tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-105458582024-03-13T06:11:57.118-07:00Caron CrewTaylor and Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11272161309874330513noreply@blogger.comBlogger242125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-7772861607422677502010-11-10T16:57:00.000-08:002010-11-10T16:57:52.584-08:00Not Wanting to Brag....but.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I vacillate between what a blog is for...whether it's for my own family's memories, or for information to share with others. So stupid, but I really deliberated about this one. Should I share something awesome, or should I just keep quiet. I finally decided that my blog is essentially for my memories, so I'll do what I want to do dang it!!! But as usual, I digress. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
Last week, a friend commented to me about Noah being in the school newsletter for a perfect test score. I looked at her with curiosity because I had absolutely NO idea what she was talking about. She told me that Noah was one of a few people who got a perfect score on the end of last year's CRT tests. What?! Okay, I know Noah doesn't share a lot about school with me, but I at least thought he'd let me know about this! (I'm guessing this is a mini version of SAT's?) Actually, he ended up being only one of 2 people in the entire school!<br />
<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TNqqxIf5vBI/AAAAAAAAFRM/ezQwNODMBPU/s1600/Perfect+Score+CRT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TNqqxIf5vBI/AAAAAAAAFRM/ezQwNODMBPU/s320/Perfect+Score+CRT.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm telling you, I couldn't be more proud. Especially since good test taking abilities are DEFINITELY not hereditary in this family.<br />
<br />
</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-56227927499262896322010-11-01T15:01:00.000-07:002010-11-03T14:16:21.541-07:00Crazy Weather<div style="text-align: center;">If there's one thing I know about Vegas, it's that Fall is the quickest season of all. One second it's hot, the next you're needing a jacket. This year has been no exception. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zxfI83WI/AAAAAAAAFOg/J51JqhTak7Q/s1600/October+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zxfI83WI/AAAAAAAAFOg/J51JqhTak7Q/s320/October+(9).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zxfI83WI/AAAAAAAAFOg/J51JqhTak7Q/s1600/October+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Well into October, it was still sunny & warm. Warm enough that Ben decided he wanted to whip out his swimsuit & run through the sprinklers.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8z4RuqHFI/AAAAAAAAFOk/ZjH_Cw5nNz0/s1600/October+(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8z4RuqHFI/AAAAAAAAFOk/ZjH_Cw5nNz0/s320/October+(15).JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8z4RuqHFI/AAAAAAAAFOk/ZjH_Cw5nNz0/s1600/October+(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Just a few days later, we started to get a lot of rain. Jordan & Noah decided they wanted to walk over to McDonald's one afternoon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8z4RuqHFI/AAAAAAAAFOk/ZjH_Cw5nNz0/s1600/October+(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zl5nOaqI/AAAAAAAAFOc/I5SnMkwmecc/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zl5nOaqI/AAAAAAAAFOc/I5SnMkwmecc/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zl5nOaqI/AAAAAAAAFOc/I5SnMkwmecc/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Not long after they left, it began to pour. The lightning was everywhere. The worrier mom in me decided I needed to go out to find them. However, once they saw me they ran in the opposite direction. They wanted to get as soaked as humanly possible I guess. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8y7l4pubI/AAAAAAAAFOI/xKwTfjJyKwk/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8y7l4pubI/AAAAAAAAFOI/xKwTfjJyKwk/s320/008.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8y7l4pubI/AAAAAAAAFOI/xKwTfjJyKwk/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>It worked.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8y7l4pubI/AAAAAAAAFOI/xKwTfjJyKwk/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zbWPpOGI/AAAAAAAAFOY/cn11RCKhTZQ/s1600/002+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zbWPpOGI/AAAAAAAAFOY/cn11RCKhTZQ/s320/002+(2).JPG" width="320" /></a>Ben loves it when it rains. When it started to really pour, he told me he needed to go get something. When he came downstairs, he had our gun earmuffs on. He told me the sound of the rain hitting the patio cover was too loud.</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TM8zbWPpOGI/AAAAAAAAFOY/cn11RCKhTZQ/s1600/002+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-88889619585779708492010-10-20T11:00:00.000-07:002010-10-20T11:00:16.891-07:00Birthday Boys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Taylor's father Bill & Noah share the same birthday, born October 2nd, exactly 50 years apart. My mom had family over for dinner after General Conference, so it was a perfect opportunity for a little cake! I find it so neat that Bill always makes an effort to be in town so the two of them can celebrate their birthday together. They have not missed a year yet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8kS57cfsI/AAAAAAAAFKE/rAxZkaOBLB8/s1600/October+(36).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8kS57cfsI/AAAAAAAAFKE/rAxZkaOBLB8/s320/October+(36).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The birthday boys.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8kJYpvFSI/AAAAAAAAFKA/1jfC3uutS0s/s1600/October+(22).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8kJYpvFSI/AAAAAAAAFKA/1jfC3uutS0s/s320/October+(22).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Noah's love for football inspired this cake.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jVa4sFwI/AAAAAAAAFJg/ZadJMtlBrK8/s1600/October+(25).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jVa4sFwI/AAAAAAAAFJg/ZadJMtlBrK8/s320/October+(25).JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">Who knows what they were talking about, but I'm almost certain it was business related.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jdcey8mI/AAAAAAAAFJk/bqy1pv36c_M/s1600/October+(33).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jdcey8mI/AAAAAAAAFJk/bqy1pv36c_M/s320/October+(33).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The first time, and probably the last, I've ever seen them with their arms around each other & a smile.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jnMABaxI/AAAAAAAAFJo/ILeRoMfT4d4/s1600/October+(35).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jnMABaxI/AAAAAAAAFJo/ILeRoMfT4d4/s320/October+(35).JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Ben made a "mini-cake" to go along with the birthday cake.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jvKmijdI/AAAAAAAAFJs/19G3EsMM6wA/s1600/October+(29).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8jvKmijdI/AAAAAAAAFJs/19G3EsMM6wA/s320/October+(29).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> My brother in-law Jared was in town from Idaho, so we were excited to have him come & hang out with us. Also, my grandpa was feeling well enough to come over for a while too. </div><div style="text-align: center;">So grateful for that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8qaJjZiyI/AAAAAAAAFKM/dPViM1F9_NU/s1600/October+(24).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8qaJjZiyI/AAAAAAAAFKM/dPViM1F9_NU/s320/October+(24).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8qje-iv_I/AAAAAAAAFKQ/Vk-bY9KJizM/s1600/October+(26).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8qje-iv_I/AAAAAAAAFKQ/Vk-bY9KJizM/s320/October+(26).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Michael washing dishes? I'm sure it's because he had Brandy over. Whenever a girlfriend/boyfriend comes for dinner, I know I won't be needing to do the dishes.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8siUXT00I/AAAAAAAAFKU/E6qkvIGCLew/s1600/September+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8siUXT00I/AAAAAAAAFKU/E6qkvIGCLew/s320/September+(2).JPG" width="172" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The following Sunday, Noah was ordained to be a Deacon, & was able to pass the Sacrament for the first time. I can't even express how amazing it felt to see two of my sons passing the Sacrament. I'm so proud of him.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I love you Noah!!!</div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-24489058245692126302010-10-20T10:10:00.000-07:002010-10-20T11:01:03.128-07:00Soccer Time!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8hTh_chlI/AAAAAAAAFJU/pYsCAeFQPsI/s1600/September+(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TL8hTh_chlI/AAAAAAAAFJU/pYsCAeFQPsI/s320/September+(10).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Primary Soccer has started again this year. Ben is SO excited to be playing, since he wasn't old enough last year to participate. Each week is a countdown until the next Thursday for him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLExX4ESZMI/AAAAAAAAFGk/pVso21uiJZc/s1600/September+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLExX4ESZMI/AAAAAAAAFGk/pVso21uiJZc/s320/September+(9).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Before the game, it's social time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLExVSiJRHI/AAAAAAAAFGg/8txZ2oLxhxA/s1600/September+(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLExVSiJRHI/AAAAAAAAFGg/8txZ2oLxhxA/s320/September+(15).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Once the game begins, he's in complete concentration mode with the tongue in the cheek.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLExkekJRvI/AAAAAAAAFGo/TnQR2WBcH28/s1600/September+(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLExkekJRvI/AAAAAAAAFGo/TnQR2WBcH28/s320/September+(13).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mom used to call soccer "bunch ball" because it always looks like a little bunch of kids moving up and down the field with the ball. I completely see why.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLEx75n7BbI/AAAAAAAAFGw/IVx8Ouq6e3U/s1600/September+(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TLEx75n7BbI/AAAAAAAAFGw/IVx8Ouq6e3U/s320/September+(16).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Before his first game, Noah told him he'd give him a dollar if he got a goal. This incentive isn't in effect anymore however, or he'd be completely broke.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm so proud of how well he's doing in soccer. He's always had a good kick, and he never stops running at home (& I mean never), so this obviously is the sport for him. </div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-66685618242991780292010-09-26T06:58:00.000-07:002010-09-26T10:51:52.443-07:00Roller Coaster DayA few weeks ago I had a day that took me on an emotional roller coaster. It was Stake Conference....a day I really look forward to. I've never been in a stake where I felt so excited to hear what the Stake President and the rest of the speakers have to talk about. A stake where I don't think of Stake Conference as a vacation from church kind of day. President Shields is always so direct, and he never beats around the bush about what we need to be doing. This year was no exception......but I digress (as usual).<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>I can always expect that on the day of Stake Conference, I will not see Taylor one iota. He ends up being at the Stake Center from morning till night, since we have three different sessions. I usually don't see him much anyways, but at least on this day I know he'll be able to sit with us and I'd have help with the kids. I look forward to this probably as much as I look forward to hearing from the stake president. Well, the morning started off fine, but then something kicked in with the kids because the fighting in the house got out of control. Constant mean comments, constant crying, constant yelling of "Jordan get out of my room", etc. Basically a lot of tension. I had to lecture a few times, send kids to their rooms a few times, make everyone kiss and make up a LOT of times. I'd had it! </div><div><br />
