tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218988022024-03-12T20:41:24.452-07:00Blah Blog Blah Blog Blah Bloglackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.comBlogger202125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-34485238528959913012010-01-17T12:28:00.002-07:002010-01-19T16:50:27.076-07:00The Cast<div><span style="color:#990000;">Ian broke his femur. How you ask, is it possible for a two year old who is two feet off of the ground to break his femur?</span><br /><span style="color:#990000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">Good question. It's a mathamatical equation that looks something like this:<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">(laminate floors + cup of water) + chasing big brother = femur spiral fracture </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#990000;">In other words:<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#990000;">($75 urgent care visit + $75 ER visit + $350 hospital copay) X spica cast X 4 weeks + a visit from CPS and city detective + one complaint report to the medical board / five hours of sleep each night = many cranky people. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">December 22nd, I had just cleaned up lunch and sent the kids out of the kitchen to play so that I could start my cookie making fest. At some point, my daughter had taken a kid's cup of water upstairs to the play room. The same play room that was nice and clean as I made the kids pick it up before lunch so that Santa would see that they took good care of their toys. In hindsight, I should have been happy with the scattered Mr Potato Head pieces and video game parts all over the floor. It would have prevented the running that took place. Needless to say, it's now my excuse for having a messy playroom. </span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">Back to the cup of water. Ian had taken the cup of water and poured it on the laminate floor. That one foot of space between our armoire and floor rug. Naturally. He then started chasing Erik (for reference, Ian can pretty much out run, out smack and out yell Erik any day of the week). He must have run right in to the puddle of spilled water and planted with his injured leg (left), slipped with his right leg and twisted enough to break his femur bone. </span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">I heard him screaming but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It was the same scream I hear whenever he doesn't get what he wants. I sent Lauren upstairs (who had just come downstairs to get a towel to clean up the water spill) to check on him and find out what they were fighting over. After a minute, I noticed the screaming hadn't stopped so I washed my peanut butter buckeye ball hands and went upstairs to find Ian on the floor rug, leg extended and grabbing his knee. It was obvious he was in a lot of pain. </span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">After assessing the situation (realizing he slipped in the water), I thought he did something to his knee. I picked him up, took him downstairs and set him on the counter. I gently moved his leg and foot to see if he would let me. He seemed to be fine with that motion. Suddenly, he grabbed the back of his leg and screamed "OWIES MOMMY! OWIES!" At this point, I didn't know what was going on. I picked him up, wrapped him in a blanket and sat in our rocking chair. I called my husband to come home from work and my mom to come over to watch the other kids.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">We called the nearest urgent care to make sure they had an x-ray machine. At the time, I was focused on getting him to the closest place with and x-ray just to see what was going on. If it was broken, we could then get him to the ER and probably be able to get right in. I have never had a good experience with emergency rooms, so I didn't want to chance waiting hours to be seen. Another unfortunate mistake on my part. </span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">At the urgent care, the Dr (who got his degree from the University of Nigeria and had "Yes We Can!" Obama posters in his hallway), took an x-ray and said he didn't see any breaks. He sent us home claiming he might just have some soft tissue damage and gave instructions to ice it and give him Motrin for pain. He assured us that in a couple of days, he would start to feel better. Unfortunate mistake number three.</span></p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 301px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427859646578159762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvpC5R6IK1ymCiTvEClciLq5IBgwrk3EIGgcUTs_2js2DpSE3675N70Z55SAycFcWW2dvn1lnz0_ECpbAYZ3thdHKuob_F6f7xAS1aS_LYYo-ptvjj_ETMOGqmBhVWHskfgfrD/s400/christmas+pjs+2009.jpg" /><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">A couple of days later it was Christmas Eve/Christmas day. He still wasn't putting weight on his leg and would scream with any diaper change. He hadn't slept more than an hour or two every night. He would be so tired, dose off, but then twitch, which would make him move his leg and he would wake up screaming! I knew something wasn't right but also knew there wouldn't be any specialist open on Christmas let alone, a Friday. My parents came over Christmas afternoon and I asked my dad what he thought might be wrong (give me the worst case senario). He suggested that it could either be a greenstick fracture (which might not necessarily show up on an x-ray right away) and that we'd need to go and get another x-ray to see if new bone growth was visible. OR.....he could have a spiral fracture and if they only took 1 x-ray, it would be hard to see it without having either A- a couple of x-rays with different views of the injured leg or B- an x-ray of the good leg to compare the two. He suggested a visit to a specialist if he wasn't putting weight on it by Monday.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">Monday (almost a week after his fall) we tried getting in to an ortho but had no luck so we decided to go straight to the new Children's hospital in town. That's when the real nightmare began.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">After doing 2 x-rays, it was determined that he had an OBVIOUS fracture. At first, we were just told it was a fracture and that it had separated. So, for the longest time, I was thinking that it was a greenstick which didn't present itself in our urgent care x-ray and that we might have made it worse from the few times we moved him. I felt horrible! I kept thinking, "How was it possible for the urgent care doctor to not see it? We went a whole week with him suffering in pain!" I started to cry and struggled to contain my fears, frustrations and heartache for my little boy. Of course, we then had "social services" pay us a visit in the ER and were warned by every Doctor we spoke to that<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi3qIO-JCoThyphenhyphen5-HUG7oaN_vlNPFfX_Ur0ZQH0vLy8orua2BWH0oR9V4cj2SLuXF9-RO44DVznmad03-gDBzv2QloPkC4WDtG9KvcNShRHSrpYn91mtRsYiiKOe7H3qUmDV-RE/s1600-h/ian+breakA.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 202px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 380px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428602319655386978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi3qIO-JCoThyphenhyphen5-HUG7oaN_vlNPFfX_Ur0ZQH0vLy8orua2BWH0oR9V4cj2SLuXF9-RO44DVznmad03-gDBzv2QloPkC4WDtG9KvcNShRHSrpYn91mtRsYiiKOe7H3qUmDV-RE/s400/ian+breakA.jpg" /></a> we were probably going to be getting a call from CPS. Just standard procedure when a child comes in with a head trauma or femur fracture and not to take it personally. Great. Add more stress to our situation.</span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">We checked in to the hospital and prepared for his procedure the next morning to set his leg and put him in a spica cast. Turns out, he had a spiral fracture which made more sense knowing he slipped, and the floor pediatrician comforted us by saying it probably separated immediately and wasn't anything we did that caused it to happen. I insisted that he be given the most pain killers they could give. I spent a week giving him Motrin for a femur fracture and wasn't about to let him suffer from the trauma anymore. They had him on morphine for the night. I went home to relieve my mom and take care of the other kids. My head hurt like I had been sobbing all day and my emotions were on my sleeve.......<br /></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">The next morning was the procedure where they put him under a general in order to manipulate his leg back into place. We spent the rest of the day recovering back in the room. After we controlled his pain, we were able to go home. </span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNkpk-sAWmndfmFr_uQl1HBUV0aJ7Sfp6-ClUlCAxSOBZXvZFnaIQ6Ek8tvE-qevL8FK_IVk4UTVJSYpITwYWMiFnUdgyhCeDpQy2bANo-Z1H3W0mfalnsrG7JMOq22VMTh4sG/s1600-h/spica+cast+B.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427860117780661186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNkpk-sAWmndfmFr_uQl1HBUV0aJ7Sfp6-ClUlCAxSOBZXvZFnaIQ6Ek8tvE-qevL8FK_IVk4UTVJSYpITwYWMiFnUdgyhCeDpQy2bANo-Z1H3W0mfalnsrG7JMOq22VMTh4sG/s400/spica+cast+B.jpg" /></a><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">The next day, we had a police detective and CPS come over and take a report of what happened basically making me feel like a horrible parent and guilty of something. They told us they'd get back to us after they get the urgent care records to let us know if we are "cleared" or not. As of now, we still haven't heard anything so it's a huge weight hanging over our heads. </span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">We had an amazing and sympathetic orthopedic surgeon who has really been kind throughout this process. We went for a follow up a couple of weeks later to x-ray through his cast and see if his bones are healing properly. He told us that he had been thinking about us and our situation and even spoke to other doctor friends of his about us. He said that at the very least, the urgent care doctor was negligent in being able to diagnose the fracture and that he obviously did less than any other doctor would have done in our situation. He would testify of that if necessary. We told him we had no plans to bring legal action against the urgent care doctor, but that we will expect, once we are sure CPS closes the case, that our copay is reimbursed at the very least and preferrably have whatever money our insurance paid him to be given back to us as well. That's the least for my son's pain and suffering for a week. Then, we do plan to file a complaint with the state medical board. Knowing he is a doctor in my neighborhood, we don't want another family to have to go through this nightmare that we have had to go through ever again. Our ortho adamantly agreed and supported our decision. We were truly blessed to have taken him in when we did in order to get such a great doctor to treat him. The new children's hospital was really nice as well. It had only been open for about a month and the staff was super nice and understanding. