmas I was more human. Christmas day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt; broke out in a funky rash, and then for the next week or so was consumed by screeching, grouchy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;inconsolable&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Keegan&lt;/span&gt;. He had some good patches in there, but for the most part was just a clingy mess. It turns out he had a reaction to his vaccinations. Merry Christmas. He slept through every gift exchange though, so while he didn't get to open many presents on his own, at least he wasn't screaming while everyone else did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My s-i-l had her baby on Christmas Eve, congratulations Ruth! Mr. Tobin was 7 pounds and 3 ounces, 20 inches long and I am by far his favorite aunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids did lots of funny stuff the last few weeks, but this post is already forever long so I'll bust it all out in the next few days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-108844909550837659?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/108844909550837659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=108844909550837659&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/108844909550837659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/108844909550837659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2009/01/hives-holiday-and-happy-new-year.html' title='Hives, Holiday and Happy New Year'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4517420359212920587</id><published>2008-12-30T17:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T17:25:16.197-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still around...</title><content type='html'>but really, I'm having a great time just hanging with the fam right now. I'll have lots to update in a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4517420359212920587?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4517420359212920587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4517420359212920587&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4517420359212920587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4517420359212920587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-still-around.html' title='I&apos;m still around...'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4342858752565662208</id><published>2008-12-21T21:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T21:48:13.324-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I love my husband.</title><content type='html'>There was music and dancing and laughter. I came home feeling relaxed and refreshed. We had a wonderful time that we spent on each other, we tried to not even talk about the kids, or work, or the world outside of us. How lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I want for Christmas next year too. And my birthday. And our anniversary. And Earth Day, Flag Day and Arbor Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4342858752565662208?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4342858752565662208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4342858752565662208&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4342858752565662208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4342858752565662208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-love-my-husband.html' title='I love my husband.'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6904306434367811121</id><published>2008-12-20T12:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T12:07:17.824-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><title type='text'>Wisked Away</title><content type='html'>My husband is a notoriously bad gift giver. However, this year he seems to have picked a winner. I am about to be spirited away on a romantic weekend. I don't know the details, but my bags are packed and I'm ready to go. He's off dropping off the kids, dog and a few other last minute details then we are going. Going where? I don't know. Am I ready? You better believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry, merry, merry Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6904306434367811121?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6904306434367811121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6904306434367811121&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6904306434367811121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6904306434367811121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/wisked-away.html' title='Wisked Away'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-8628885826964465931</id><published>2008-12-17T22:50:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T08:00:55.852-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lillie Elizabeth</title><content type='html'>Ashlie, a very sweet girl I used to work with, had her baby yesterday. Lillie was not supposed to be born for about 8-9 more weeks. She is currently in our local &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;NICU&lt;/span&gt; fighting off a lung infection that she has already developed. She weighs just a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tidge&lt;/span&gt; over 3 pounds, which is actually a relief as we were expecting a much smaller baby. God has already been so good in giving her as much time as she had inside her momma, Ashlie did NOT have a simple pregnancy in any way, shape or form. I would ask that you simply stop what you are doing and pray for Lillie. Pray for her doctors, pray for her family, pray for her brain, her lungs, her eyes, her life. Pray for her parents, Zach and Ashlie. Pray now, pray often. Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-8628885826964465931?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/8628885826964465931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=8628885826964465931&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8628885826964465931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/8628885826964465931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/lillie-elizabeth.html' title='Lillie Elizabeth'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-341122198390282459</id><published>2008-12-17T22:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T22:50:05.692-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Big Dumb Adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Being a Mom'/><title type='text'>Dysfunction</title><content type='html'>That would be the title for my day. It started off with a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kiwanis&lt;/span&gt; meeting I attended at crack o' dawn thirty to do a gimme money pitch for work. Two people showed up. Stupid weather. Then it was off to court for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CASA&lt;/span&gt;, where after an hour and a half of waiting I find out my case was rescheduled. Then after I got home I made two messes, dropped a basket of folded clothes, and poked myself in the eye WITH THE VACUUM. Yeah. The in-between parts of my day were spent at the hospital visiting a friend who just had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-mature baby (more on that in a minute) and going to church. My day just ended with a bang of water, dumped into Sophie's crib from her last minute "wanna drink" to stave off bed time. New pajamas, new sheets, stuffed animals in the dryer, the whole works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you just have to laugh, and today has been one of those days. It's been quite comical, actually. Other than my eye hurts, even still. I am such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;doof&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-341122198390282459?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/341122198390282459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=341122198390282459&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/341122198390282459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/341122198390282459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/dysfunction.html' title='Dysfunction'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6805873232495854438</id><published>2008-12-15T13:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T13:58:00.314-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><title type='text'>A Random Filler Post</title><content type='html'>I've seen this on several blogs and was feeling a little less than creative today, so here it is, the low down on Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. He's sitting in front of the TV, what is on the screen? Football. Soccer. House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You're out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get on his salad? Ranch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What's one food he doesn't like? Squash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You go out to dinner. What does he order? Philly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cheese Steak&lt;/span&gt; Sandwich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Where did he go to high school? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Boonville&lt;/span&gt;, IN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What size shoe does he wear? 10-11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be? Guns. Video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What is his favorite type of sandwich? See number 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What would he eat every day if he could? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;... I'm going to say polish sausage with cheese, but feel free to correct me, honey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What is his favorite cereal? I'd say it's a tie between Life, Fruity Pebbles and Lucky Charms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What would he never wear? Pink. I've tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What is his favorite sports team? Duke Basketball, Colts Football&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Who did he vote for? McCain/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Who is his best friend? I am. But he runs around with several different guys, for which I am grateful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn't do? Wake him up by singing "rise and shine and give God the glory". He hates that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. How many states has he lived in? That would be a big 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. What is his heritage? Irish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. You bake him a cake for his birthday; what would it be? Strawberry with cream cheese icing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Did he play sports in high school? Soccer and track. But he just ran track to look at the girls in spandex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What could he spend hours doing? Hunting, Fishing, Gaming. Notice cleaning the house was nowhere on this list. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. What's something cool about him? He is a direct &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;descendant&lt;/span&gt; of William Wallace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just kidding. I mean, I guess he could be, but I don't think he is. Really I like that he isn't afraid to hang out with me and my girlfriends. He has no issue being the only guy there, and loves my friends as much as I do. That's nice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6805873232495854438?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6805873232495854438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6805873232495854438&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6805873232495854438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6805873232495854438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/random-filler-post.html' title='A Random Filler Post'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-1640810549983911434</id><published>2008-12-14T14:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T14:54:00.094-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Sometimes I wonder....</title><content type='html'>how much dog food Keegan consumes in a week? He is obsessed with it. It's not like it stays out all the time either... he hunts it down. Wherever the dog may have dropped some Keegan finds it. Under the couch? No problem. Behind the chair? No sweat. He will find it and promptly try to eat it. I've practically given up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if milkbones are cheaper than goldfish?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-1640810549983911434?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/1640810549983911434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=1640810549983911434&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1640810549983911434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/1640810549983911434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes-i-wonder.html' title='Sometimes I wonder....'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-6213287471967235512</id><published>2008-12-13T21:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T21:47:31.597-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sophie'/><title type='text'>A note from the mooman of the house</title><content type='html'>I usually pray with Sophie at bedtime every night, but tonight I wanted to see what she would do on her own. Here is what she said, just about word for word:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dod, thanks for de earf and da moon and da stars. You made the sun and da clouds. Dod made da animals and da plants. Dod made man like Daddy and mooman like Momma and Dod made Hosie and Teegan. Thank you for this food. Amen. Help Hosie sleep dood. In Desus name we pway, Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess she has been taking the Bible stories at bedtime to heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-6213287471967235512?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/6213287471967235512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=6213287471967235512&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6213287471967235512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/6213287471967235512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/note-from-mooman-of-house.html' title='A note from the mooman of the house'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4781616165703570092</id><published>2008-12-10T23:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T23:52:28.675-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MOm'/><title type='text'>Why I Do What I Do</title><content type='html'>I don't get paid much per year for my job. It causes quite a bit of stress. It takes me away from my family at weird hours. But there are way more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pluses&lt;/span&gt; than minuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus-- I get to directly try to change my community for the better.&lt;br /&gt;Plus-- I get to be at home way more than I used to.&lt;br /&gt;Plus-- I have relative control over my hours. Mostly.&lt;br /&gt;Plus-- I don't have an office to report to for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;Plus-- I get to work with &lt;strong&gt;awesome&lt;/strong&gt; teens all day who I have a GREAT time with.&lt;br /&gt;Plus-- Occasionally I get a email like the one I go today, which contained this paragraph among other fun stuff, including the proud revelation that she was accepted to her college of choice:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I don't know if I ever said it, but thanks for letting me be a part of Peers, Andi.  It was so rewarding to get as much out of it as I gave back.  It was worth the amount of time I put into it because I loved doing it.  I didn't think it was actually in me to a leader like that, but you helped me see that I could be, and it turned out to be a huge success, so thank you :)  There's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; that I learned from Peers without already practicing a 'role model' lifestyle, and I can't thank you enough for letting me be involved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THAT, kids, is why I do what I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the greatest. job. EVER.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4781616165703570092?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4781616165703570092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4781616165703570092&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4781616165703570092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4781616165703570092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-i-do-what-i-do.html' title='Why I Do What I Do'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7966096571887794704.post-4748109852029904246</id><published>2008-12-10T16:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T16:13:17.189-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Keegan'/><title type='text'>Did you see what my boy is doing?</title><content type='html'>Check this out- Keegan decided to celebrate big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lottakids1961.blogspot.com/2008/12/birthday-milestone.html"&gt;http://lottakids1961.blogspot.com/2008/12/birthday-milestone.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7966096571887794704-4748109852029904246?l=mothering101.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/feeds/4748109852029904246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7966096571887794704&amp;postID=4748109852029904246&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4748109852029904246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7966096571887794704/posts/default/4748109852029904246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mothering101.blogspot.com/2008/12/did-you-see-what-my-boy-is-doing.html' title='Did you see what my boy is doing?'/><author><name>Andi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04947261666457016420</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_eyyTI4KSfGw/TIkDVyma3xI/AAAAAAAABYI/igGdiZ1uLEI/S220/100_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