</div><div>Finally, it was time to head off to Stake Conference. When Taylor joined us in our row, he took one look at my face and knew something was wrong. He asked if I was okay and my eyes just welled up. Nope, I was officially done and wanted to just go home. I'm happy I didn't because the first talk was from President Peterson on Motherhood. I needed this. I needed to be reminded of the good things about being a mother. I needed the regular squeezes on my shoulders from Taylor letting me know he agreed with what was being said. I needed him leaning over to kiss my head and tell me he loved me. I was finally able to let it go and relax.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I ended up going VT'ing right after church. While I was gone, Taylor had a talk with the kids to find out what had happened. When I returned, I was greeted with this........</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TJ9KJqKAEEI/AAAAAAAAE7k/4YeMs7-MyTU/s1600/IMG_5242_edited-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TJ9KJqKAEEI/AAAAAAAAE7k/4YeMs7-MyTU/s400/IMG_5242_edited-1.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It even had a post-it note to decode the writing.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TJ9Njkp2MeI/AAAAAAAAE7s/BcoALuHqWDY/s1600/IMG_5243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TJ9Njkp2MeI/AAAAAAAAE7s/BcoALuHqWDY/s200/IMG_5243.JPG" width="159" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>The kids had thought all of this up by themselves. They all also wrote letters telling me that they were sorry for behaving badly that day. It was a pretty great way to come home. It was also a great way to end my day. </div><div>I absolutely love being a mother! I know that there will be days like this that kick me in the butt. I know there will be days I want to just quit and go get a job somewhere else. But that's just motherhood in a nutshell. An emotional roller coaster.....but I will always be grateful for it. I will always be grateful I am a mother and wouldn't change it for the world.</div><div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-47360305335081636022010-09-20T15:15:00.000-07:002010-09-20T15:15:42.981-07:00Ben's Comments LatelyI have noticed that Ben is at an age where the funniest things come out of his mouth. It makes it all the more hilarious when he doesn't know what he's saying.<div><br />
</div><div>A few examples:</div><div><br />
</div><div><b>1:</b></div><div>After capturing a preying mantis and drawing a picture of it for school, he asks me "Mom, why do praying mantis's have to pray all the time?"</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><b>2:</b></div><div>Hailey: "Mom, do you know how to do a backflip?"</div><div>Me: "No"</div><div>Ben: "Skinny girls can do backflips."</div><div>(Wow, thanks)</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div><b>3:</b></div><div>Hailey came home from spending the night at Momoo's with a huge zucchini. Today I'm in the car talking to Taylor on the phone......</div><div><br />
</div><div>Me: "Do you want me to make quiche or zucchini soup?"</div><div>Taylor: "Go ahead and make the zucchini soup."</div><div>Ben (from the backseat): "I don't want to have bikini soup!"</div><div><br />
</div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-19748758601870746302010-09-20T13:14:00.000-07:002010-09-20T13:14:19.370-07:00School Has Begun!<div style="text-align: justify;">Again, not exactly on time, but at least I'm motivated enough to get this blogged right?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, anyways, school has started for everyone this year in the Caron household. It's always so exciting the first day for everyone, but the novelty wears off by lunchtime. The older ones usually come home with a few stories, but generally the next day, they are ready for summer again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ben, on the other hand, was (and still is for that matter) SO excited about going to school. Not to mention it gives me 2 1/2 hours of peace and quiet. I can even watch whatever I want on tv without someone bugging me to change the channel or to put it on Xbox! Ahhh the life! </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was so bittersweet dropping Ben off for his first day in kindergarten. I was definitely excited for this day, but seeing that little man stand in line, smile beaming from ear to ear, really hit me. My babies are no longer babies!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2JZGpaPfI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/CuD2P5iVEFA/s1600/August+(65).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2JZGpaPfI/AAAAAAAAE4Y/CuD2P5iVEFA/s320/August+(65).JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The boys weren't up for much photography that morning, but they did humor me with one picture at least before we headed to the bus.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2LAGP881I/AAAAAAAAE5A/OjTv25MkfOg/s1600/August+(69).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2LAGP881I/AAAAAAAAE5A/OjTv25MkfOg/s320/August+(69).JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ben getting his backpack all together.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2JOXjY74I/AAAAAAAAE4Q/wGFHqRtyDRs/s1600/IMG_5192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2JOXjY74I/AAAAAAAAE4Q/wGFHqRtyDRs/s320/IMG_5192.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">On our way!</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2I6VD4doI/AAAAAAAAE4A/iaufmj_akAo/s1600/IMG_5201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2I6VD4doI/AAAAAAAAE4A/iaufmj_akAo/s320/IMG_5201.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2I6VD4doI/AAAAAAAAE4A/iaufmj_akAo/s1600/IMG_5201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Benjamin & Mommy</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2Kd5cnEKI/AAAAAAAAE4w/i9-fG2_RrRc/s1600/IMG_5207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2Kd5cnEKI/AAAAAAAAE4w/i9-fG2_RrRc/s320/IMG_5207.JPG" /></a></div><div style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2Kd5cnEKI/AAAAAAAAE4w/i9-fG2_RrRc/s1600/IMG_5207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Proudly showing off his very own folder given to him by his teacher. </div><div style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; text-align: center;">(I love the look in his eyes in this picture)</div><div style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black; text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-31275764580757852462010-09-12T18:52:00.000-07:002010-09-12T18:52:29.378-07:0015 Years<div style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">(Yes, this should have been posted several weeks ago, but a few things needing attention got in the way.)</span></b></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"></span></b></i>I cannot believe I've been married to my sweetie for 15 years already! Time has flown like you would never believe.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">At the beginning of this year, we had grand plans to go on a cruise. However, as time grew closer, reality set in and we realized it wasn't the smartest idea. Plus, two days after our anniversary, we'd be taking a big vacation to Colorado with all of my family! Who couldn't ask for anything more than being with your parents, brothers, sisters, and all of their kids for your anniversary?!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">So anyways.....I decided that I'd surprise Taylor by getting his ring re-engraved. When we got married, I had his ring engraved "Ti Amo 8/12/95" (Italian for I Love You). Ever since then, my family has teased me that I only loved him that day. Plus, the words have all but worn off. Such a great idea, but pulling it off would be another story. He NEVER takes his ring off! Guess this should please me, but for this situation, not so much. A few days before our anniversary it dawned on me to have him take it off so I could clean it. I do this randomly, so he didn't think anything off it. The best part of this idea is that when I do this, he usually forgets I have it in the cleaning solution and ends up without his ring on for a couple days. Brilliant!!! The next morning as we're saying goodbye, I keep thinking "don't ask for the ring, don't ask for the ring, don't ask for the ring." I was so nervous my plan wouldn't work. But, like every other time, he forgets and off to work he goes, professing his singleness all along the way without his ring! I knew that I couldn't hold off giving him his ring until our anniversary, so I surprised him that night with a ring that look just like the day we got married......except the engraving now read "Ti Amo Per Sempre 8/12/95" (I will always love you).</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TIPGD6mIalI/AAAAAAAAEcw/UNrSKhIsCHc/s1600/August+(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TIPGD6mIalI/AAAAAAAAEcw/UNrSKhIsCHc/s320/August+(11).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TIPGGIZpc0I/AAAAAAAAEc4/4FD0emN8rOQ/s1600/August+(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TIPGGIZpc0I/AAAAAAAAEc4/4FD0emN8rOQ/s320/August+(12).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Obviously he felt obligated to return the favor (also since I talk about getting my ring fixed incessantly). <br />
Here are the results.........</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TIPhV7oCGDI/AAAAAAAAEms/35pp1NnZDTI/s1600/a+(35).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TIPhV7oCGDI/AAAAAAAAEms/35pp1NnZDTI/s320/a+(35).JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2DJnHQwvI/AAAAAAAAE3w/jb4XgzSxp7Q/s1600/a+(36).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TI2DJnHQwvI/AAAAAAAAE3w/jb4XgzSxp7Q/s320/a+(36).JPG" /></a></div>It's not quite as difficult to get my ring since I take it off every night before I go to sleep. He did hatch up quite a plan including my older boys to get the ring to him while he was "at work". That night I was so surprised as he gave me the ring. I LOVE it way better this way! It has new prongs that I don't constantly worry about breaking further & not getting scratched with, as well as white gold that makes the diamond stand out more. He also had it engraved in Italian as well. Such a sweet husband!!!!</div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">HAPPY ANNIVERSARY HONEY!!!!</span></span></div><br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px !important; border-color: initial !important; border-left-width: 0px !important; border-right-width: 0px !important; border-style: initial !important; border-top-width: 0px !important;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-41820184406509665112010-08-01T11:55:00.000-07:002010-08-02T16:55:52.414-07:00Pink Lilies - aka Sweaty Men in Swimcaps<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Many have be asking for a video of Laurel Canyon Ward's men's performance at our North Las Vegas Stake's Pioneer Days. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;">(It frustrates me that when I post a video on here, it cuts the right side off. For this reason I have just posted a link to YouTube. If anyone knows how to adjust the settings for that, please let me know.)</span></i></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;">For those two days of festivities, it was so hot and humid outside, it made me really get a taste of what it must have felt like to be a pioneer, to be hot, sweaty and sticky<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> </span>constantly. No, the sweat on these guys is not from working out pre-performance, but from the intense heat that day. But, I digress......without further ado......I present the "Pink Lilies"!!!!! </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XepQ2RVkLdA&playnext=1&videos=pIFG_lPGbgA">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XepQ2RVkLdA&playnext=1&videos=pIFG_lPGbgA</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(this link is working now)</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-61138172556085725402010-07-31T09:31:00.000-07:002010-07-31T09:31:51.733-07:00Our PrincessWhen I found out I was having a girl after two boys, I was ecstatic! She has been such a joy to have in our family. She's such a girly-girl, so I get my fill of frill with her. Her sensitivity towards others is touching, and her creativity amazes me all the time.<br />