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6A0_2fB6mX4fkIrEJhsPKtSbChlzake84fgaXqt1DBMDC4KOH4CEyLnXivnX-PFRM0HlfZBKDkQialfJgY1qUqOcGPKrICFvzE60ojVYirgOYUOSFZPi9414dMxN3j3637QG/s1600-h/IMG_4981.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427860393550920914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq6A0_2fB6mX4fkIrEJhsPKtSbChlzake84fgaXqt1DBMDC4KOH4CEyLnXivnX-PFRM0HlfZBKDkQialfJgY1qUqOcGPKrICFvzE60ojVYirgOYUOSFZPi9414dMxN3j3637QG/s400/IMG_4981.JPG" /></a></span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#990000;">We are on week 3 now with the cast. It stinks. No really. It STINKS! But, I'll blog about that another time. He is scheduled to get the cast off on the 25th. Just in time for our trip to Disney World that next Saturday. </span></p></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-20139678565289521352010-01-11T20:30:00.005-07:002010-01-11T20:35:20.120-07:00Wall Art<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3wpBSB9cBrmhkIXCPooM_4LBKtfJ1WalDe-_hfCL3S4BARn38lD2rqtc5ss_-I10ea39R_g53P7Ssm0XwftN1ByN1PsuaPxNR265-FKT7FVeGgm9vpK8j8DNb5Uwqip1zCbe/s1600-h/2009+584.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425691335020310706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG3wpBSB9cBrmhkIXCPooM_4LBKtfJ1WalDe-_hfCL3S4BARn38lD2rqtc5ss_-I10ea39R_g53P7Ssm0XwftN1ByN1PsuaPxNR265-FKT7FVeGgm9vpK8j8DNb5Uwqip1zCbe/s400/2009+584.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaxLs4_YjhNRbg6TpPvtn8nMerotXVkd2x3VUWA6WrC99cSVvPxUr4a6Fk61qyOsFXd0P5RJJWk-RSggNxsL6Kk0DShTR3gwBmu6XSra_z1O7kndShOUSaXCyucX7mRmvJY5a/s1600-h/2009+583.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 154px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425691181603860066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaxLs4_YjhNRbg6TpPvtn8nMerotXVkd2x3VUWA6WrC99cSVvPxUr4a6Fk61qyOsFXd0P5RJJWk-RSggNxsL6Kk0DShTR3gwBmu6XSra_z1O7kndShOUSaXCyucX7mRmvJY5a/s400/2009+583.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbi7GU0JtYNnZXO0BJFjUq9dirBCOIa3cxryDFEoSceVQPTv9Pcj4K6uACe8J9hKFwubtXfxaecuaZZ-tDAEx5hK2RwzGWfkrN6so8qXy2CbIFNDzFq4DhH86lJSxylvH3naL7/s1600-h/2009+580.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425690923790960450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbi7GU0JtYNnZXO0BJFjUq9dirBCOIa3cxryDFEoSceVQPTv9Pcj4K6uACe8J9hKFwubtXfxaecuaZZ-tDAEx5hK2RwzGWfkrN6so8qXy2CbIFNDzFq4DhH86lJSxylvH3naL7/s400/2009+580.jpg" /></a> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425691492262857970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpCqKC3m_mm9wGyCswE83bjkLj-dLEPDodMMaNgd34azZWq_Mb1u-Q1Z6Gt9Ui8m0jQziqWCIQPcnNWUyJKfSQDscAUei9dr0LMTBQn5zpesmHMJlqVFrmZeGSL70a805Igmj/s400/2009+589.jpg" /> <div></div></div></div></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-92198319413827495402010-01-06T21:41:00.013-07:002010-01-06T22:14:39.594-07:00Summer Birthdays<div><div>Summers are birthdays around our house. And birthdays mean trying to think up cool, fun cakes.<br /></div><div><div>Erik is the master video game player. So it was fitting that for his 4th birthday, I make him a video game controller cake. Of course, it's a Nintendo 64 that's older than he is but.........he doesn't know any different.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzay0vJDAvy-FjS-z2TDCGElOBmsFzDpcxDTlair6J0SWH-hThW4L4hFFsR1Gyvvc_nep9_3o7zMQ9qE818abzctq6E00CvIh4IRFHIm5bcGbXM4Ej2EyTEfFTUEvdeeTDBSD/s1600-h/2009+484.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 305px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 185px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423856283565182706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizzay0vJDAvy-FjS-z2TDCGElOBmsFzDpcxDTlair6J0SWH-hThW4L4hFFsR1Gyvvc_nep9_3o7zMQ9qE818abzctq6E00CvIh4IRFHIm5bcGbXM4Ej2EyTEfFTUEvdeeTDBSD/s400/2009+484.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixW9g_whClJP3P_aRB9DYUAPYLTluBDsoxQYzOlHV1pgkV3riawz5HSQWZgLq_sM0w63qqPDSciz6KqR7tKw2MGvaFn2WWsCN9c7Hy3RDOKhj9nCc2AbnEpHhjqCDLm0Vbmcwf/s1600-h/2009+526.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423856592450672434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixW9g_whClJP3P_aRB9DYUAPYLTluBDsoxQYzOlHV1pgkV3riawz5HSQWZgLq_sM0w63qqPDSciz6KqR7tKw2MGvaFn2WWsCN9c7Hy3RDOKhj9nCc2AbnEpHhjqCDLm0Vbmcwf/s400/2009+526.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 252px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 140px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423855870928568386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX92YRO5MFYSxEoIAvT7lAe7kj3yPiJxW-02FDPtNMiQmN9QGaY3ndsc35QcXrvjgGNnDgOqIQPDFc4ek4Tc678botpBuSQgb5zbcglrKDGmPSBfwtO4EKywoEO3IKj5Kk-H8W/s400/2009+479.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Then it was Jack's birthday. Jack turned 7 and for his birthday, I finally finished his bedroom with a pirate theme. To go along with the "pirate" theme, I made him a pirate map cake.</div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9L-8_m02uwHgvv_BaFqe-vOoeLNaltW2ZX3Y_RXdYhVhllaMxKIps4pO0shRznIT-_OVmPHERaSCpF5-p1ofk1rMWb8RIpTYbHOomuM568yULuFY6C3Njy22xoFeEA1G9ZUIZ/s1600-h/jack+pirate3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 360px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 269px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423861471741245858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9L-8_m02uwHgvv_BaFqe-vOoeLNaltW2ZX3Y_RXdYhVhllaMxKIps4pO0shRznIT-_OVmPHERaSCpF5-p1ofk1rMWb8RIpTYbHOomuM568yULuFY6C3Njy22xoFeEA1G9ZUIZ/s400/jack+pirate3.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4TKyEeiRs7UwAfbAJjGm0oOfO56mDcTYB_mSONbh-q8MxgDA5Kd_XIWhGXJEIQyVHVRfHq1Sh39W1IkZ5Q4H-7HEeY7WHlxlFaxkM0EDcz-UDevWFj1gLZ8vSHEnBTyJz_id/s1600-h/jack+pirate1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 322px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423861211559948578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4TKyEeiRs7UwAfbAJjGm0oOfO56mDcTYB_mSONbh-q8MxgDA5Kd_XIWhGXJEIQyVHVRfHq1Sh39W1IkZ5Q4H-7HEeY7WHlxlFaxkM0EDcz-UDevWFj1gLZ8vSHEnBTyJz_id/s400/jack+pirate1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucSheyT9FJ1axSk44_xUYnquiOZSDzqt3nnCZUZfwbMjJOsNEjtFiFRZo2JEdzVk3KmDvzDk79J5f04krTYTYp4mLm7RPORpzf8qVgwSLhq50jgzZ-XUUXfqLkAlPyc7Ie7jR/s1600-h/2009+713.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423857829553351826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucSheyT9FJ1axSk44_xUYnquiOZSDzqt3nnCZUZfwbMjJOsNEjtFiFRZo2JEdzVk3KmDvzDk79J5f04krTYTYp4mLm7RPORpzf8qVgwSLhq50jgzZ-XUUXfqLkAlPyc7Ie7jR/s400/2009+713.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswtH6e8f6k_yF4iH1vV6LBMGvG4hKrnUUpQCGtWRulprlGxIWVvmyN5GqxrSSSkfc40wmMW2eSiLX_h1tpI2RyGVcZz6bLXkIrkKb4S2GQMY8p-KEZqHaFFblIrdd-ccM_hZ_/s1600-h/2009+710.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 283px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 209px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423857211839536898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswtH6e8f6k_yF4iH1vV6LBMGvG4hKrnUUpQCGtWRulprlGxIWVvmyN5GqxrSSSkfc40wmMW2eSiLX_h1tpI2RyGVcZz6bLXkIrkKb4S2GQMY8p-KEZqHaFFblIrdd-ccM_hZ_/s400/2009+710.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br />A week later it was Kirk's 40th birthday. He had to spend the day on campus for classes so I arranged to drive out to Glendale with the kids to surprise him during their lunch break. We brought him "lunch".<br /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIdLK7b53s4tzFb8QZySIGqj66kmKY6_Bb6CgExxAiybOoGpShMhmYR6_8uh98ODjE1IS0pXKDxQ3PqL3ZNEE6Lc5Tu-RTkCQeRIPsnw4b1y_JcsFJFk0gG0yBLB075ocYbl5/s1600-h/2009+727.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 322px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423859975721219762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOIdLK7b53s4tzFb8QZySIGqj66kmKY6_Bb6CgExxAiybOoGpShMhmYR6_8uh98ODjE1IS0pXKDxQ3PqL3ZNEE6Lc5Tu-RTkCQeRIPsnw4b1y_JcsFJFk0gG0yBLB075ocYbl5/s400/2009+727.jpg" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br />Last, but not least, Lauren turned 9. She thought it would be fun to have a cake that looked like an ice cream sundae. It was the easiest cake to make but one of the cutest I think.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK34RuVp8BR3Bt8zDPyXXDxH7nZLhptmpPPnTtjQv7Pc1FuT1UU18UukS6g7ROaIyz9NHrOfXFsheHM1vVqgvXKMcg_TeUtm_HXWZe6K29hT9oAqWxo6AQyZEYRBMdR3gPfMck/s1600-h/2009+777.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423858956232676786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK34RuVp8BR3Bt8zDPyXXDxH7nZLhptmpPPnTtjQv7Pc1FuT1UU18UukS6g7ROaIyz9NHrOfXFsheHM1vVqgvXKMcg_TeUtm_HXWZe6K29hT9oAqWxo6AQyZEYRBMdR3gPfMck/s400/2009+777.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ1QIecxC51y2T5L9mqm8RGTDtSaRG-oS_soO-N9zhzIDpa3YbnxKj1sY1oSGbs5xxhCr7F0J_0ZvnJXwu5U7Dqynlyq-WxLGgAa9kn76rv-4fgWKwj2d5EmTm6W2HY9p0pjw0/s1600-h/2009+784.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 245px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 388px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423859398375675314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ1QIecxC51y2T5L9mqm8RGTDtSaRG-oS_soO-N9zhzIDpa3YbnxKj1sY1oSGbs5xxhCr7F0J_0ZvnJXwu5U7Dqynlyq-WxLGgAa9kn76rv-4fgWKwj2d5EmTm6W2HY9p0pjw0/s400/2009+784.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Just around the corner is Ian's 3rd birthday...............</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-90506921831826596892010-01-06T21:12:00.019-07:002010-01-06T21:41:30.677-07:00Annual pictures<div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">Clearly you can see why I don't scrapbook.</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">Here are the kids annual pictures I took. Back in July. Just in time for me to take the annual 2010 shots.</span></strong></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423853186320875970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7HEH40Rtb1N2ciSPFxSP3MV6-AFlb8jcgJpjZFtekZKVyfbsVshoKKLrY1JaCksYaQPgN8KKGNgDkInJLe7Y5t_f2Wtk1_fn-MwFucDQE7-WzDNL9bbWOcb-mKCS_YrlgVmcb/s400/2009+264.jpg" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dgM0e4dxCe_Lj62FUMqf_X_igJEwZH3K_SwQbwa_IhplQie69e9xk0J5RzgpOCf6viQ7nFuVBOiLlUqtrYc3Ijt8Yq1J5YZHjeUqtNAJFaQp3Awk0FDEyy9bgXvXKe93AQLB/s1600-h/2009+293.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423850855593448226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7dgM0e4dxCe_Lj62FUMqf_X_igJEwZH3K_SwQbwa_IhplQie69e9xk0J5RzgpOCf6viQ7nFuVBOiLlUqtrYc3Ijt8Yq1J5YZHjeUqtNAJFaQp3Awk0FDEyy9bgXvXKe93AQLB/s400/2009+293.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBCtxIXt6UeHccz_56m8gct9cTLN5qB8P2guUuMBFUhEnwcO1TxJ_91f13zHuEhvp1_SqtlRByO310-Qo4Stzpb8L3YWxUvGPPqnkGNXsPPHph-ONAyDb9IdnkIhtxWtVP3Uu/s1600-h/2009+408.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423850650288030114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBCtxIXt6UeHccz_56m8gct9cTLN5qB8P2guUuMBFUhEnwcO1TxJ_91f13zHuEhvp1_SqtlRByO310-Qo4Stzpb8L3YWxUvGPPqnkGNXsPPHph-ONAyDb9IdnkIhtxWtVP3Uu/s400/2009+408.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG04uS8WU2ErbLiBIxxv7DFQ-b76wZvDA_VVhVGw4OQ_iotgR-qXF9DLyqFmmLhZhzQALudZ25VoECRyy3udLPGee7LT6TsqvTUdqo317oFlJQSMej-cpfUMocIZzFufSWE-MO/s1600-h/2009+217.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423849641610001474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG04uS8WU2ErbLiBIxxv7DFQ-b76wZvDA_VVhVGw4OQ_iotgR-qXF9DLyqFmmLhZhzQALudZ25VoECRyy3udLPGee7LT6TsqvTUdqo317oFlJQSMej-cpfUMocIZzFufSWE-MO/s400/2009+217.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGnr-He0N9YdZtr6oHs4H0J4NVMKHWJb8T352oRjYtMHgMlmZdGI5Fpbl7llEAVSPH1vEPojU74xA8iJq6akdrxtVi3pG24s-4HfKNtvGrlUIQzlSDHiEwrG5TIpnLm2wuBmU/s1600-h/2009+173.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423848953331165810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGnr-He0N9YdZtr6oHs4H0J4NVMKHWJb8T352oRjYtMHgMlmZdGI5Fpbl7llEAVSPH1vEPojU74xA8iJq6akdrxtVi3pG24s-4HfKNtvGrlUIQzlSDHiEwrG5TIpnLm2wuBmU/s400/2009+173.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkL6mx5CKjOPI6wbgUsv-pga_YBBwe883SGm6tqr0OKoIIjjz1CDvwtMnUyXkJOdhnOg6aofKPsVBSrlDW-har4CNkcVQHM6u84RKhF0okrpcRU6iviia6ic5uAxDMiddfV1y/s1600-h/2009+187.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423849137393533106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCkL6mx5CKjOPI6wbgUsv-pga_YBBwe883SGm6tqr0OKoIIjjz1CDvwtMnUyXkJOdhnOg6aofKPsVBSrlDW-har4CNkcVQHM6u84RKhF0okrpcRU6iviia6ic5uAxDMiddfV1y/s400/2009+187.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFerC2BuHF1Kb9FIJS5A8lPo1z3fi1F6ENw-ASdrlWQHJlT0uKt-drfG20ETethHNfRFj6DUlUssQecPmNZxHP2Gt0AsPKkEy34T8KVITXKJUeLjwrYw553TvXX_bfsvtlU-Q/s1600-h/2009+183.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423848802448579474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFerC2BuHF1Kb9FIJS5A8lPo1z3fi1F6ENw-ASdrlWQHJlT0uKt-drfG20ETethHNfRFj6DUlUssQecPmNZxHP2Gt0AsPKkEy34T8KVITXKJUeLjwrYw553TvXX_bfsvtlU-Q/s400/2009+183.jpg" /></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423848662834093170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3E3dJ2LmKV4xYrhj9I1UCvtnl_5DZ9rd-YMX00GG02xwWA3Pi0_kH0n83kReqQ4KFxkCuOL4qDr5SRIzMHxky5CMADt6RRg8Uany_BciYgvtBvoE9uy_dIUg6cqlqe41oAkQa/s400/2009+171.jpg" /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicN59RO5uRBqmRrErprL36NS9rE2kQQYSsu5xbhBJ932wNbladUuhrwx9zCAVNAOeftZuJJbHXWYLaEw6hmBK81Wyf6vkrFMowtUd7hg2_WdpW7oHc3hlGdhWhjhgWuNuTtjyz/s1600-h/2009+144.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423848508010548402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicN59RO5uRBqmRrErprL36NS9rE2kQQYSsu5xbhBJ932wNbladUuhrwx9zCAVNAOeftZuJJbHXWYLaEw6hmBK81Wyf6vkrFMowtUd7hg2_WdpW7oHc3hlGdhWhjhgWuNuTtjyz/s400/2009+144.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423848397505131634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreHDEs4CZzRkcdDF0NEGbCwPcCsMlbrptSfpu78XNyU8XZZu2mLwFlP-gplSzS3U2a02u_p_VSxLuue6VqQtdUXPV3upHHrYXv1jTkRDBLIFvhWzH5KVqClXQ6ZvRShovbAuC/s400/2009+146.jpg" /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckz6Y2UcXXKnECnuJFqnwyyvm_Cc7utdTJOGgVze5Z7cCIku-DQ1zchipuZfi80wX5FRK0h8VjI8qFOYEWk_GkORZRDdeF-ybjwtL9yATBFHfaKSQ0M4CHcNDF0F-Z-k8J1cd/s1600-h/2009+128.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423848083391138002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckz6Y2UcXXKnECnuJFqnwyyvm_Cc7utdTJOGgVze5Z7cCIku-DQ1zchipuZfi80wX5FRK0h8VjI8qFOYEWk_GkORZRDdeF-ybjwtL9yATBFHfaKSQ0M4CHcNDF0F-Z-k8J1cd/s400/2009+128.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXIDp29C-KcdkKkiRlnBLNHeBl86j5I9a1qhsoLcf8h1FMbbbT-gEJp_5I-dEkoPbvy_DDD3bCIxAMDotEFjwA78YGrj1fae1WH1MS_7SP9-DuQv60SUruUwXYquWwyX0Wkk3n/s1600-h/2009+129.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknfiBKCTeLmtI4EdbvO9jdtpCpO97512ucSmcqYhP2swM9eHC0AqAeLIhaZ0-vjew8D_swuZX1qcK00q_4wac6bf7kW1-OSStkm5hLYq3QqQ3zqnlKWXuFhg2ufmPk2bk9tqT/s1600-h/2009+120.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423847855555994834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknfiBKCTeLmtI4EdbvO9jdtpCpO97512ucSmcqYhP2swM9eHC0AqAeLIhaZ0-vjew8D_swuZX1qcK00q_4wac6bf7kW1-OSStkm5hLYq3QqQ3zqnlKWXuFhg2ufmPk2bk9tqT/s400/2009+120.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9W2vLtCoYANVcfKzSRtH-1LdvHpO8cnlscZPK8j37LwSg0Sqtdq9neLc3YakB_Zf_Q9ED2O9NwikuJL8L2XkuLc7ee4sWq_lRBMRiy7V1LJmCxi3ncnnVITlAwbpbtspVCXBz/s1600-h/2009+112.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423847736495954434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9W2vLtCoYANVcfKzSRtH-1LdvHpO8cnlscZPK8j37LwSg0Sqtdq9neLc3YakB_Zf_Q9ED2O9NwikuJL8L2XkuLc7ee4sWq_lRBMRiy7V1LJmCxi3ncnnVITlAwbpbtspVCXBz/s400/2009+112.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-67575501953534007592010-01-06T12:43:00.002-07:002010-01-06T12:53:24.444-07:00I'm ALIVE!!!!Has it really been since June that I last posted an entry here? Good grief. That's like a whole season of Survivor. <br /><br />But, I have an excuse. I've been busy fighting to get our country back on track. Aside from attending the multiple rallys and townhalls, I was also appointed as a precinct committeeman. I'm committed to leaving our country the way our founding fathers intended it to be....for my children.<br /><br />Aside from that, I've been busy with other things. Two kids had birthdays. Two kids started school. Two kids constantly torment each other. Most recently, dealing with a two year old in a body cast from his broken femur. (Post to follow)<br /><br />But, thought I'd let you know I was still alive and well. I have a lot of catching up to do.lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-4592864623743842792009-07-06T19:06:00.003-07:002010-01-06T21:12:08.111-07:00Film, Phone and FlatulenceKirk took the oldest three kids to see Ice Age 3-D the other day. I stayed home with my youngest assistant and tried to paint Jack's room.<br /><br /><br /><br />A few days later, Kirk said, "Did I ever tell you about what happened at the movies?" which of course is followed by my answering, "Uh, no. Do I WANT to know what happened?"<br /><br /><br /><br />I guess Kirk had his cell phone on "vibrate mode" as should ALL people when they attend a movie in a theater. At one point, Erik was getting restless and wanted to sit on his lap. Then Kirk's cell phone went off. You know that "vvv vvvvv" sound it makes? Erik also felt the vibration and when it was done, he said, "I tooted."lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-33148816846040772642009-06-11T21:40:00.010-07:002009-06-11T23:43:23.721-07:00Abu Dhabi ( A Boo Boo )<div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">My husband mentioned today that his Passport is about to expire. I thought, "What? Those things are good for like, ten years!" Oh. I guess it has been 10 years. Time flies when you have four kids I guess. I'm really hoping some day I'll look like I did in my passport photo from ten years ago....... </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">He likes to bring home cool trinkets from his global travels. We especially like to collect Christmas Tree Ornaments for our tree and have built up quite the collection over the years. Porcelain egg from Belgium. A wood carved snowflake from Finland. He has also brought home cool stuff for the kids like wooden toys from Germany, flying helicopters from Japan and toys from China probably heavily laced in lead. He also buys Hard Rock t-shirts because it's cool to have a shirt that says "Geneva", "Tokyo" or "Amsterdam" on it.</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><br /></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">He went to the United Arab Emirates for his MBA program a couple of months ago. He actually admitted to me that one day, he could see us living there. I reminded him how close it is to Iran <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346311531809592626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 166px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZPtJ5yC1wRNoPuJGyGOPvUbbgGXWD8YE_A9ezB3ogiFkMJOXp0elv8yOEQxRDQ4OSm1Q12cm-k9ycPJ095RfYVHwq3zVGeeqFjPN_QEIso3g1g6flmjqD0S2KOH5GkFDnImwu/s400/UAE.gif" border="0" />and that any missiles shot would fly over our heads. Not to mention any residual effects of a nuclear bomb. Wind does blow.........</span></strong></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">So when he returned from his travels, he showed us the cool souvenirs he bought. A couple of camels for the boys that played twangy, instrumental Arab songs I didn't recognize and wasn't too sad about it when the batteries died as well as a ceramic and jewelled camel for Lauren. Kirk bought himself a black Hard Rock Abu Dhabi t-shirt, a hat that says "Dubai" <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346316682711528578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9lpwk8OjYNggjdPE_GjCTEtev-6iWdvaprCPYeiEYQRM6tP86nCF-wn9Bn-NFT8swJV6ekHFrYOH81JS8n8njdcvoqHY0a_qEhO_GK-uEpvkwZ7Kh_uRQmR9xKVZBCJSvKHb/s400/abudahbi3.jpg" border="0" />and a traditional Dishdashah and Gutrah <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346316382212359762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGyXVdQW58QtciKueDyf8ajRKxLd_j1uaPbpsZGRqf_RfyrYsjNn8fnNAJ2fgOdVGqMgkmNuMvTfTFhPuDTbjzM-7bMWjoE_6MGS9aCmzqQuey8Q43Bk8xmIXAONlvpfA9ROYN/s400/abudahbi4.jpg" border="0" />which I recommended he NOT wear on the plane trip home. Kind of like how we have common sense enough not to say "Hi Jack" to our son while on an airplane.</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">He then showed me a cute little bag emphasizing the fact that even the UAE has embraced the "green" revolution.</span></strong></div><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346316563646083938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 359px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJD1qM0G6Dr4jqADIx5XQlz_c0iL8JzskEqm-4rhIXP57OPdrug3Vmc8ocxVQjNT6HqfHLgTfgmi-MEYubUcpOge084u3VFf0uUW3NPKb9GklH_T2bAwjSo50LN4_AZ2ORdffP/s400/abudahbi+5.jpg" border="0" /> </span></strong><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">And then he gave me this:</span></strong></div><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346316139707414050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwAgYCEOyObe1aBv_m9tJa6hSqtZ2z8LA6vlPC2c-HwKQveximNkePcVt-52oIflzMQdZxqEyrXcWZzJkhQHu3KOrZ-IUbC1wi5RaO6WOxPBnx_eLR1TmGjOw8cPiHA7WpOVuI/s400/abudahbi1.