<div></div><div>Some of her favorites.........</div><div>Color: Purple (for today)</div><div>Books: Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn</div><div>Movies: Uhhh....Duh!</div><div>Activity: Baking, Drawing, Painting, Swimming, Hanging out with friends</div><div>Food: Sushi probably?</div><div><div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCbZaEvFSI/AAAAAAAAELE/N8ZGp-3Q20s/s1600/104300-R1-5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499066005817595170" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCbZaEvFSI/AAAAAAAAELE/N8ZGp-3Q20s/s320/104300-R1-5.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 216px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Hailey's blessing day. Noah's little peek around the corner cracks me up.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCRnyHH7zI/AAAAAAAAEJ8/r4BfIRnkn0g/s1600/Picture+014.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499055257671954226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCRnyHH7zI/AAAAAAAAEJ8/r4BfIRnkn0g/s320/Picture+014.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 214px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Always a "daddy's girl". She's got him wrapped around her finger.</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCRoG8tV6I/AAAAAAAAEKE/GpdAXeUUhA0/s1600/April+(11).jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499055263265413026" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCRoG8tV6I/AAAAAAAAEKE/GpdAXeUUhA0/s320/April+(11).jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 257px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>She's always been such a girlie-girl. Here, she comes out to help Daddy with the yard, but she still needs her heels on.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCRooHT9gI/AAAAAAAAEKM/FbPXXuYe6Zo/s1600/Picture+092.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499055272168257026" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCRooHT9gI/AAAAAAAAEKM/FbPXXuYe6Zo/s320/Picture+092.jpg" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel's Wedding</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCUyIXnn5I/AAAAAAAAEK0/HRAZtzw6snw/s1600/April+119.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499058733980295058" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCUyIXnn5I/AAAAAAAAEK0/HRAZtzw6snw/s320/April+119.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 214px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>She's always been very imaginative and creative. One day I caught her setting up a "classroom" in my shower.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCUyqoPXRI/AAAAAAAAEK8/CS1N_Y8LIwg/s1600/April+120.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499058743176813842" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCUyqoPXRI/AAAAAAAAEK8/CS1N_Y8LIwg/s320/April+120.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCUxuMmIHI/AAAAAAAAEKs/GI9c3JYt2F0/s1600/April+177.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499058726954737778" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCUxuMmIHI/AAAAAAAAEKs/GI9c3JYt2F0/s320/April+177.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 214px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Her dream is to be a cake maker. I've always admired what people can do with cakes, and it was her that got me into trying to make them. It's been fun coming up with creative ideas for cakes with her.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCbaIe3hXI/AAAAAAAAELM/F4ON9xFdS00/s1600/Starred+Photos.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499066018275231090" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TFCbaIe3hXI/AAAAAAAAELM/F4ON9xFdS00/s320/Starred+Photos.jpg" style="cursor: move; display: block; height: 180px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a>She's always absolutely LOVED dressing up. My favorite Halloween costumes she's worn have always been the ones that come with a wig. Especially that Snow White one. She looked so funny with that little round head.</div><div><br />
I feel so blessed to have a daughter as loving and sweet as she is. She wishes she could have a sister. However, I know she loves some of the perks of being the only girl. I also enjoy having just one and being able to focus all my "girl" attention to just her. I feel a different bond with her as we stick together in a house full of manliness. I love her with all my heart and am thankful to my Heavenly Father for sending her to me.<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-60081971022930413922010-07-29T18:01:00.000-07:002010-07-29T18:15:02.986-07:00What You Don't See<i><span class="Apple-style-span" >I came upon a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">web post</span> on Mormon Times today written by Tiffany Gee Lewis. As I read it, I realized that I am not the only one who feels lacking in one way or another as a mother. It's so true that we compare our WORST attributes with the BEST of everyone else. I often feel like I'm trying to do it all, but it just doesn't happen. This article gave me a boost & I hope will help anyone who reads here as well.</span></i><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>What you don't see, when we all march into church on Sunday morning, is the chaos of the morning that happened just 10 minutes earlier.<br /><br />What you don't see, when you look at my four little boys in their suits, is that the 7-year-old is wearing Dad's socks because we couldn't find his. And they go all the way up to his knees.<br /><br />What you don't see, when I pull out the lovely quiet book I made a few years back, is that below it, in my church bag, are five baggies of smashed raisins because I haven't cleaned out the bag for months.<br /><br />When you enter my house, with its shining entryway, you don't see the three loads of laundry dumped on my bed. Or the dirty pots I stashed in the oven. And you will never see the interior of my minivan, not until I find the time to vacuum it out.<br /><br />When you admire the hand-sewn pajamas I made for all the kids, we don't talk about the three nights I got no sleep to make those.<br /><br />If you look on my <a href="http://thetiffanywindow.wordpress.com/" target="_blank" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: baseline; cursor: pointer; color: rgb(23, 57, 97); text-decoration: none; border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-color: initial; font-weight: bold; ">blog</a>, you will see pictures of homemade chicken noodle soup with homemade noodles. You won't see my confession to popping in a frozen pizza THREE times last week for dinner.<br /><br />Or the night we ate Cheerios for dinner, dry, because we were out of milk. There is a zoom on my camera for a reason. There is a delete button for a reason.<br /><br />I don't think we're all playing a part. We naturally want to put our best selves forward, so that is what other people see. They don't see what's going on behind the scenes. I like to think that good parenting is like a duck on the water. What you see is the gentle, almost effortless gliding, not the furious paddling that happens underneath.<br /><br />I keep a mental list of about ten people I want to stalk by camera, from morning to night, to see how they <em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: baseline; ">do it all</em>. Are they up at 4 a.m.? Can they survive on three hours of sleep? Do they have a housekeeper? Because I drop balls just as fast as I can grab them. My intentions are of pure gold, but they come out as tinkling brass, at best.<br /><br />I started a blog last fall. I dragged my feet into it for many reasons. One of the main reasons I hesitated was I didn't want to be another contributor to the cyberspace <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">guiltosphere</span> out there. Especially where mothers are concerned, do we need one more reason to feel guilty?<br /><br />Because from the looks of things, other families are happier, their houses are cleaner, their marriages are better, their clothes are more stylish and their craftiness is even more crafty. Their lives are perfectly lovely, while my kids are running around screaming in their diapers.<br /><br />My worst fears were confirmed last week when I got an e-mail from a friend who asked, "How do you do it all? Your column, your blog, all the things you do with your children? You're amazing!"<br /><br />I looked around at my house, at the six bins of winter clothes waiting to be transported to the garage, at the sewing projects stacked against the wall, at the state of the toothpaste crusted to the sink ... I let things go, a lot of things.<br /><br />A spanking-clean house is not a high priority for me. I'm a big believer in mud and its importance in a child's life. The time I take to write is time away from scrubbing that bathroom sink. I would rather read with my kids than shop at the mall, so I am certainly not up-to-date on the latest styles. I've been listening to the same music for 20 years because I can't seem to keep up with the latest music scene. And I require a lot of sleep.<br /><br />We all have priorities. For some, it is keeping a spotless house, and they are good at it. For others, it is writing, or exercising, or serving others. And yes, there are some who seem to do it all, the Benjamin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Franklins</span> of the world. I tell myself I don't have to be them. And also, Benjamin Franklin was not much of a family man. Even he let things go.<br /><br />What we don't see, when we look at each other on Sunday, or on blogs, or in our shiny kitchens, is that we all have different talents and unique situations. I tell my kids all the time: Life is not a race. The only person you are competing against is yourself.<br /><br />What we forget to see, when admiring others, is our own <em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; outline-width: 0px; outline-style: initial; outline-color: initial; font-size: 13px; vertical-align: baseline; "><b>personal</b></em> finish line.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', Arial, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; "></span></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-48744019377735707842010-07-18T10:00:00.000-07:002010-07-18T10:00:32.747-07:00Carrie!! (take 2)<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-style: italic; ">(My loving hubby so kindly "published" this post while it was sitting unfinished on the computer, instead of "saving". The following is actually what I was wanting to initially publish.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Last year, a number of Hailey's friends were raving about how they got to go see the Jonas Brothers in concert. It hurt her feelings, and she felt very jealous, but I asked her of anyone who performs, who would she rather see? I knew the answer, but wanted to hear it straight from her mouth. The problem was, Carried Underwood hadn't been touring, so she'd have to wait.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then, in October of this year, I heard she was coming to Vegas. So I jumped on the computer & snagged a couple of tickets to see the concert. My plan was to give it to her for her birthday. However, her birthday wasn't for four more months. It was hard keeping it from her, and even harder telling her I didn't know if we could go when she'd ask if I'd bought tickets yet. Then her birthday arrived. It had been so long since I bought them, I completely spaced that I had them. So, even though it was few days after the fact, she opened her birthday present. I wish I could have had her reaction on film. She talked about it all the time, and even though the concert wasn't for another few months, the excitement never died. Even though I took tons of pictures & video, here's just a sample......</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA04gG9pMxI/AAAAAAAAEEQ/v3BhW5VsACo/s1600/IMG_0030.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA04gG9pMxI/AAAAAAAAEEQ/v3BhW5VsACo/s320/IMG_0030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480098445855896338" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Displaying the shirt she made before the concert.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA04g0d9zSI/AAAAAAAAEEY/IXeNDXYM2NM/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA04g0d9zSI/AAAAAAAAEEY/IXeNDXYM2NM/s320/IMG_0036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480098458071059746" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Julie (my sis), Mom, Hailey & I on our way out.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TABGtI5yS2I/AAAAAAAAECw/qTeWwqsuw-o/s1600/IMG_0066.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TABGtI5yS2I/AAAAAAAAECw/qTeWwqsuw-o/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476454888180435810" /></a>Craig Morgan was one of her opening acts. I didn't recognize his name, but I recognized a ton of his songs from the radio.<br /><br /><object width="500" height="405"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/R45h8-3xCS4&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/R45h8-3xCS4&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"></embed></object><br /><br />This was another opening act. I don't even remember their name. They were not exactly our favorite. Julie even studied her medical book for class during their act. One song's chorus just wore out our nerves. In order to have fun with it, Julie got gansta with it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TABGtouHHII/AAAAAAAAEC4/t44KbKjyyF8/s1600/IMG_0090.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TABGtouHHII/AAAAAAAAEC4/t44KbKjyyF8/s320/IMG_0090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476454896721403010" /></a>Her opening number was Cowboy Casanova. Seriously, her voice is amazing! She sounds JUST like she does on the radio/albums. You know how there are people that just don't sing well live (ahem Taylor Swift)? Not her!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TABGuEwlAiI/AAAAAAAAEDA/tIBLv55Qg0M/s1600/IMG_0136.