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">The first time I wore it, my three year old pointed out "Jesus" and "Heavenly Father". </span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">In my defense, it was a Sunday. After we had just returned home from church. </span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">And it wasn't until I wore it around the house one day that my husband commented to me that he can see why I wouldn't really want to wear it in "public". His Hard Rock shirt.....sure. It has a big flaming guitar with the word Abu Dhabi on it. Fairly innocuous.</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">A shirt with a couple of Arab guys laying around drinking next to a camel that has Arabic on it that could say, "Osama is cool" for all I know? Probably wouldn't be something I'd wear anywhere near an airport or touring Washington DC. I'm just thinking out loud here.</span></strong> </div><br /><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">He did bring me home a pretty 50g Credit Suisse gold bar.</span><span style="color:#cc0000;"> Probably my favorite souvenir yet.</span></strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346323598758322674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 86px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6SvR7q4Q_1l4cJ5PWjvVxjxXtUp4s-W9R_7lhrDL07TKRwIJW5wuv4UGqrr-N8xTVM7ujF5L870yMVlyp3VmOItLp7xWksaDJsizewRp892M2Ce0DFtbUcqBWu7aC_zLJMKJ/s400/gold+bar.jpg" border="0" /></p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-35552883729309538722009-06-01T22:12:00.000-07:002009-06-01T23:19:57.225-07:00Dog pile on Daddy!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPkfHlLySQ1hpbUaQD4GbnSmgdkw1N5MI6eLsvEBq6tSg3_BrUb_2Fbe6a_gCi2IZLpaNv3kBNHvr78aM4JYtg4ptkOCuXzewT4n_LUYtl7LpyellFMCEi1lPcHNh-ILf3t87/s1600-h/IMG_3848.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340738969824399586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoPkfHlLySQ1hpbUaQD4GbnSmgdkw1N5MI6eLsvEBq6tSg3_BrUb_2Fbe6a_gCi2IZLpaNv3kBNHvr78aM4JYtg4ptkOCuXzewT4n_LUYtl7LpyellFMCEi1lPcHNh-ILf3t87/s400/IMG_3848.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJlNOYBH4Y6YL6KnyCNynwKjSY815aFWEVGtj2SOtXghNIqcPlwx9UnWGyxJFLdyxPcfy2WT1ad0UOJOTjythHW1srMPyRsAHlTaxTOThlbLQBj2rga30MfK5QMgchbdO5lrMN/s1600-h/dog+pile.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340738852984584706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJlNOYBH4Y6YL6KnyCNynwKjSY815aFWEVGtj2SOtXghNIqcPlwx9UnWGyxJFLdyxPcfy2WT1ad0UOJOTjythHW1srMPyRsAHlTaxTOThlbLQBj2rga30MfK5QMgchbdO5lrMN/s400/dog+pile.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />It's all fun and games until someone gets their eye poked out.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340739709213365090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnftLu9oNOwQcYkVACPD3vxfgy4lkxO6jgGQAdBeZstBJ7u8FTF1Qa2uvVvas9qAEsZR1xbPPQdE6rwKIitWrTHzuc76-OqnelTJXrcFFscRqRLWxKELsJnHXCt9zZPk4oKH0/s400/IMG_3870.JPG" border="0" />Or a two year old puts you in your place.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340739530848687010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrwB8t3w4GxSkSmoKna6oDQVelNJR2TJh2OkiJhI_zZk_Ixm20kZubLC6SCILgg0LOcLt1zF-3uSEIlvaWlo5rrwcUVH_Br7h5C2iaJNiUTmhN-6RQrUswapcJ_vkOFoQwiMYb/s400/IMG_3872.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Because he wants to be dog piled on next:<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340739344437862930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtW41aS4yVtMwnVWMbNCqBpK21kbU_VXQ49lvbx-o7v7wob8qxW03SrgpLzTORHOlC3KKMhyoo1YKC2Swj9T2rW-opm0w8Ien9t9DqKggMuU9Csc46Q4UiF36B7OeYdnVuGghh/s400/IMG_3877.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-7577430084802352762009-05-25T21:48:00.000-07:002009-05-27T22:11:33.096-07:00HaPpY BiRthDaY ERiK!<div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Erik is four years old now! ( one more year until he starts school! But who's counting? )<br /></span></div><div><div><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340734109225970066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogGM4s_tOGTyBlM9ChDVHnvN7q3Z6W2LzicblvwlP4YnP-AE0-9gBg2usaXKwcr1btxH8S4tE3bF70hmQh4EYL0VHh336niw3O3L5LtzXdORLWVYZwFhcbI5Upsk-KceYh2Nv/s400/Erik+bday3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="color:#cc0000;">For his fabulous, fun fourth bash, Kirk took the older kids to BounceU to get out a little energy.</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340733309804647522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 322px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNyzmfEfUR1MHU3BfG4rqBUwmPNVJENX7bkU4i2lTLeflHQ5bWvR1qyBiMUGz_0oh0MrAjQvZK6BFwr49yQyEUTcRBV0wbQkXAqp6uwIt6fzpKg1GscQos1TcCXCYP7n9ZBf1/s400/erik+bday5.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div><div><br /><br /></div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340733476782872466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 274px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg11Xk1nqk9-egGwgVLkii2Jmt94ZqbXE-5ZhmbceqBq0qlYbC5hFxtDANmBlx6ZS8I8uF1-37esdqg658iKDliCmUm4QKdCdW6GZpnTxXv4GBUN1pfhCM5uOO2xkoTf3sKmP84/s400/erik+bday7.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340733669643554354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZIJfKhjY2sLxrviBHEVuJ8pah0NbFcW6hjhPhCnv4dexfpXWksNyoFAItEU1YjCGcxXtqAhNAJEQ5CPu88N7NQ9gWP58MxEZnOf_7wfQVR0rVmbLfdW9Pv0tktW8DRs0Bt0TJ/s400/erik+bday6.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Kid gloves? Glad we don't have these at home.</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340733140464325938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEciy7NH3lWFFNyufD8B1sqiUnH61poVuk0BpVuZhn33pBne0VN2eliHv2JD6V73zA6dtu75h4RbgE0tD0ZTAdWRrkR7-PRQPc3Cz9kWHVagSxuED8BlrrP-uC19ji6gu7FBtz/s400/erik+bday8.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#cc0000;">While they were gone, Ian slept and I worked on his Nintendo Controller Cake.</span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340735928205106866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4nPR4Uudp7xItBxpweKe5paP3rJRy7AK7yBo0OvcF0lHKLexuLv3oWoJ9K_p0njySgyACvlB3LmlsO1HDUIkFOR9N39vz4nH5ZTO_o1QUDwaRLtFr-hXiOZ6StNbFtASNxx5f/s400/Controller+cake+A.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p></p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340734263619255010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm2h8Wbv8eI8ougHYVfI21CfaFolM4aUWYlw0AUzr-w1L67wNIvLFlgQS95bJwOZw0CtXal63cv-hnOd6-f15v0NjBU3fG9YuYPEV_HEKqhG1g6hyphenhyphenImpdiuAbBTdh1LZuxVRvi/s400/Erik+bday2.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340734390947999314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1dTlP7oiCVUvWs1rEe8caNajWu48MS7FV9VJNn6_eB_9Op8nu16kPKrCvcLJMqR0CZKXtrHRY3dZngR4knZgr041Fn_e56LAgVzdks-u9MjCt5BHT3oKh9hMGdIHdg3uD_9b/s400/Erik+bday1.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340734505906603314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 386px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRqWyZsaAw6S1YcXD2F78wNQvdI774HqPsfCbsAmRDGYKeKRBfunMVIlmtChCrqFt7CEicgCbuFGDqQvGd50tOHlxO4lBqaaU_-pzZ82KJtK69uRpwQO-m6jMvizb-HLznUMib/s400/erik+bday4.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">Happy Birthday my little man!</span></strong></p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-31630674191811875472009-05-09T15:00:00.003-07:002009-05-09T21:47:24.670-07:00ode to moms<p align="center"><br /></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For all the cold meals you sat down to.</em></span></strong><strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em></em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For all those snuggling naps on the couch. </em></span></strong><strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em></em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For all the puddles on the floor that required a "smell test". </em></span></strong><strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em></em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For the plays/songs/skits/reinactments endured. </em></span></strong><strong><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em></em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For those clothes laying on the floor that were either clean or dirty. (see "smell test" above) </em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For the miles put on your car driving kids to daily activities.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For all the threats and time outs given.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;">For those moms whose hearts ache for their own mothers. </span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For those extra pounds that don't seem to want to go away.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For the times you went out in public with spit up stains on your clothes.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For those mothers who had a baby they won't be able to raise in this life.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For the many sleepless nights.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For those moms who went on a get-away vacation with just their husband but found themselves constantly talking about their kids.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>For the moms who learned what battles were worth fighting.</em></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"></span></em></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em>I salute you. I admire you. </em></span></strong><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"><em></em></span></strong></p><em><span style="color:#ff6666;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">Happy Mother's Day!</span></strong> </span></em><p></p><p><em><span style="color:#ff6666;"></span></em></p><p><em><br /></em></p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-53313500041254276052009-05-08T08:37:00.003-07:002009-05-08T08:49:10.591-07:00The difference between boys and girls<span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">From the time my boys could figure out the pincer reflex, they have loved cars. They love to run them on the floor, line them up in a row across the room and my least favorite, throw them.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">My daughter, on the other hand, has enjoyed playing with her "baby" dolls. She's very possibly a better mommy than I am. Lauren's favorite doll is "Katie". The doll's name has been "Katie" ever since her friend, Loaryn, gave it to her for her 4th birthday. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">This morning, Lauren brought down another doll she sometimes played with but not as much as "Katie". She couldn't remember if she had named this other doll and was asking me what a good name might be. Megan? Ella? Sarah?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">We didn't have a chance to finish the conversation before heading off to school. When I got home, Erik took the doll and was "playing" with it. By "playing" I mean taking it by the arm and swinging it around and throwing it up in the air. Then he said he knew the perfect name for the no-named doll.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">Really? What is it?</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">THUNDER BOLT!!! </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;">Apparently, Thunder bolt makes thunder to get the bad guys and eats Capt'n Crunch cereal for breakfast.</span>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-13756074228470287722009-04-21T11:14:00.004-07:002009-04-22T13:13:03.496-07:00I love President Benson<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehD390q9G3k&feature=player_embedded">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehD390q9G3k&feature=player_embedded</a><br /><br /><br /><strong><em>Brethren, if we had done our homework and were faithful, we could step forward at this time and help save this country. The fact that most of us are unprepared to do it is an indictment we will have to bear. The longer we wait, the heavier the chains, the deeper the blood, the more the persecution, and the less we can carry out our God-given mandate and worldwide mission. The war in heaven is raging on the earth today. Are you being neutralized in the battle?</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><strong><em>As important as are all other principles of the gospel, it was the freedom issue which determined whether you received a body. To have been on the wrong side of the freedom issue during the war in heaven meant eternal damnation. How then can Latter-day Saints expect to be on the wrong side in this life and escape the eternal consequences? The war in heaven is raging on earth today. The issues are the same: Shall men be compelled to do what others claim is for their best welfare or will they heed the counsel of the prophet and preserve their freedom? </em></strong><br /><p><strong><em></em></strong> </p><p align="center"><strong>Edited to add this link to a really good article:</strong></p><p><a href="http://www.ldsfreemen.com/connor-boyack/prophetic-political-silence.html">http://www.ldsfreemen.com/connor-boyack/prophetic-political-silence.html</a></p><br /><br /><strong><em></em></strong>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-81702002531959808822009-04-15T16:58:00.020-07:002009-04-30T08:25:56.102-07:00Tax Day Tea Party!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit3ORTa75jrYJ3zfgNsOlnqe39h15hUWjKNQrv5QCIuNg0Mpq97EYkmRtugzUbOT86pJZkFTU5SO-VZDEImF6OXjwc7bsNZJBs4KIhOY-zFr-NL_0zleBz5PPSNwdbgpSj_dQu/s1600-h/TP5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325144462347828290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit3ORTa75jrYJ3zfgNsOlnqe39h15hUWjKNQrv5QCIuNg0Mpq97EYkmRtugzUbOT86pJZkFTU5SO-VZDEImF6OXjwc7bsNZJBs4KIhOY-zFr-NL_0zleBz5PPSNwdbgpSj_dQu/s400/TP5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1lQMDrsGUCzoqrjEpJprOm5Ah_TpW3cFJBx24PKh4PusKtqpgxsMvgAcsnF-2RRjznYdPxW4C4AYMb_5STovpi35wU4hkNmNvlr31z7QDnyyX9oKDnU7pSYyv6NaaqfZ6H3K/s1600-h/TP1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325144127940528658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1lQMDrsGUCzoqrjEpJprOm5Ah_TpW3cFJBx24PKh4PusKtqpgxsMvgAcsnF-2RRjznYdPxW4C4AYMb_5STovpi35wU4hkNmNvlr31z7QDnyyX9oKDnU7pSYyv6NaaqfZ6H3K/s400/TP1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ql8SYazfaHNiOkpmwwJx8BZnarE5xdO3686mbhYYxTceJu2mb3tQG_nV8MNC7EvZmqr4qBxzf1MrNN3l1QmBN4sC6mytAZflnNb9vQVABaE72WFlP5NvWeag3yS-WALph6Tl/s1600-h/TP10.jpg"></a><br /></div><div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Yes. I'm a right-wing God-fearing, food-storage-stockpiling, gun-carrying, capitalist-loving , returning-Veteran-hailing extremist. There. I said it. Now that you know, let's move on with my teleprompter-free blog entry......</strong></span></div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7CszaGm4emtZHmlmqLtGhZoTDkGdNnMZbrDsxt6efR-EwXJQfX22Ty2dVnZtjfpRLwwXoviy3POcTD79K_YgWRvA2jBnYDUEpAHiiqv9WQMyc2hbDOXYEc9qp0Q8rGNi3l5N/s1600-h/TP2.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325144224597946914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7CszaGm4emtZHmlmqLtGhZoTDkGdNnMZbrDsxt6efR-EwXJQfX22Ty2dVnZtjfpRLwwXoviy3POcTD79K_YgWRvA2jBnYDUEpAHiiqv9WQMyc2hbDOXYEc9qp0Q8rGNi3l5N/s400/TP2.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><strong><span style="color:#000099;">I applaud those who feel "patriotic" by paying taxes. After all, Obama and Biden claim those who are wealthy can afford to be forced to pay more. Of course he's banking on the fact that no one will actually check their own tax returns to see that their charitable donations total less than 7% for Obama ( which is actually higher than his past contributions of 1-3%. He IS president now ) and less than 1% for Biden. I just wonder how "patriotic" these same people will feel when a couple of years from now, they will be paying 20%+ more in taxes, not to mention higher interest rates and massive inflation. </span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000099;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000099;"></span></strong></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000099;"></span></strong></div><div></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;">Ironically, this isn't a democrat/republican issue. For the life of me, I don't get why more liberals aren't up in arms over the spending seeing that they were complaining for the last 8 years over the money Bush spent. Especially knowing this new spending dwarfs any Bush did.</span> </span></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000099;"></span></strong></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"><strong>I felt like it was time to take a stand. I decided that I'm not going to be one who sits back and naively thinks there is no way our country would ever become Socialist. That is, until you wake up one day and realize we already are......</strong></span><br /></div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325311712895199778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 367px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_hcw3TK2zY6GBrRlTc6RTQzfjNoczu2lmW0LwmprlHfAGk_S_IPya6zM1g1k9KUuOTKfb4IMj-bxJIdLFmUhBRSVRrg6mJDtUQlMk8kMrn8KcRFYBnxyNc1cQCi9JylAYCTw/s400/TP10.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>So I made signs. Several in fact, because I couldn't decide on just "one". I even made some for my kids to hold ( GASP! Rachel Maddow would claim I "forced" them because I'm a recruiting radical extremist ). I made a point to explain to my kids what the signs represented and I took pictures so that my children will understand when they are older, that I did what I could to fight for their future and freedom. At the very least, they'll be able to say their mom was an "extremist".</strong></span> <span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>How cool is that?</strong></span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325144523606224738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESfpJuX2hX-40IJlkj0zsSdvcWh6VNALaYbwZIm7WkL-Y2vpXyXkjdFDPeA3wQOi-oIAaxdxz8yBGAfuSSxsy6wI8o4_HwieGVqVLL21mRHLhiRdvmEjoWOFWIXIF8E4u31mA/s400/TP6.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lFdGugywEqm91t5r6xuHidcN6dLGLKpaQ1rn7MrgMTSw7rdpwBC1G-Ut9EYXgnWodnjxwYBno2Q1jVGSEJOPgVL7A2yiTk-R1ZjxSYkDquwY92O4VNuJlKz3nSJkaMELFQ8p/s1600-h/TP9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325144603451618706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8lFdGugywEqm91t5r6xuHidcN6dLGLKpaQ1rn7MrgMTSw7rdpwBC1G-Ut9EYXgnWodnjxwYBno2Q1jVGSEJOPgVL7A2yiTk-R1ZjxSYkDquwY92O4VNuJlKz3nSJkaMELFQ8p/s400/TP9.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOP1v-toajrLnaVJjcdEeeA3qCAxeImzBXOYAV4fD0c08D82HSa2uiHQ2ky8sciVqj_4Y1-Jefb-uLq947SHXBzY5jTj4q425ZRSPiLmf5X_izFdo7VrUvCDJWHo7VaPc3G4y/s1600-h/TP8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325144665438346546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOP1v-toajrLnaVJjcdEeeA3qCAxeImzBXOYAV4fD0c08D82HSa2uiHQ2ky8sciVqj_4Y1-Jefb-uLq947SHXBzY5jTj4q425ZRSPiLmf5X_izFdo7VrUvCDJWHo7VaPc3G4y/s400/TP8.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"><strong>We went to the Gilbert Tea Party at noon and met about 1200 of our closest friends. It was so invigorating to see like-minded people with the same concerns, same values, same understanding that it's time to clean House ( and Senate ). I just wish I could have attended the one at the Capitol later in the evening. I've heard there is in the works, a march on Washington Sept 12 and another rally on July 4th.</strong></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>In the end, it felt GREAT to be a part of the beginning of something big. And in the words of Yamamoto after his attack on Pearl harbor: </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><strong>"I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve."</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Yes politicians. Yes you did. </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">"Never in the history of the world has there been a more profound need for leaders of principle to step forward. Never before, at least not in our generation, have the forces of evil been so blatant, so brazen, so aggressive as they are at the present time….<br />We are involved in an intense battle. It is a battle between right and wrong, between truth and error, between the design of the Almighty on the one hand and that of Lucifer on the other. For that reason we desperately need men and women who, in their individual spheres of influence, will stand for truth in a world of sophistry… We need moral men and women, people who stand on principle, to be involved in the political process. Otherwise, we abdicate power to those whose designs are almost entirely selfish.”</span> </div><div align="center">Gordon B. Hinckley</div></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-37107428225494102232009-04-11T22:53:00.003-07:002009-04-11T22:57:51.073-07:00HoPpY EaSTer!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3G3LskCbv8yWikHhVOqvcZgiu9_YtE1G9CAXJ-b-5jdwGjkEBs91WewRJ6Ts6GSuWETiDN1POYTI1qVgtH-MM3hjBHGCV5oawwc3lgxP8aSVCzg6arJrbkXCj3C3W3Xp4RH4y/s1600-h/easter+nest.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323679164636441186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3G3LskCbv8yWikHhVOqvcZgiu9_YtE1G9CAXJ-b-5jdwGjkEBs91WewRJ6Ts6GSuWETiDN1POYTI1qVgtH-MM3hjBHGCV5oawwc3lgxP8aSVCzg6arJrbkXCj3C3W3Xp4RH4y/s400/easter+nest.