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TABGuEwlAiI/AAAAAAAAEDA/tIBLv55Qg0M/s320/IMG_0136.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476454904247943714" /></a>At one point, she came out singing on the back of a "flying" pickup. It was cool just having her get so close for Hailey to see her better. I purposely took this picture with Hailey's face in the corner, so you could see how close she was here.<div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA05bUfhIqI/AAAAAAAAEEw/Fr-gGYeKS7A/s1600/5+May.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA05bUfhIqI/AAAAAAAAEEw/Fr-gGYeKS7A/s320/5+May.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480099463099916962" /></a>Many random pics I took of Julie & I. Couldn't seem to get a good one.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA0-Johxy9I/AAAAAAAAEE4/dUXmHwojeZE/s1600/IMG_0057.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA0-Johxy9I/AAAAAAAAEE4/dUXmHwojeZE/s320/IMG_0057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480104656798600146" /></a>Finally a decent one!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA04hWPg_wI/AAAAAAAAEEg/MWkfi9_MUUQ/s1600/IMG_0046.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TA04hWPg_wI/AAAAAAAAEEg/MWkfi9_MUUQ/s320/IMG_0046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480098467137257218" /></a>Hailey's prized Carrie concert shirt.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "></span></a><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-23351527141306602862010-06-20T22:00:00.000-07:002010-06-20T22:07:06.876-07:00My DaddyOn this, yet another Father's Day, I thought I'd do things a little different. First, I'd actually make a post on my blog. Second, I'd share a few things I love about my dad.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now that I'm an adult, my relationship with him has changed considerably. I remember him being so cool because he knew a lot of the music I listened to and would listen to it himself sometimes. Since I am the oldest of 7, our house would be a little crazy sometimes. Those times when he was driving me home from school when I was just starting out as a teenager, we'd just talk. It was great because there were no interruptions. I specifically remember one talk when I was kind of blue. He told me that he remembers being a teenager and that that would NEVER be a time he'd relive. I felt like he understood me completely & wasn't so "old". </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I also remember him turning 40 & thought he was way beyond old. I'm pushing that now, & realize my kids are thinking that about me too. Dad, you definitely weren't old, just a mere child!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e_HWJv8I/AAAAAAAAEGQ/8dOvOOIDrhg/s1600/Noah%27s+birthday+%26+baptism+031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e_HWJv8I/AAAAAAAAEGQ/8dOvOOIDrhg/s320/Noah%27s+birthday+%26+baptism+031.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485066572068929474" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Dad loves to joke around. I've always loved his sense of humor.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e8Wr81PI/AAAAAAAAEFw/jaZI2Cc42Cc/s1600/IMG_2811.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e8Wr81PI/AAAAAAAAEFw/jaZI2Cc42Cc/s320/IMG_2811.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485066524647281906" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Dadoo & a few of his granddaughters swinging on the backyard hammock. He loves playing around with his grandkids.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e-g5m7RI/AAAAAAAAEGI/A0N1Lkvpeww/s1600/November+090.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e-g5m7RI/AAAAAAAAEGI/A0N1Lkvpeww/s320/November+090.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485066561748659474" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We had a 60th surprise birthday party for him at Taco Bell. Dad's favorite restaurant, especially if he's paying. This was so much fun & they even let him work the drive through for an order!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e-GtBYEI/AAAAAAAAEGA/xF9dA0ka3lE/s1600/Picture+015.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e-GtBYEI/AAAAAAAAEGA/xF9dA0ka3lE/s320/Picture+015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485066554716545090" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is one of my favorite shots of him. The look on his face shows me how much he really does love his grandchildren.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e9TV2DPI/AAAAAAAAEF4/vdCQcdLzq2c/s1600/IMG_2647.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7e9TV2DPI/AAAAAAAAEF4/vdCQcdLzq2c/s320/IMG_2647.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485066540929125618" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">BYU was/is/and forever will be his favorite team. He was so sick the day of the BYU/Oregon football game, yet he had to be there.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7v6ZfOCKI/AAAAAAAAEGg/3zDhCMjOKqo/s1600/temple+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7v6ZfOCKI/AAAAAAAAEGg/3zDhCMjOKqo/s320/temple+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485085182737123490" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My parents were sealed in the St. George Temple when I was just a couple months old. I am so grateful my parents set that example to me about the importance of temple marriage.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dad, I know there are so many things I could say about you, but most of all, I'm grateful I was able to be your daughter. You are a great example to me. I am so appreciative of everything you do for me, my hubby & our kids. You are my "favorite". I hope you had a wonderful Father's Day!</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7zRGUONFI/AAAAAAAAEGo/e609zOrHRUg/s1600/Ginger.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/TB7zRGUONFI/AAAAAAAAEGo/e609zOrHRUg/s320/Ginger.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485088871262598226" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Love,<br />Gretchen....um, I mean<div> <a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-7965890442110618602010-05-15T09:10:00.000-07:002010-05-26T09:50:21.207-07:00My Benjamin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AioRxj8bI/AAAAAAAAD9c/hU06TN6EiPU/s1600/Benjamin.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AioRxj8bI/AAAAAAAAD9c/hU06TN6EiPU/s320/Benjamin.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471911622616543666" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I absolutely love my little man. I've never had a child so all over the board with his moods though. He can be such a cuddlebug one minute and the next be giving you his evil eye. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lately he's been cracking me up with his parrot-like comments. I've had to get on the other kids to be careful of the things that come out of their mouth. When you praise him for something he's done, his reply is "I'm just awesome like that" (thanks Jordan). Wow, no problems with self esteem with this guy! (BTW, we're working on stopping this phrase). </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">He recently lost 2 teeth. I don't think I've had a child lose teeth before kindergarten, but he is older than the others were at that point. It's hard to believe he will be going to school next year. Partly I'm excited, so that I can have a couple hours free to myself each day. On the other hand, I'm sad because my baby will be in school. It's never easy when they start school. They still seem too little, and it feels like I'm sending them in to the wolves. I really had this feeling sending my kids to middle school....probably because <u>I WAS</u> sending them to the wolves.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I know he thinks he's 15 at times. He feels he should be able to do whatever he wants. Mom should NEVER tell him no. Dad, on the other hand, has more power over him in that department.....but hey, most kids respond to dad more anyways. At church on Sundays, you may not see me quite so happy with him though. Since Taylor's rarely at church with us, Ben pushes my buttons a little more. When he flashes his dimply smile at me, it's hard to stay mad at him long.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">These pictures really sum up his personality best........</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AWSmsZ20I/AAAAAAAAD9M/KSeajlqCksU/s1600/Trying+to+crawl2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AWSmsZ20I/AAAAAAAAD9M/KSeajlqCksU/s320/Trying+to+crawl2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471898056135400258" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Determination written all over his face as he learns to crawl.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQwie3oDI/AAAAAAAAD9E/AZwW4ZLjB9g/s1600/November+003.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQwie3oDI/AAAAAAAAD9E/AZwW4ZLjB9g/s320/November+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471891973331198002" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is one of my favorite pictures of him when he was little.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQwFgySWI/AAAAAAAAD88/UmVEmxH-KfQ/s1600/March+(7).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQwFgySWI/AAAAAAAAD88/UmVEmxH-KfQ/s320/March+(7).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471891965554608482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">He loves the dogs......sometimes a little too roughly though.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQv_4arpI/AAAAAAAAD80/JggSpN4DTkc/s1600/June+130.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQv_4arpI/AAAAAAAAD80/JggSpN4DTkc/s320/June+130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471891964043112082" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Swinging on Dadoo's hammock with Charlie & Mason.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AWTLlvYMI/AAAAAAAAD9U/8Peej4DFckA/s1600/December+002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AWTLlvYMI/AAAAAAAAD9U/8Peej4DFckA/s320/December+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471898066039562434" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A rare sight. He's constantly moving.....and never slowly.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQvaeU0bI/AAAAAAAAD8s/T5V8NcHdjvM/s1600/IMG_2932.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQvaeU0bI/AAAAAAAAD8s/T5V8NcHdjvM/s320/IMG_2932.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471891954001564082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQux022yI/AAAAAAAAD8k/6MWhmOBtfO0/s1600/IMG_2833.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AQux022yI/AAAAAAAAD8k/6MWhmOBtfO0/s320/IMG_2833.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471891943090215714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">He is obsessed with deodorant (pronounced "doe-o-dorant"). He wants to be just like his brothers. Last Christmas Noah gave him this deodorant for a present.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOSw1uipI/AAAAAAAAD8c/L1ypni2jf2g/s1600/IMG_3063.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOSw1uipI/AAAAAAAAD8c/L1ypni2jf2g/s320/IMG_3063.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471889262765836946" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Caught him reading Hailey's Twilight magazine. He was not happy I took this picture.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOSX8BmFI/AAAAAAAAD8U/VZ3Kicvc6ZM/s1600/037.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOSX8BmFI/AAAAAAAAD8U/VZ3Kicvc6ZM/s320/037.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471889256081365074" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">He loved Primary baseball.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOSFWQ1kI/AAAAAAAAD8M/_6Lr-Pra570/s1600/122.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOSFWQ1kI/AAAAAAAAD8M/_6Lr-Pra570/s320/122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471889251091142210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Taking a break to visit with Brendan at 2nd base.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AORvx_jdI/AAAAAAAAD8E/KyNvTvLWm8A/s1600/IMG_3629.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AORvx_jdI/AAAAAAAAD8E/KyNvTvLWm8A/s320/IMG_3629.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471889245301870034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I'm thinking this would be a good timeout spot.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOQyb1QVI/AAAAAAAAD78/rgZqMnDppIY/s1600/164.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S_AOQyb1QVI/AAAAAAAAD78/rgZqMnDppIY/s320/164.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471889228834357586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">He lost 2 teeth within a day of each other.