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Easter Egg nests:</span></strong></div><div align="center"><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;">7 ounces marshmallow creme <br />1/4 cup peanut butter , creamy<br />1 3/4 tablespoons butter , melted-<br />2 1/2 cups chow mein noodles -<br />1 cup Peanut M&M candies</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span></strong> </div><div align="left"><br /><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;">Directions<br /><br />Add the marshmallow creme, peanut butter, and melted butter to a mixing bowl and beat until evenly mixed.<br />Add the chow mein noodles to the creamed mixture and stir in by hand. Stir mixture until the chow mein noodles and M&M's are coated evenly.<br />Using a heaping tablespoon of the mixture, drop a mound onto a lightly buttered cookie sheet. With buttered fingers, form each mound into a rounded shape and make an indent in the middle to make them look like little nests.<br />Add Peanut M&M's to each nest to make them look like they are filled with eggs. Set them aside to allow them to firm up before serving. </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#cc33cc;"></span></strong> </div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-44068912498669993172009-03-27T22:13:00.007-07:002009-03-27T22:27:51.329-07:00What happens<div align="center">When you give your child cough medicine then try to play hide and seek.......... </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318103481193802674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVox9FqjjxMNh5thr2XIG_0jvsdvVyAFtZpD9f5dF5FoaWqLR05mJiDBxHOqXchRSaBumo_RIgalvAv4ROZvZvUItEBMQzccvLZwmBIFlBW2UzRcyWAkzQgoIwFTOxDiY48SBg/s400/IMG_4816.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="center">I think he was out by the time he got to 7.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Then what happens is mom has to take a picture of his plumber's bum.</div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318103533028197762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK_v_jCD84H7e0nzv4HpVOdT6OY_-x_dXOTKNlRYqwlouGoIAbvkinVmoQIGq6ygJZ7NxFarx4LhVH9uooyOvcCwVs_s7xB1blLc0PXzOqE4xcW7RP9zEthy8rIxUWTmTs1rRH/s400/IMG_4818.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center">I know. No dignity.<br /></p><div align="center"></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-79620986729567343252009-03-21T21:57:00.001-07:002009-03-27T22:13:14.184-07:00Happy Birthday Ian!<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho7x-2cG9zIV9yDvD01YcmKGc_PYCvgdASFI9hKXvXPAIDraXPrPxNMyvLG-28Qn6GGEa8w5zILzKZbQrPthAiIdimgs4VXxxYIQLNdm8fhWhsxAgMJmr2HcJ5wLsS4HUV4v0e/s1600-h/IMG_3204.JPG"></a><span style="color:#990000;">Ian turned two on March 21st.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#990000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">And his favorite word is "No'.</span><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318098595109820066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFXv6a1zEFHrfRwj4NLQmCjL_zQq2cmGr9gOoNKg-klhVNccIL0iUKRxln9pLDTyj6vase9dsA2AylNFjyKpGmUA-3I6ezFR22GO_q_N1zGQ-jEmxiJWLZmhcI5SJUeONLp4B/s400/IMG_3183.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><span style="color:#990000;">I felt bad that I couldn't make his cake this year with my ankle surgery and all, so we resorted to a girly Costco cake instead. Contrary to how he looks in this picture, I don't think he really minded the purple and pink flowers.</span> </p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318099081849507490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg78scs6Y38lvSxDicstOVVBX04fhG1yqG9X8mXO0eMgrOdrGC82VkrOTAyVNDIFxZszGq9_2EWl1gvfWjSjoIx91Kk2BqGsrlX9jgPRMZhhg1k8U6fhPpNABIJo2_HGTa0rzRx/s400/IMG_3179.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318099336486053186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxY_OA2d-1up7CkoQ4Or5mwVKjfj_43Cdb1FBIPOvntZRpVzeDZf8-Bw2VyYNCah-NduZXuAyxk6udoFjOS9r9a01QKxvxCGVS-TaK7-egI3pBs2zohbPRZCT4drxCCb3RG_q/s400/IMG_3189.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#990000;">We thought we'd try to redirect his throwing capabilities by buying him a mini basketball hoop.</span> </div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318099726627484418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi235zYsMqO_IwFzkS24LPX43fvNEUvegxHxMMxuZcKs8E2iqUuiEvqD46IxgxfobceWy-NFLUAZB_5CnpJu_H2yRQd4kw3ywIrPnvX_5MC5wBU8rwtfWH7ugvvk8NKM3jSniUX/s400/IMG_3202.JPG" border="0" /></p><p></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">Did I mention his favorite word is "No"?</span></p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-10676686854181453902009-03-11T09:40:00.004-07:002009-03-11T09:45:10.815-07:00Wordless Wednesday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjjlQsIVPCD_bbiYkoqc7uahC7WIyTKxrKjU1wQ_dbUe01Nw572Ao6O2ERYaYIelaFi70f5goaSYKaX2rSCZZi0ZT5IfSRyRy1McXxB2nCtrTVcmRMp7rMDf4bMfSVkDVKAai/s1600-h/IMG_3117.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311972064237952930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjjlQsIVPCD_bbiYkoqc7uahC7WIyTKxrKjU1wQ_dbUe01Nw572Ao6O2ERYaYIelaFi70f5goaSYKaX2rSCZZi0ZT5IfSRyRy1McXxB2nCtrTVcmRMp7rMDf4bMfSVkDVKAai/s400/IMG_3117.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6V8pVhzDbniKtYp9_U_f9iK49vIPgXe3SlhxzhEqNt8fT0Vj2HspJBkfM0h3IXNNEoPf9T2cO97ru2WVKBIKUtrLgiDXzgQY2UrWLUKm70N-Z5L8_WIKxQiNs5dQQWtjK4NIP/s1600-h/IMG_3110.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311971742946163730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6V8pVhzDbniKtYp9_U_f9iK49vIPgXe3SlhxzhEqNt8fT0Vj2HspJBkfM0h3IXNNEoPf9T2cO97ru2WVKBIKUtrLgiDXzgQY2UrWLUKm70N-Z5L8_WIKxQiNs5dQQWtjK4NIP/s400/IMG_3110.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311971896293305922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkY_t7UGCkIBd-NBa4sljtUR3w_aV2TCsueyZhscXcwpsjq6GJUnGXToM27-NvXX8cjWIZMMquDF-UBGU5XFps-S11a4696WRPtM6xaP33VdH7lWyIvWUk1WD7d_cqj9-TVz1/s400/IMG_3112.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div></div></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-13017377990577538792009-03-02T22:52:00.013-07:002009-03-05T19:38:47.210-07:00Getting old<div align="center">Not just my age. A few other things that are getting old:</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#990000;">1. My gray hairs. And realizing I have a lot more than I thought after taking a picture of my head from above. Dang.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#990000;"> </span></strong><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309062491626296066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 377px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1K2jqoXceQBTDy8JJcdXIFl3jsfKcY1rF2fhvjZM2VfzUupbdVaamgTcbh32BY2rv7waERSXg4_Idn_xMblcYDN3h5uL6c_Bti8LQsMKcmbaAoZAT9bYZ3gCiZYRapPOFJaXA/s400/gettingold2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#000066;">2. The bear stock market. This also includes the monthly drop of our 401k causing my need for more chocolate consumption.</span></strong><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309064301649660578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 394px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSz4T-p_VYomxQCIUK94E2D92YqqNkbH8s7X8umJ4N9ehxA-Ut-U6hfcGaaW3SL-_GljW_KSKL-gPBg4FJF9v0dVfYzlRkkf__XkGUkbL3bF2qBoU7KETlwL3lv9RaVZQRn6-/s400/dow+jones.bmp" border="0" /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#006600;">3. This child's constant screaming.</span></strong></div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309066081207596370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfrlJLJnQxPFtYpqN8MqxUZ4jbQRjDaOOelq8_ZyuS5j_LMQaVwYn2sCT5mjbxxrRVPzpjnIHMKE7B_P8y75JO3lVMR4gkSNG1oM-HWglUFklHbUrx6Zk5cVX8ZXfff3Gy4u_/s400/gettingold3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">4. This:</span></strong><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309062361024459250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVRNL-1CiIv2AVZIWp5W5VzdF8lHH3SG-5KNaDZtWNM7U1G6T31DtcS0a_wARyRNUzyIChyBX3dOZ6jJc-7UG7SgXUlSvPK_BNcz7zm7fm3LMTpjycQir-ogmKrjRHcSBuBUyq/s400/gettingold1.jpg" border="0" /> </div><br /><br /><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">and this:</span></strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309062276449338882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjh9AH4Pgzf1dbwerBIZilqRDAIJhkzxjCDVJqQVgaBpqu6lPwMFUagaSatNrW46i74-_U1SO_FjAKCudJLl_DJl5ZBsXCdBf3fecOH9mDUDVBpkZUo93OuSi9gH9QgFJnbMz-/s400/gettingold.jpg" border="0" /><strong><span style="color:#993399;">And not being able to take a shower:</span></strong></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309080013176697698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjLKlP6931Krpg2uK7IMhrgV9NryKaqnN7L4Z3G5Fwa9GZwPRMaE9qObJ680dF5JQAJXKiRmcGo_krd_7QHHMwmGQO2W7wZCEaqDdGULLbHqexZm-8hY5dOfyAjwi0KpVVVDPE/s400/bath2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">5. 85 degrees in February/March. Sick and wrong.</span></strong><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309064815253680402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 79px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIdA2_Z0LdLSb6Ji7Ua6uN4eTmDinwTyASsn2Hthpwn3_Rv2Tc2GFwwixeyhI81QtZC7_kHfNWsXWhLEYFQZYWl8irqZN0nGgGHS-a0bKAExX6OSM4fqMRAyB9NhbEq8y-25ht/s400/85+degrees.jpg" border="0" /><br /><strong><span style="color:#000000;">6. The word "transparency".</span></strong> </p><br /><p align="center"></p><br /><p align="center">And finally....</p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#6666cc;"><strong>7. Tatiana del Toro </strong></span></p><p align="center"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309577276093356274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 153px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyNUfpMvhhxAHNLKa0P-sWnk8vAlfKObqovwHvr8-BudZxeK656evlpEv6JNilhaEhhRpLOCk8ipwncDTLr7OTb_VxiD_FF4jDTdH3WiZ6l8cKfs1WjE2-j1BUYIgsnK4XQ1QG/s400/tatiana.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#6633ff;">Don't know who I'm talking about?</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#6633ff;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CzwqwTMvvU&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CzwqwTMvvU&feature=related</a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CzwqwTMvvU&feature=related"></a></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-5176738286764519462009-02-28T00:37:00.007-07:002009-03-01T17:44:53.454-07:00FieldtripKirk and I were enjoying some adult conversation time we had penciled in on the calendar the other night after we put the kids to bed. <div><br /><br /><div></div><div>As we were talking, we saw out of the corner of our eye, something fluttering down to the ground from the upstairs followed by quick footsteps as we heard the perpetrator run away.</div><br /><div></div><div>Curious, Kirk went over to see what it was. Then trying to contain our laughter read:</div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></strong></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307960026787708786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJRuJsQaLy3Rt4MgYYISgPazH6HCDrWpylfTxzFnNmr3Zg42pGGfboGy7TQ4a64lqDlL425-sYhhuThOCp_yWg3vzY6bR8b_-Mge3SsK8ZJ7bFs5YXMqIXRxoqEoyO6Xe-pjp/s400/fieldtrip1.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Not exactly what I was expecting since most of the recent notes my daughter has left me said something along the lines of "I want a dog. Please reply." Which is followed by a note stating I already have four kids. </div><div></div><br /><div>We both quietly laughed and then I sat there actually thinking I wasn't really SURE why they call it a field trip if you don't go to a field. So, I tried to make something up that she might believe. Much like my parents telling me years ago that my hair would fall out if I kept twirling it. </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307960131475814130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWO2ZNXCSmOpJShNX1o3OSsoxA-b8cYKszJfm-HGxyb0JSN6Dg2g_ZEhoCttvlGw6eqMYq8PXjUZntetj9nHX9kiXZv7neComyZaRJDmEd8r1Hh29sA-TkLB3fXAtFvvn9Om7w/s400/fieldtrip2.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><br /><p>I told her she needed to take a fieldtrip to her room...........</p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-32730564086425987222009-02-15T20:42:00.012-07:002009-02-15T22:34:10.864-07:00Miss me much?<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></strong><span style="color:#663366;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I KNOW!!! It's been forever!</span></strong><br /><br />I have some pictures to show what I've been doing for the last month or so. Just so you know I haven't been slacking.</span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;">I went in for my ankle tendon reconstruction surgery on February 2nd. Groundhog day. </span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;">Here's what my ankle looked like right before heading off to surgery. We made sure to use a sharpie to mark which foot to operate on:</span><br /></div><span style="color:#663366;"><div align="center"><br /></div></span><span style="color:#663366;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303241996330397042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSziHC3OgmX-UsiciYyngoxOG432MtdeFIZMw8SvjxRLR1ftQTI9eMaDU31j2wO5vAZmJ25np3gDtZzHcyjQ09yajj7ysv4aqFocO2pR7HuPh6ALfEni0jSKrsHJPWT9WzgpMX/s400/ankle1.jpg" border="0" /> </span><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;">And what it looked like afterwards in the splint:<br /></span></div><br /><span style="color:#663366;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303242124933877970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrDzotT1kDVFJSjrkLIdzKA_va4nPOGIWVzFgmbOpZo4C2F4A5CUdNBkSwd7Od-wlh_U1wBDQ39tWIJxGchDBNJE5PyAeYPhQVaQyX26nZygkW9B-BD163De-PCyjlKo1Ax3g/s400/ankle2.jpg" border="0" /><br />Lucky for you, I couldn't find my camera the day I went back to Dr. Doogie Howser to remove my splint and get my ankle casted. It was the nastiest, gnarliest, hairiest, smelliest, stitched up bruised piece of gross I've ever seen. The Dr. said it looked really good. Figures. I thought it looked like he attached someone else's foot.<br /><br /></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#663366;"><strong>WARNING: If you are eating, you might want to put down your food at this time. </strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><strong>Too much information ahead.</strong></span><br /><br /><br /></span></div><span style="color:#663366;">See, with this particular surgery, they made a 2 inch incision up at my calf to stretch/repair my tendon to my calf muscle. Then there is about a 6 inch incision from just above my ankle to the middle of my arch. This is where they took a tendon from my big toe to repair my torn tendon just above my ankle. Then I have a 2 inch incision on the outside of the foot at an angle that goes from the bottom of my foot to the back of the foot which is where they went in and broke my ankle bone and moved it about 1 cm so it was more "under" my body. Lastly, I have a small incision on the back of my foot where they placed about a 2 inch screw to hold my ankle bone in place.<br /><br /></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#663366;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">I KNOW! Nasty!</span></strong> </span></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><span style="color:#663366;"></span></div><span style="color:#663366;">I went last Friday to have the splint removed and put in a non walking cast which means crutches for the next four weeks. While I was at the Dr. I mentioned that my calf has been in a constant knot for about a week and is the most excruciatingly painful thing ever. He was concerned I might have a blood clot so he sent me downstairs to another office to get a STAT ultrasound. Unfortunately STAT to them meant at least an hour wait. Little did they know those were the WRONG choice of words to say to my Doctor dad who promptly told them where to shove it. We left and went to the emergency room at a hospital close to home. They did an ultrasound which luckily showed no blockage in my veins and no clots. The young lady who did my ultrasound commented about how it was nice that I had "skinny" legs because it made it easier to see the veins. LOVE HER! We got out of there just in time for the Friday night freak show.<br /><br /><br /><br />I'll be honest. Along with the grossness of it all, the recovery has been, truthfully, the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. Worse than my regular birth or 3 c/sections. Worse than my two kidney and gallbladder stone attacks. WAY worse. The first few days, my Oxycontin and Percocets weren't even touching it. Add to that my calf muscle in a never ending charlie horse and having to watch the downhill slide of our country since Obama took office, I've been pretty miserable.<br /><br />About 11 days after the surgery, I was finally starting to feel like I was making progress. I've ventured from the bed to the family room where I see the same view, day in and day out.<br /></span><br /><p align="center"><br /><span style="color:#663366;">The view in front of me with my cool "Suns" colored cast and sexy blood clot reducing sock:</span></p><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303242221550876818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuksekdHjwPJNErriAO5LR_al2HpiNRqnGnxqrtTbmpLvnLe9Vsjbu97YLOAKS5URepOEPSZdNFH4h3KZwr7swqYtnEeXkUTMyWfEbc_QhtLC7YZUlXuwgX-Z_z4d-JpaQxgC8/s400/ankle3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#663366;">The view to my left:<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303242716366894674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAfF0QlUO9Tbe6K7j4YxYq_PAxIB-dXuNjuhyARf8Z_SZ4XLQAtGRWl7o8T4ZCpUTQsbcg-6dlvbNT9AoEbJo1gW0Ttt6SpOCgJRq0AXeM8mXYYESyA7035w-JeDUFpKlFMBm7/s400/ankle5.jpg" border="0" /> </span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#663366;">The view to my right:<br /></span></p><span style="color:#663366;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303242843755901458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRNoridMgQysBvmznklQxb_8bQd6j3aFSVQbXzDEWPJpFcaOSxS_AXOlqTeFP21lhPJ6-bxXBUfRCIEU0l5etVB8ctYghnl3njm4bf_qYQxCu5ChjdxQutZ_zBN8FgYoyNwdO/s400/ankle6.jpg" border="0" /> </span><br /><p align="center"><br /><span style="color:#663366;">The view right next to me:<br /></span></p><br /><p><span style="color:#663366;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303242973681459618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NR3BbL3RocrywseWfsb1kRXWenddsy7JSp10jhz147I-WYkgJaZgvonE-zTLtpQ0CQ6kq5v0Bof6xDHqUBSHcygA18rWt-8wi8gtHuLv-qVp3A_qSyyqCYm1TpHJSUQpvjmQ/s400/ankle7.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><p><span style="color:#663366;"></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#663366;">And what I've tried to avoid climbing on me: </span><span style="color:#663366;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303242401807589330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGe4emRxx-GJ_mnFWp0X8zEd4onMNa884KdexikYWkAuon_MdgCLwPcf0PHiwDpqgdqfpByyWMwAifzlkz2l5sbcm6JlNc1_wC2Osoe0_RSpNyMbFtcQyeuor03uy5vet6mCYx/s400/ankle4.jpg" border="0" /> </span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#663366;">My office/nest/laundry room:</span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303258541712857410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nv0me7oX8ztdrLZHxtJuXQ36Dyu9_qNHwIctx44IcE5nB2W6KCpeftG0PbNE3spBoEhTwOZNuDCw9Mz7x3RxC0sOAMenmlwfxIJfqx09X1LKXRKZI6JT5GaaarMzIgfZ8GwE/s400/ankle+blog.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#663366;"></p><p align="center">After the cast comes off, I'll be in a walking boot for six weeks then I'll start physical therapy. </p><p align="center">I can't wait to shower again. It's the little things you take for granted.....</p><p></span><strong><span style="color:#663366;">The moral of the story is: One should only attempt to do laundry at their own risk.</span></strong></p><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#663366;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#663366;"></span></strong></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-61062833536222023632009-01-21T21:52:00.007-07:002009-01-23T12:10:37.460-07:00100 Day School CelebrationI have a smart son.<br /><br />Today, Jack showed me his 100 day celebration artwork he made at school. He was proud of his 100 boxes of M & Ms he declared he could "eat" and I laughed at his wit when he drew a picture of what he will look like when he is 100 ( a mound of dirt and a gravestone ).<br /><br />Then, with enthusiasm, he showed me the picture of what he wanted the most. 100 toys to go with the 100 bedrooms in the house with our 100 kids.<br /><br />Come again?<br /><br /><br />I laughed. He was serious. I think..........<br /><br />I told him I know we already have "100 toys" because I seem to be the only one who knows how to pick them up. I then tried to break it to him very gently that we would not have 100 kids let alone a 100 bedroom house.<br /><br />I was impressed with his optimism when he said we already had 4 kids so......<br />"We could have them in sets of two. No....TRIPLETS! No WAIT! Uh, Mom.....what is 'four'?"<br /><br />"Quadruplets?"<br /><br />"Yeah! Or you could have them five at a time!"<br /><br />"That's quintuplets honey. And six would be sextuplets and seven <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">septuplets</span>!" You learn these terms when you grow up in a family with multiples. Anything more than "twins" is considered a swear word and you may be struck down for even suggesting such things.