</div></div><div><br /><br /><div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-61258169691438546962010-05-03T10:00:00.000-07:002010-05-03T10:46:45.413-07:00The Past 7 Months in a Nutshell<div style="text-align: center;">I always felt like blogging was like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">journaling</span>. I'm realizing now more than ever how much that is true. Especially when it comes to letting too much time pass between blogs. The longer it goes, the more guilty I feel, but the more I feel I need to include, so I never end up getting around to it. Such a vicious cycle! So for my sake, if nothing else, I'll sum up what's happened around here for the past 7 months.........</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><b>September:</b><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274VfD-5PI/AAAAAAAADjM/BYL-bXICOOQ/s1600-h/0911090922+(1).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435554848281912562" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274VfD-5PI/AAAAAAAADjM/BYL-bXICOOQ/s320/0911090922+(1).jpg" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Jordan had a skin graft on his leg. I'll keep the graphic images for my own personal viewing, but I will fill everyone in on his progress. The surgery went perfectly. As expected, the place on his thigh where they took the donor skin was extremely painful. The doctor told him that he would need to wear a compression sock for almost a year. Because Jordan was vigilant about following the doctor's orders, plus the fact that he had youth on his side, he was able to keep the skin flat enough that he doesn't need to wear that legging. Now he just has his "awesome" battle scar to show off to the world.</div></div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S270uyyxrrI/AAAAAAAADjE/uDdjkiP_JOo/s1600-h/September+178.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435550885028671154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S270uyyxrrI/AAAAAAAADjE/uDdjkiP_JOo/s320/September+178.jpg" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 256px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I turned another year older this September (no age in needed). My life is quickly passing before my eyes. It's so true when they say you never feel as old as you look. Mentally I feel 25. Physically, I sometimes feel 70. The amount of candles on this cake almost burned a hole in the ceiling. Good thing they took a picture beforehand because the smoke afterwards just about blocked out the camera's lens.</div></div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S270udlkWOI/AAAAAAAADi8/9G6h2eob3CY/s1600-h/September+160.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435550879336126690" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S270udlkWOI/AAAAAAAADi8/9G6h2eob3CY/s320/September+160.jpg" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 214px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Airplane with my brother Michael.</div></div></div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278OYaebbI/AAAAAAAADks/pKpl5-zd_Ss/s1600-h/November+(183).JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435559124284632498" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278OYaebbI/AAAAAAAADks/pKpl5-zd_Ss/s320/November+(183).JPG" /></a><br />Jordan's view of combing his hair. He figures he can get his mop flattened by using a hat to do the work for him.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><strong>October:</strong></div><br />Noah turned 11 and received his Arrow of Light. I will always remember that night as being somewhat of a surprise. We were dealing with some issues at home, so I asked Noah if he really wanted to go to Scouts that night, since it was just a pack meeting and he didn't think he was receiving anything. About 6:15 (pack meeting started at 6), I got a call from a friend.......<br /><br />"Are you still coming tonight?"<br /><br /></div><div>"Coming where?"<br /><br /></div><div>"To pack meeting."<br /><br /></div><div>"Well, I wasn't planning on it. Why? Is Noah supposed to be doing something for it tonight?"<br /><br /></div><div>"Well, he's sort of the guest of honor. He's receiving his Arrow of Light."<br /><br /><div>"Huh? That's news to me! We'll be right there!"</div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">So I yelled for everyone to hurry and get in the car. I felt horrible for holding up the meeting, but yes, it would have been nice to know about it in the first place. I am so proud of Noah in receiving this award. He was so dedicated to Cub Scouting that he decided he was going to earn every single pin before he turned 11....and he did it!</div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S270t33AGZI/AAAAAAAADi0/MgonNsMLubE/s1600-h/September+105.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435550869208701330" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S270t33AGZI/AAAAAAAADi0/MgonNsMLubE/s320/September+105.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S2751Fx_uII/AAAAAAAADj8/VchTf4P5WNE/s1600-h/October_5.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435556490763024514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S2751Fx_uII/AAAAAAAADj8/VchTf4P5WNE/s320/October_5.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer; " /></a>Nicole, Jared & their kids came to visit for a few days. We were lucky enough to go see Lion King. That show is AMAZING! I highly recommend it. Ben was just transfixed the entire time.<br /><br /><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274XSjojQI/AAAAAAAADjs/rT5A2Kb7qYM/s1600-h/IMG_2213.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435554879284743426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274XSjojQI/AAAAAAAADjs/rT5A2Kb7qYM/s320/IMG_2213.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 214px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Another one bites the dust. Our table bench tipped over and landed on Hailey's foot. I wasn't sure if it was broken, but with our track record I decided to bring her to the podiatrist just in case. Sure enough, a bone in her foot was snapped in half. We have our podiatrist on speed dial at this point.</div></div><div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274W8zLJlI/AAAAAAAADjk/uHrgJAGUPSQ/s1600-h/IMG_2200.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435554873444345426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274W8zLJlI/AAAAAAAADjk/uHrgJAGUPSQ/s320/IMG_2200.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 214px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Taylor's idea of a Halloween costume for the youth dance. I'm not exactly sure the idea he was going for, but he certainly got razzed by the other leaders. I'm guessing it was a 70's type guy, but the chain, yellow shades, shaded beard & <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">undereyes</span> made him look like either a druggie or a pimp. He was the talk of the night, as you could imagine.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S27502agmOI/AAAAAAAADj0/CGemWEdDnek/s1600-h/IMG_2253.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435556486637983970" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S27502agmOI/AAAAAAAADj0/CGemWEdDnek/s320/IMG_2253.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 214px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">An angel & a snake. Most people thought the cast was part of the costume & called her a "fallen angel".</div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274Wvi1LVI/AAAAAAAADjc/wj2bq68hT7A/s1600-h/IMG_2198.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435554869886135634" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274Wvi1LVI/AAAAAAAADjc/wj2bq68hT7A/s320/IMG_2198.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 256px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Taylor & I were invited to a couples party at our friends' house. We were supposed to dress similar, and this was the only thing we could come up with (by the way, it's nice being able to fit into your son's clothes at times like these). It ended up being a Newlywed type game, but they called it the "More-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">lywed</span> game". Amazingly we ended up winning the whole thing (it was VERY close though).</div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274VxvtU9I/AAAAAAAADjU/uiwg4ICNSzY/s1600-h/October+(25).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435554853297148882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S274VxvtU9I/AAAAAAAADjU/uiwg4ICNSzY/s320/October+(25).jpg" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 214px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Noah & Bill once again were able to spend their birthday together. I'm not sure if they've missed a year since the day Noah was born. Noah LOVES the Packers, so I had to make a jersey cake for him.</div></div></div></div></div></div><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><b>November:</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278NoIApBI/AAAAAAAADkc/OOgCHNpM5eQ/s1600-h/November+(127).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435559111322280978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278NoIApBI/AAAAAAAADkc/OOgCHNpM5eQ/s320/November+(127).JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 256px; display: block; height: 320px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We took a trip up to Cold Creek in the northwest part of town. Taylor goes here to fish sometimes, the wild horses wander all around with no fear of people obviously.</div></div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S2752rnb-zI/AAAAAAAADkU/WS2gHzwUiDU/s1600-h/November+(112).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435556518099155762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S2752rnb-zI/AAAAAAAADkU/WS2gHzwUiDU/s320/November+(112).JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 214px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">They are a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">skittish</span>, but they will let you pet them if you're slow about it.</div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S2752DVKDlI/AAAAAAAADkM/i2c4CI67yIg/s1600-h/November+(128).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435556507285065298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S2752DVKDlI/AAAAAAAADkM/i2c4CI67yIg/s320/November+(128).JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 214px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This one was so fearless, he decided to peek his head in to say hi.</div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S275123Q_1I/AAAAAAAADkE/eTj6HNTqwHk/s1600-h/November+(9).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435556503938465618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S275123Q_1I/AAAAAAAADkE/eTj6HNTqwHk/s320/November+(9).JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The big month of November came. We were not so much excited for Thanksgiving and the school break it brings, but that New Moon came out. It was almost as exciting as Christmas for us!</div></div></div></div></div><div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I received a new calling to be the Boy Scout Committee Chairman. I was a little surprised at this, since I thought women handled the Cub Scouting and men handled the Boy Scouts. I also felt very overwhelmed for a couple of months, since I had absolutely NO idea about Boy Scouts and how it worked. I really love the calling now.</div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278OLrImmI/AAAAAAAADkk/6akBK1UkklM/s1600-h/IMG_1959.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435559120864844386" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278OLrImmI/AAAAAAAADkk/6akBK1UkklM/s320/IMG_1959.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 240px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Cousins swinging in the hammock and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Momoo's</span> house (Reese, Charlie & Clara)</div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/LHciUQYVU-k&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/LHciUQYVU-k&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">BYU</span> vs. Utah game. All the men in our family are obvious <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">BYU</span> football fans.</span></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "></span>December:</b></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M9SzdFZI/AAAAAAAAD2Y/U30brG7GKBA/s1600/IMG_2106.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M9SzdFZI/AAAAAAAAD2Y/U30brG7GKBA/s320/IMG_2106.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466680507345212818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; ">Jordan got his braces off.....a perfect present for his birthday the following day.