<br /><br />His eyes grew bigger and bigger with excitement as he anxiously danced around actually believing this was all possible. I wasn't prepared to have a birds and bees talk with my six year old with Dora blaring in the background. I just told him I was too old to have 100 kids then continued......<br /><br />"And eight would be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">octuplets</span>! And after that, I have no idea what it's called. Insanity maybe?"<br /><br />Here I was thinking this was just a fun little math lesson until I realized he was really serious. So I asked him who would change all of those stinky diapers?<br /><br />Being the smart, quick-wit child, he replied, rather quickly I might add, "Lauren can!"<br /><br />I heard a stunned, "HUH?" in the background then got the impression Lauren wasn't too thrilled with this plan.<br /><br />Jack then said, "Yeah! Lauren wants to learn to change diapers." And then he was gone..........<br /><br />Told you he was smart......lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-31456973143552571262009-01-18T13:12:00.017-07:002009-01-19T22:44:21.648-07:0010th Anniversary at Disneyland<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">We had a GREAT time! And note to self.........never EVER go to Disneyland again unless it is in the month of January. And while our anniversary technically isn't until April 1st, we figured we'd take the opportunity to go now since I'll be immobile when our real anniversary comes around.<br /><br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">We stayed at the Grand Californian Hotel right off of California Adventure. This was the lobby:<br /></span></div><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734708111301938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFY7gq8_vHXo47doOsxGoseosFrGjeoWu3wzVjP3kbHvk_6PMXP6msFCG7GVa8ueFDyVS5g0CyyC_FLlWje-LN4gPKP8_0C2vgI4X4kwctoLHQLbEHlKUWsB_oBtvCqCxUA3jD/s400/anniversaryC.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">And this was our view of Downtown Disney:<br /></div></span><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734813416878722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXfUxCyHp3mSu0fHubFhBENNZ79808C9EErqQg96DHtoerx0MXikAPoHIwUGz2athibOOOPRXt74lJ6-XgyNoE1t9OPEMhq1qVek8-sKnbjTxmC60qMqUq-2DtG5RCng2uBa2/s400/anniversaryE.jpg" border="0" /></span> <p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;"><br />And this dude from the ESPN restaurant, I swear, was Drake's twin:<br /></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">In either case, they are both in need of a serious haircut. It was a crack up to watch him make his finger gestures I'm guessing directing people where the nearest exits were...... </span></p><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734942855377954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnmuKQgJjyf1t0Faz0fYlhti4N42H1bVCrmK_ocyM6Cjpf5mC9z9y3uCAkjDZiiEHrSgod6lXCVFk8MEm1xsKk_ULfKOCAoc467ykYFrlHzwACF3G1OhAPg817DZp-fwDwQyae/s400/anniversaryB.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">This is us right before our River Rapids ride. I was the lucky one to get the most wet and my hair wasn't the same the rest of the day:<br /></span></p><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734872685124002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTOBXNEEMDHEN4NT8_vS-H6slO_a3xjYB_KO6Kfk2_mOrHo8yvYHAxyd6VmwCdPwXqkhAiLt78dxFgVGceoJSAfCc2JTL1FA9BvjVR_Z-CEelPk5Z7OHIewBHUk7GFb0OTuXa/s400/anniversaryF.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">Trying to get a shot of Main Street USA:</span></p><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734758203980642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wKyJuajQciXhguunA7T6AiAvn1QmBxX_zH5NfmE_kDQigIPAu4Ntd8bUC6idQ1HZPDgqL0jkFwP-zfTWxS7KNpiLj5HnOMQfDyXJOhyA27OY_gt_Lnh4FhhSqZtQYFAi6rph/s400/anniversaryD.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /></span><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">Until a nice lady came along and offered to take it for us:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734618944664914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDrallSp4lYtPlNb_olOn3aITpVFyoou2ZVq6lUX1xToYvrkTbAC6L9tJtY-CudzLVPUbYJunocGdipCcHymU83nWjP2IgVRikgQzpDJPL43CV4t6BXU95uPMM2c1qpKdwRUp/s400/anniversaryA.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">I think we spent the most time on the Toy Story Mania ride. Kirk got the third highest score on one of our days there. I was ranked #5 on the Buzz Lightyear ride with my lightening fast laser speed action: And no, there is no shame in beating scores of the two year olds in line. If they can't stand the heat.....maybe they ought to stick with the Dumbo ride. </span></p><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292737364899121986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipK-wX4DOOlx3gOras91SVUxOL9r1rMWlfBKK60ugsjowOGS9OG3HxqDLVZVIca-jfmyL15zNoEX1qQM4pSXsnRIKtvjRXTlD_z1ssxBAhB7JSwP8kmUgU3W1ZdwcNeZ0utxSg/s400/toy+story.jpg" border="0" /></span> <p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;"><br />I got one of these:<br /><br /></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;"></span></p><p><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292738225872663938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 183px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbCoUiLzDe4ilnym3f2VXPDZnmpQsUhc6LGLi8AHG9QC41dgtWdPq8GUtXlYSj_wkjY26rvmA5BoQ-NeGWgBMnG2HVjaGVVnc3Ek-woDCMVOVqyBBC74aSn4ZVfsCIL3HvWX27/s400/spa.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">While Kirk played Toy Story Mania with the dude who holds the high score. He got a few pointers then tried to hide those pointers from me until I pointed out that he looked like a cat with a canary in its mouth. He spilled a couple.......I'll share one with you: If you pop all of the balloons in the clouds together and within the same time, rainbow balloons will fall down worth 2000 points each. Just so you know.....<br /><br /></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#990000;">We had a lot of fun. It wasn't long after we got home and heard the first set of whining and complaining that we were shocked back into reality again. At least our Cokes are cheaper in the "real" world.......<br /></span></p><p><span style="color:#990000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292734562021618050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKFSBIyiMJoigiQlVo8TZDxDDgYK62pkx04a4s8WKwZi2TNoLvWj7lBnxeb9IOm-H1bWheCeFXgyZT7ewBW4_VQZtVxOuXylfxikQ0lGmJEjHnPdC7DHkeLIvgquG8Tj1nsTR/s400/anniversary.jpg" border="0" /></span></p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-1050301389594392362009-01-16T19:37:00.006-07:002009-01-19T22:44:56.930-07:00I Don't have time for this!<div align="center">I really need to be careful what I do and say around the kids. </div><p align="center"><br /><br /><br />The other day, I was frustrated that Erik couldn't get his act together when we needed to be out the door..... like yesterday. This, by the way, is typical. He wouldn't get dressed then when he did, it was slopped on by his semi-nutritious breakfast of Cinnamon Toast Crunch which meant going upstairs for a new outfit just to later discover he also didn't know where he put his shoes. Typical. And being typical, the typical response by myself is, "I don't have TIME for this!"<br /><br />So, what does my three year old say to me when he didn't want to stop playing his video game? "MOM! I don't have TIME for this!"<br /><br />Ok. I deserved that one.<br /><br /><br />The night before Kirk and I were leaving for our 10th anniversary get-a-way, I was doing laundry. That's not the typical part....... I was also trying to get little kids ready for bed. Typically, I throw their pj's over the stairs railing if I'm not quite ready to go downstairs that way they will be waiting for me when I am.<br /><br />Typically, this trick works great. Not-so-typically, my youngest caught me and thought he would "help". The contents of a clean and folded basket ( sometimes typical but usually not ) were thrown over the railing.<br /><br /><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292088169992308178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2K2Cf44NgfEP8vcraEQNgm9wrpAVfwRaRSTGEQ60a1VT0XIGuFgiw4S66Rjy1O_AKa-Ks1vnYVfDe4Y8hSZg2uqrAHF8bEYhyydr3UCLGafAe8PZHBLBEvI8skQ7iAANal95L/s400/IMG_3057.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292088439165828066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qXzGxWCvNbeUiUE-JnO8ZKxqlGwi5ILTWIXHNP4CNkjOcuP7IdQafRAs8arVGg5pgHXDpB2g2qTG3teohd0__WduSsRuA_neqmj8tNrJnIJ6uSrZpwjsm-uCej_iJXCPSsPG/s400/IMG_3060.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><br />And typically, I had to get a picture so I could blog it. My second most popular phrase? </p><p align="center">"Not HELPING!"<br /></p>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-47803223411563220182009-01-03T22:13:00.004-07:002009-01-05T21:52:11.127-07:00Things to remember for next Christmas1. Pay someone a million dollars to cut out the toys from their obnoxious, over-kill packaging.<br /><br />2. If no one takes me up on my million dollar offer, be sure to at least wear gloves and keep naughty words to a minimum.<br /><br />3. Don't put out my cute, breakable Christmas decorations.<br /><br />4. Teach Ian that glass ornament balls are not to be used for throwing.<br /><br />5. Buy more ceramic glue to fix said broken decorations.<br /><br />6. Hide fudge from Erik.<br /><br />7. Outside lights really aren't a necessity. Candles in the front windows work just fine.<br /><br />8. The kids don't like mint flavored hot chocolate. Freaks of nature.<br /><br />9. Karaoke machine from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Craigslist</span> = huge hit. Must buy more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">CDs</span><br /><br />10. Ignore Christmas <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">etiquette</span> by leaving decorations up past Valentine's Day.lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21898802.post-82888355089837170502008-12-20T10:21:00.001-07:002008-12-20T10:23:59.178-07:00Merry Christmas!!!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"><strong>See you again next year!</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281924100219082658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 402px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 296px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0hexPoqRXrPgt3CihRs55pMTJziz3wjZdanPNUGpEXrbfsCN5iWiXofyf6FhQXVmzilgiaXtdNTAIcrrbKEbquj6CH2DyXDpBrMtQHS5LTxoyclSh917qd-vrnHZufZtrExJb/s400/christmas+2008.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></div>lackrikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10288849222129136477noreply@blogger.com3