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><div><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278PKktDVI/AAAAAAAADk0/pjEqdgnZoAE/s1600-h/November+(206).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435559137749306706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S278PKktDVI/AAAAAAAADk0/pjEqdgnZoAE/s320/November+(206).JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 256px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; ">Jordan & his cousin Claire share the same birthday, albeit 12 years apart. Love the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">staredown</span> she's giving him here.</div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U0ncGNnI/AAAAAAAAD2w/1v1O6ELSvqs/s1600/IMG_2636.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U0ncGNnI/AAAAAAAAD2w/1v1O6ELSvqs/s320/IMG_2636.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466689154358589042" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; ">An <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Xbox</span> controller for Jordan's birthday. I was in such a hurry, so I feel like I could have done a lot better on this one. It was fun though.</div></div></div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S28EKGC0YFI/AAAAAAAADlM/WFD6_XPauwQ/s1600-h/12+December.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435567846727114834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S28EKGC0YFI/AAAAAAAADlM/WFD6_XPauwQ/s320/12+December.jpg" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 256px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Christmas at Grandpa Bill's house. So exciting having Santa take time out of his busy schedule to visit our family.</div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U1xpqvgI/AAAAAAAAD3A/iECxfVr-u6I/s1600/IMG_2907.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U1xpqvgI/AAAAAAAAD3A/iECxfVr-u6I/s320/IMG_2907.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466689174279732738" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Four generations of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Kochs</span> (& a Caron)</div></div><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U1AEJ8lI/AAAAAAAAD24/P3if_mPzNAU/s1600/12+December1.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U1AEJ8lI/AAAAAAAAD24/P3if_mPzNAU/s320/12+December1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466689160969056850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mistletoe hung in our entryway.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U0OH9eZI/AAAAAAAAD2o/YimJ1AVYyv0/s1600/12+December.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U0OH9eZI/AAAAAAAAD2o/YimJ1AVYyv0/s320/12+December.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466689147563243922" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We made gingerbread houses this year for the first time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S28EKuU5-dI/AAAAAAAADlU/jSFyM63bXgs/s1600-h/IMG_2800.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435567857540397522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S28EKuU5-dI/AAAAAAAADlU/jSFyM63bXgs/s320/IMG_2800.JPG" style="text-align: center; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; width: 320px; display: block; height: 214px; cursor: pointer; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; ">Santa came and went. He's always so nice to leave the kids some reindeer milk.</div></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U2dxrK1I/AAAAAAAAD3I/wmO-H3JneqM/s1600/IMG_2921.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92U2dxrK1I/AAAAAAAAD3I/wmO-H3JneqM/s320/IMG_2921.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466689186124475218" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center; ">We are very into "lining up" for events. It used to be pretty easy to do. Youngest to oldest. </div><div style="text-align: center; ">Now there are so many of us, we hardly fit in the hallway. Plus the women are ending up having to stand in front of their children in order to be seen.</div></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M9SzdFZI/AAAAAAAAD2Y/U30brG7GKBA/s1600/IMG_2106.JPG"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><b>January:</b></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I guess this month was little slower. Either that, or there was nothing exciting to photograph. I do have a good video though.......</div><div></div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/1qaUf6_s86s&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/1qaUf6_s86s&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">He's eaten his vitamins every day since.</div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>February:</b><br /><div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M8n0NbVI/AAAAAAAAD2Q/Zn3ErH64f0c/s1600/IMG_3268.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M8n0NbVI/AAAAAAAAD2Q/Zn3ErH64f0c/s320/IMG_3268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466680495805656402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Hailey turned 9. She wanted a cake shaped like a purse, so I did my best to use her initials of HC to copy the LV of the Louis Vuitton purses. Turned out pretty good for my first try.</div></div></div><div><br /><br /></div><b>March:</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">My little man turned 5 on March 31st. I can't believe it's been that long since my baby was born.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92izGMz-zI/AAAAAAAAD3Y/wx6tn7VbP1o/s1600/IMG_3400.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92izGMz-zI/AAAAAAAAD3Y/wx6tn7VbP1o/s320/IMG_3400.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466704521419029298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This cake was much bigger than it looked in this picture.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/sV5ou0onofU&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/sV5ou0onofU&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">Such an annoying mom on the sidelines. I couldn't get away with this with my older boys.</div><div><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/kwDf5spxbBI&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/kwDf5spxbBI&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">Primary baseball started off to a violent start. Every time the ball was hit, a dogpile ensued. With the amount of time it took to pull all the kids off each other, the runner could have made a home run.</div></div><div><br /></div></div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/QNEsY8VWnak&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/QNEsY8VWnak&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ben had the ball in his hands in this play, but his teammate was holding his arm with the mitt down so he couldn't get up.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><b>April:</b><br /><div><b><br /></b><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M8OyGKvI/AAAAAAAAD2I/ERRlvKzrqBI/s1600/IMG_3609.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M8OyGKvI/AAAAAAAAD2I/ERRlvKzrqBI/s320/IMG_3609.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466680489085905650" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We ended up getting a new playmate for Katie (and for us of course). Having a puppy is fun, yet challenging.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92i0YW3ViI/AAAAAAAAD3w/6-tF8Y5Jeqc/s1600/IMG_3597.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92i0YW3ViI/AAAAAAAAD3w/6-tF8Y5Jeqc/s320/IMG_3597.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466704543472899618" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Missy's favorite sleeping position. I don't get it.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92i0O4kvOI/AAAAAAAAD3o/wtY1ykTlJNI/s1600/IMG_3603.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92i0O4kvOI/AAAAAAAAD3o/wtY1ykTlJNI/s320/IMG_3603.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466704540929932514" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Katie's favorite pasttime is licking the dinner dishes while their being loaded in the dishwasher. Now she has a partner in crime.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92izkB9oNI/AAAAAAAAD3g/lbZk_1KNWQ4/s1600/164.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92izkB9oNI/AAAAAAAAD3g/lbZk_1KNWQ4/s320/164.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466704529426587858" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Benjamin lost 2 teeth within a day of each other. He has the cutest lisp now.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92iyjWAA-I/AAAAAAAAD3Q/gg7nUPjtE_M/s1600/058.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92iyjWAA-I/AAAAAAAAD3Q/gg7nUPjtE_M/s320/058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466704512062325730" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Hailey & Benjamin decided that they wanted to leave a treat for the Easter Bunny. We leave food for Santa, so why leave EB out of the fun?</div></div><div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M7SHFkYI/AAAAAAAAD2A/AvZIJZruCbk/s1600/IMG_3511.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/S92M7SHFkYI/AAAAAAAAD2A/AvZIJZruCbk/s320/IMG_3511.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466680472799383938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Easter bonnets are my the tradition at Momoo & Dadoo's house. We don't start the egg hunt until everyone sticks that bucket on their heads.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img style="BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; BORDER-TOP: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT: 0px" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-36562019408081888192009-09-09T07:56:00.000-07:002009-09-09T08:10:09.044-07:00UpdateJordan will be getting his skin graft surgery on Friday. We're both very excited. I'm thrilled because we can finally lay this injury to rest. He's thrilled because he gets to miss at least a day of school. I just don't think he knows what he's really in for. <div><br /></div><div>By the way...I kind of have a theory. Granted, I didn't go to medical school, but I am curious if his wound has not been healing because of his allergy to the antibiotic he's been putting on. His burn in just one week has improved considerably with a new patch they gave him. <div><br /></div><div>Hmmmm, curious.<div><br /></div><div> <a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-83786573996777763562009-09-04T13:28:00.000-07:002009-09-05T00:06:26.370-07:00Here's the Story<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRFnf2GrI/AAAAAAAADD8/fIiiO20wktY/s1600-h/_Media+Card_BlackBerry_pictures_IMG01201.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRFnf2GrI/AAAAAAAADD8/fIiiO20wktY/s320/_Media+Card_BlackBerry_pictures_IMG01201.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377809324489185970" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Many people have been asking the deal with Jordan and his leg and how it happened. I am usually pretty strong when it comes to injuries involving my children, but this one tends to get me a little queasy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">For those of you who know Jordan, you understand that he isn't one to shy away from stupid situations. I firmly believe that one day I'll see him on Nitro Circus. Two months ago, Jordan and Noah went up to Utah to visit with his grandparents. He stayed a while longer in order to visit with his cousins in Rexburg. My brother in-law owns Rexburg Motor Sports, so dirt bikes and four wheelers are readily available. One afternoon while dirt biking, he got stuck in some mud and the bike tipped over on him. His leg became stuck between the tire and the exhaust pipe and burned clean through his jeans. Funny how his jeans had no damage, just the leg.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now, for a positive and a negative. Negative note, during the month of August we had no insurance. Positive note, since he was up in Idaho, he could go straight to the burn center and didn't have to be sent to every other doctor in Vegas, each of them charging a fee, just to end up sending him to the one who would treat him. Things seem to be much simpler in Rexburg. Plus, medical treatment up there is considerably cheaper.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRHmX6MtI/AAAAAAAADEc/Y8OHEoQDFcI/s1600-h/Jordan+and+the+burn+012.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRHmX6MtI/AAAAAAAADEc/Y8OHEoQDFcI/s320/Jordan+and+the+burn+012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377809358547202770" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hanging out in the whirlpool for burn treatment. This was the daily drill for a couple weeks.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, we kept him up in Rexburg with my saint of a sister in-law Nicole in order to get him as much treatment as possible before bringing him home. The timing of it all couldn't have been more perfect. He had enough work done on him up there in order for us to understand what the extent of the damage was, as well as learn how we needed to treat him when he got home. Also, hey were kind enough to send him home with a huge box of supplies to get us by for a while (never knew how expensive gauze and wrappings were).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We have also been blessed to have a couple of nurses in our ward. I was able to ask whatever question I had, plus one of them came by a couple times to check things out and make sure everything looked okay. We pretty much knew a skin graft was on the horizon, but had to hold out hope that it would heal on its own.....or at least stay okay until our insurance began.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, that's where we lie. We've had our consult at UMC's burn unit and are just awaiting a call for the surgery date. I can't wait for this to all be over with. And if <b>I</b> can't wait, I can just imagine how Jordan must feel. I do have to say, he has been VERY tough through this whole process. He's been taking care of his wound himself, being very cautious as to follow the exact steps the doctors told him. He doesn't complain about the pain at all....unless someone accidentally knocks his leg. I forget half the time that he even has this issue. I just couldn't be more proud of him.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">For those of you morbid types, who enjoy checking out wound pictures, I'll post them here. For those of you who might puke if you see any sort of blood, I'll post them very small.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRGPKqQqI/AAAAAAAADEE/tQ-xeQDNj3M/s800-h/0806091638a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 32px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRGPKqQqI/AAAAAAAADEE/tQ-xeQDNj3M/s320/0806091638a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377809335137747618" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style="text-align: center;">1 hour after the accident</div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRGuytQTI/AAAAAAAADEM/n4RaUv3jU9I/s800-h/August+112.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 27px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRGuytQTI/AAAAAAAADEM/n4RaUv3jU9I/s320/August+112.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377809343627215154" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">3 wee</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ks after</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRHNUfAPI/AAAAAAAADEU/7EB3Qk-am3c/s800-h/August+219.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 40px; height: 27px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHRHNUfAPI/AAAAAAAADEU/7EB3Qk-am3c/s320/August+219.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377809351821951218" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style="text-align: center;">4 weeks after</div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHYP3YI2NI/AAAAAAAADEk/ehPBQo8Hi44/s800-h/0903090937.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 30px; height: 40px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SqHYP3YI2NI/AAAAAAAADEk/ehPBQo8Hi44/s320/0903090937.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377817197131913426" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style="text-align: center;">At the consult with the surgeon....we didn't know he was allergic to sulfa in the antibiotic they gave us to apply. This caused the redness here.</div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div> <a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-45319921820508322512009-08-25T11:26:00.000-07:002009-09-05T00:12:04.642-07:00My Baby Is HUGE!<div style="text-align: center;">Over the past several months, something has been happening to Jordan that I've never seen with any of my children. I first noticed it when his jeans kept looking like he was expecting a flood. Then I realized I wasn't looking down at his eyes any longer....it felt like I was looking up. He literally grew 3 inches in a matter of months!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">In my laundry room is a chart I keep for each of the kids' height. When we moved, I wrote down all the measurements on the previous wall in order to have it all. I also measure Taylor & myself in order for the kids to have something to gauge their growth by. The big goal was to grow taller than Mom.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SpQvqm4bvhI/AAAAAAAADB0/nMp0vUtQoRw/s1600-h/August+206.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 128px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SpQvqm4bvhI/AAAAAAAADB0/nMp0vUtQoRw/s320/August+206.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373972664398102034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Height Wall</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SpQtncR5DwI/AAAAAAAADBs/dk2mXQ0c38A/s800-h/August+116.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SpQtncR5DwI/AAAAAAAADBs/dk2mXQ0c38A/s320/August+116.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373970410989227778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I was still in denial that Jordan was taller than me, so we decided to be super scientific and stand back-to-back with a bread board on our heads. This picture became his proof that he is taller than me. He is so excited now!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SpQvrOhCHEI/AAAAAAAADB8/OmqyBZE07H8/s1600-h/August+207.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SpQvrOhCHEI/AAAAAAAADB8/OmqyBZE07H8/s320/August+207.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373972675037371458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Now the ultimate test is to see if they can get close or even surpass Taylor.</div><br /><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-34522154866453931392009-08-12T13:30:00.000-07:002009-08-14T10:51:55.673-07:0014 Years & Counting<div style="text-align: center;">Today is our 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> wedding anniversary. It's such an odd feeling. It feels like it's flown by so fast, yet I can't remember a time when I didn't know Taylor. </div><div style="text-align: center;">He's the perfect man for me, but sometimes I'm amazed at how we ended up together. We were so opposite. He was Mr. Social, while I was so reserved and quiet. He was the institute council president at the time, and was conducting a meeting that I was actually forced to go to by my friends (thank you, you guys). There was just something about him when I first saw him. I was instantly attracted to him, but of course knew nothing could ever come of that. Everyone knew who he was, and since he was such a flirt, I knew many girls wanted to go out with him. I later found out that my roommate had gone out with him a couple times right before we met.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I still don't know how everything fell into place, but I know that Heavenly Father had a huge hand in it. From the moment we met, we ended up either seeing each other or talking on the phone every day from that point.</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMRLdnm0uI/AAAAAAAAC3E/t5vET9SgaSg/s1600-h/10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMRLdnm0uI/AAAAAAAAC3E/t5vET9SgaSg/s320/10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369154069382746850" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Wow we look tired. Going to work, then staying up all night with each other can really take a toll on your body. Unfortunately, you don't really know this is happening at the time.</div>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoWjBkVUP_I/AAAAAAAAC4k/Mb76Vvgj38M/s1600-h/temple.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoWjBkVUP_I/AAAAAAAAC4k/Mb76Vvgj38M/s320/temple.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369877378037465074" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Wedding day - 1995</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMRKgRldhI/AAAAAAAAC28/gxDhyIGYL-M/s1600-h/37.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 216px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMRKgRldhI/AAAAAAAAC28/gxDhyIGYL-M/s320/37.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369154052915820050" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">1997</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMRMaMu_8I/AAAAAAAAC3U/eXwLe4wrjZ4/s1600-h/Family+picture.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMRMaMu_8I/AAAAAAAAC3U/eXwLe4wrjZ4/s320/Family+picture.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369154085644599234" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><div style="text-align: center;">1999</div></span>
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoWi_GK3DEI/AAAAAAAAC4M/Y2vfol56yd0/s1600-h/Caron+family.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoWi_GK3DEI/AAAAAAAAC4M/Y2vfol56yd0/s320/Caron+family.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369877335580806210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">2001</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMWQ5vUPhI/AAAAAAAAC3k/59G-uLCQQj0/s1600-h/image-6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMWQ5vUPhI/AAAAAAAAC3k/59G-uLCQQj0/s320/image-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369159660388761106" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">2003</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMWSv4VwjI/AAAAAAAAC30/WEzsiHZ96xw/s1600-h/IMG_2704.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMWSv4VwjI/AAAAAAAAC30/WEzsiHZ96xw/s320/IMG_2704.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369159692101993010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">2006</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMYb1uCcsI/AAAAAAAAC4E/IiykPyeThgQ/s1600-h/DSC_0070a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMYb1uCcsI/AAAAAAAAC4E/IiykPyeThgQ/s320/DSC_0070a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369162047311475394" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">2008</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><r="try href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svB5DI5WaU/SoMWS93NL2I/AAAAAAAAC38/WbuQ--buE6I/s1600-h/June+(11).JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SoMWS93NL2I/AAAAAAAAC38/WbuQ--buE6I/s320/June+(11).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369159695855333218" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">2009</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am more in love with you today than I was 14 years ago. I am so grateful to know that you are my protector, provider, and most of all my best friend....the person I can tell anything to. </div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Anniversary honey! We've come a long way!!!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div>
<br /></div></r="try>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-54817283087384338792009-08-06T12:09:00.000-07:002009-08-06T12:27:56.276-07:00Seriously?!?<div style="text-align: center;">It's 12:15 pm right now, and this is what Hailey's doing right now.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Snsujesvu9I/AAAAAAAAC2s/b7lwihLfGXU/s1600-h/August+040.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Snsujesvu9I/AAAAAAAAC2s/b7lwihLfGXU/s320/August+040.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366934568013118418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I know she went to bed late, but seriously...if she's sleeping this late as an 8 year-old, what am I going to deal with when she's a teenager?</div><div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-69690449334617969382009-08-01T20:11:00.000-07:002009-08-02T17:17:46.580-07:00My Girl Surprised Me!<div style="text-align: center;">Hailey played soccer this year for the first time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-2zW3S6_I/AAAAAAAAC1I/THMh8ZZVEDk/s1600-h/Hailey+Soccer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-2zW3S6_I/AAAAAAAAC1I/THMh8ZZVEDk/s320/Hailey+Soccer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359203075021270002" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;">At her first practice, she pranced around like a stereotypical girl. I almost felt like putting a bag over my head. My daughter was "that player".....the one you don't want the ball going to during a game. I wondered if I had made a mistake signing her up. </div><div style="text-align: center;">After that first practice, I decided that I needed to put my many years of soccer experience to work (1 season). I taught her how to kick the right way, dribble between cones, an even <b>tried</b> to teach her to be more aggressive. I doubt she'll ever be too aggressive with anyone other than her brother. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-20rVM_sI/AAAAAAAAC1g/VZlMQv_AauQ/s1600-h/April+(171).JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-20rVM_sI/AAAAAAAAC1g/VZlMQv_AauQ/s320/April+(171).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359203097695289026" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">At the next practice, she honestly shocked me. All of a sudden she had confidence. I took that bag off my head and held my head high. She was pretty good! This was also the first time I witnessed how fast she can run. I am so proud of how well she did. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-2z0N2xfI/AAAAAAAAC1Y/OebTtmjbKlg/s1600-h/April+(183).JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-2z0N2xfI/AAAAAAAAC1Y/OebTtmjbKlg/s320/April+(183).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359203082900522482" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Her face gets beat red anytime she's out playing in the sun for more than 30 seconds. </span></div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-2zqnl6KI/AAAAAAAAC1Q/WtGvx-ze9iE/s1600-h/Hailey+Soccer+Team+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-2zqnl6KI/AAAAAAAAC1Q/WtGvx-ze9iE/s320/Hailey+Soccer+Team+001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359203080324114594" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The "Orange Crushers"</div><div style="text-align: center;">We can't wait till the next soccer season.</div><br /><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/179/CD6CF604D4DC3C815E14B001D089FC06.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-12625550820709737382009-08-01T16:56:00.000-07:002009-08-01T17:16:40.740-07:00Ewww!<div style="text-align: center;">Our bugman recently came and sprayed around our house. This is what we woke up to the next morning.</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SnTWzeLvKHI/AAAAAAAAC2k/urGqagXo6DQ/s1600-h/July+007.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SnTWzeLvKHI/AAAAAAAAC2k/urGqagXo6DQ/s320/July+007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365149235869067378" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I'm pretty sure he did a good job.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/246/1F28D4DEA2B12D760F4B2A660A10B1C2.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-38354070401727542312009-07-16T23:59:00.000-07:002009-08-01T19:27:02.845-07:00The End....Phew!<div style="text-align: center;">The end of the school year has finally come to a close for the rest of my kids. Now I officially have 2 middle school kids. Funny how I thought that would be a LONG ways away. It's making me really feel my age now. I was thrilled to have both of these teachers for them this year.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Of course there are the mandatory end of the year award ceremonies. It's neat how they make a big deal about the fifth graders moving on. As a former 5th grade teacher, I remember how bittersweet these feelings were. You are excited for them to move on, but they are the only grade level that won't be returning to that school. Some of those kids you'll never see again.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-zA19ZVpI/AAAAAAAAC1A/09huM2nJPJw/s1600-h/July+200.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-zA19ZVpI/AAAAAAAAC1A/09huM2nJPJw/s320/July+200.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359198908660143762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Hailey & Mrs. Norman</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-zAZczCjI/AAAAAAAAC04/eeCJmId5s7g/s1600-h/July+197.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-zAZczCjI/AAAAAAAAC04/eeCJmId5s7g/s320/July+197.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359198901007223346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Noah's 5th Grade Class</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-y_06JZvI/AAAAAAAAC0w/idgHhKDrCiQ/s1600-h/IMG_1454.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-y_06JZvI/AAAAAAAAC0w/idgHhKDrCiQ/s320/IMG_1454.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359198891198211826" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">So cute, all dressed up for the awards</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-y_r7nQsI/AAAAAAAAC0o/rkR5KtkxP7Y/s1600-h/IMG_1499.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-y_r7nQsI/AAAAAAAAC0o/rkR5KtkxP7Y/s320/IMG_1499.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359198888788443842" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I don't remember what set Hailey off into this mood, but I just couldn't get her to smile...not even fake one.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-y_PyL8ZI/AAAAAAAAC0g/DZu81q5f4LQ/s1600-h/IMG_1488.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-y_PyL8ZI/AAAAAAAAC0g/DZu81q5f4LQ/s320/IMG_1488.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359198881232712082" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Noah proud of his awards.</div></div><div><div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-21843037348889095022009-07-16T15:01:00.000-07:002009-07-16T15:52:11.292-07:00I Feel Dirty!<div style="text-align: center;">I seriously have found a new hobby/passion. This hobby of baking has been taking up half my days lately . . . . and the other half taken up by cleaning it all up.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Ever since I started making cakes, I have used a MASSIVE amount of Crisco. I told Taylor the other day that in the past 6 months I have used more Crisco than I have used our entire 14 years of marriage....and then some. Not only do many recipes call for it, but you also need to slather it all over your counter and hands in order to keep fondant from sticking to it. My whole body just feels like a mess of grease and powdered sugar when I get finish a cake.....but I LOVE IT!</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-s7AnU7LI/AAAAAAAAC0Y/fv18jXV-mxU/s1600-h/July+218.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-s7AnU7LI/AAAAAAAAC0Y/fv18jXV-mxU/s320/July+218.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359192211371388082" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This cake was an assignment for my class right now.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-s65rdvwI/AAAAAAAAC0Q/qo8IcdZ_8Ds/s1600-h/July+246.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-s65rdvwI/AAAAAAAAC0Q/qo8IcdZ_8Ds/s320/July+246.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359192209509695234" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Hailey wanted to make a miniature version of my cake. I think she did a pretty dang good job!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">For the end of the school year, the kids and I made cakes for their teachers.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-sp-AvMsI/AAAAAAAAC0I/xuVTtMz3S9c/s1600-h/July+146.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-sp-AvMsI/AAAAAAAAC0I/xuVTtMz3S9c/s320/July+146.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191918614885058" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mr. Games loves golf, so Noah really wanted to duplicate my previous golf cake. This time we made some additions with my first attempt at gum paste.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-so446MtI/AAAAAAAACz4/h43jXeMAwio/s1600-h/July+163.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-so446MtI/AAAAAAAACz4/h43jXeMAwio/s320/July+163.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191900060005074" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mrs. Norman loves motorcycles, but I wasn't even about to attempt one yet. I found this cute idea online of a thank you note written from the student to the teacher on notebook paper.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-spXusjCI/AAAAAAAAC0A/X3ZACPXxOo8/s1600-h/July+158.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/Sl-spXusjCI/AAAAAAAAC0A/X3ZACPXxOo8/s320/July+158.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359191908338666530" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">"Little Hailey"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Despite my lack of sleep, and finishing up at the last second, I think they turned out pretty good. I even had some people ask me where I got them from. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hahaha</span>! What a great compliment!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/179/CD6CF604D4DC3C815E14B001D089FC06.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10545858.post-12100697915438149542009-07-07T18:30:00.000-07:002009-07-17T09:14:13.093-07:00Hooked Up & Burned Up<div style="text-align: center;">For the 4th this year, we went to some friend's house to barbecue & light some fireworks.</div><div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP7Awl73oI/AAAAAAAACzY/1KjY92Rvdv0/s1600-h/July+047.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP7Awl73oI/AAAAAAAACzY/1KjY92Rvdv0/s320/July+047.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355900372336238210" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I'm always shocked how expensive fireworks are, so it's always difficult for me to want to spend much on them. However, this year we hit the mother lode when a friend of Taylor's <b>seriously</b> hooked us up with some "leftovers". I had to commemorate this even since this will probably be the first and last time this opportunity comes around. However, this picture doesn't even do it justice.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP7AKL6b2I/AAAAAAAACzI/rTfuZFBhLms/s1600-h/July+089.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP7AKL6b2I/AAAAAAAACzI/rTfuZFBhLms/s320/July+089.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355900362026544994" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The guys would line up a bunch at once. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> Usually we have to ration them in order to make it last longer.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP6_yZZqSI/AAAAAAAACzA/_ktKHWBr50Y/s1600-h/July+124.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP6_yZZqSI/AAAAAAAACzA/_ktKHWBr50Y/s320/July+124.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355900355640666402" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Look at the size of this thing!</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP7AQxohvI/AAAAAAAACzQ/TOOUPVBFV4g/s1600-h/July+058.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP7AQxohvI/AAAAAAAACzQ/TOOUPVBFV4g/s320/July+058.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355900363795367666" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This year, there were so many "illegals" being shot off in the air all around us. There was no need to go to a fireworks show at one of the hotels with these bad boys going off.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlQcr-pKGVI/AAAAAAAACzg/hy59Td3Lss0/s1600-h/July+106.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlQcr-pKGVI/AAAAAAAACzg/hy59Td3Lss0/s320/July+106.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355937398725941586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The kids had a blast watching all the different lights showering in front of them.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlQcsXC5nVI/AAAAAAAACzo/na2Wx--g2rM/s1600-h/July+056.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlQcsXC5nVI/AAAAAAAACzo/na2Wx--g2rM/s320/July+056.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355937405276364114" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Jordan just enjoyed lighting things on fire.</div></div><div><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FS2auvmhP4o&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FS2auvmhP4o&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br /><div>Hailey isn't too fond of the fireworks. Not the noise but the fear of getting burned.<div><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IuQa7ycRxAQ&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IuQa7ycRxAQ&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I love this video. Look closely at Taylor on the left. His reaction cracks me up each time I see it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP6_UL_9LI/AAAAAAAACy4/fwSCNFozJvk/s1600-h/July+117.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-svB5DI5WaU/SlP6_UL_9LI/AAAAAAAACy4/fwSCNFozJvk/s320/July+117.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355900347531392178" /></a>He was still a little stunned after he was singed.</div><div><br /></div><div>All-in-all we had a fun July 4th....and generally safe, despite a few minor burns.</div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "></span></a><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/179/CD6CF604D4DC3C815E14B001D089FC06.png" style="border: 0 !important; background: transparent;" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Gingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17737490677725822041noreply@blogger.com6