tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229031332024-03-06T22:57:40.239-07:00The Rupe FamilyJoshua - Lori - Mikey - PatchyLootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.comBlogger195125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-78801369849851941952012-05-13T12:46:00.001-07:002012-05-13T13:01:30.781-07:00Attachment Parenting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's a lot going around about Attachment Parenting since Time Magazine put the woman breastfeeding her three year old on their cover. (By the way, I am not offended by the caption. I am secure with my abilities as a mom and in no way think this woman is "better" than I am, or any of the other moms I associate with.) I think its funny how people think this method of parenting is so extreme. I would consider myself an Attachment Parent. Dr Sears says they aren't rules, but more like suggestions, and to do them to the best of your ability. I'm not as extreme as some (I probably won't be breastfeeding a 3 year old) but I'm sure I'd still be considered extreme to some!<br />
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1. Birth Bonding: I learned after Mikey was born to tell people who wanted to visit to please wait until the next morning. I only had minutes with Mikey before he was passed around to loving family members. I was determined to fix this when Patrick was born. I got to hold him skin to skin, and nurse him for a whole hour, when *I* decided I was done. He probably would have kept going. He was rarely in the bassinet they give you. If visitors or his dad weren't holding him, I was. He never went to the nursery, except when they had to take him for his hearing test etc. This is the natural thing to me. I WANTED to be with my new baby constantly. <br />
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2. Breastfeeding: The first time was harder. It hurt. But I pushed through and succeeded for 6 months. I had babysitters feed him bottles of formula while I was at work. I never pumped. My supply went down and I didn't do anything to stop it. I knew better the second time around. It was SO easy. It didn't hurt at all, and he was a pro from the beginning. (Probably because I gave him such a good start immediately after he was born?) I pumped after work. Breastfeeding seems like the lazy option. No bottles to wash. You don't have to get up and make a bottle, especially in the middle of the night. You don't have to worry about bringing enough formula with you when you go out, or what temperature the milk is. Add in all the bonus nutrition and different uses for breastmilk and it's a no-brainer for me.<br />
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3. Babywearing: I have a Moby Wrap. (A homemade one) I don't use it ALL the time, like some people. I used it more when he was teeny. It was cold outside, why would I put my months old baby in a stroller where I can't tell if he's warm enough? Would he be warm enough without my body heat? Also, in the grocery store. Putting the infant carrier in the front part of the cart is dangerous. Putting it in the basket part leaves no room for groceries. Baby wants to be carried the whole time. So what do you do? You wear him! Hands free to push the cart, basket free for groceries, and he's happy. Problems solved. I have had people tell me I hold my baby too much. Nope, I just love him and he just wants to be with me.<br />
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4. Bedding close to baby: The night after we brought Mikey home from the hospital, I didn't want to put him even three feet away from me. I wanted him right there where if I opened my eyes, I could see him. I wasn't planning on bed sharing, but from that night on, we did. When he started sleeping through the night he could sleep in his own bed, but even now that he's almost 5 he prefers to sleep with us. If he starts out in his own bed, he usually ends up in ours by morning. You know what? We love it. With a baby it's so much easier to do those night feedings. I have never been awake feeding a baby all night. I just nurse him laying down and drift back to sleep. If he stirs in the night, I nurse him before he wakes completely and he can fall back to sleep easier too. It's easy. It's natural. Can you imagine being a baby who is with your mother constantly, then suddenly shoved into this cold world and forced to sleep alone? How is that comforting? Where is mom?? People are scared of rolling on baby, and I get that. If you're a deep sleeper, of course don't put a baby in your bed. Somehow I have a sense of where he is even when I'm sleeping. When you're pregnant, you don't roll over onto your stomach, and you get used to that. Why would that change when you are suddenly not pregnant anymore? I keep my baby in front of me, and I'm not going to roll on top of him, because I haven't rolled that direction in months!<br />
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5. Belief in your baby's cry: Babies cry for a reason. Something is wrong. Even if they just want the comfort of Mom's arms or to hear her heartbeat. <br />
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6. Beware of baby trainers: I don't cry it out. Baby just wants to be with me. Why is that so wrong? I don't feed or nap on a schedule. Baby lets me know what he needs and I do it for him. It makes you closer to your baby and you can understand what he needs.<br />
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7. Balance: Know when to take a break. Know when to get a babysitter and go out. Know when to put the baby down and spend time with your spouse. You can't take care of a baby if you aren't also taking care of you and your marriage.<br />
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That's not so hard, now is it?Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-41692633557769910052012-02-10T20:53:00.002-07:002012-02-10T20:55:38.139-07:00No Internet = No Blog PostsWe've been without internet since we moved out of my parents' house 8 months ago. Annoying, right? haha Maybe I'll start posting here again...later. ;)Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-71446712074175773702011-03-21T13:07:00.007-07:002012-05-13T12:51:50.929-07:00It's a...<span style="color: #33ccff; font-size: 180%;"><span style="font-size: 100%;">BOY!!</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: white; font-size: small;">Ok, I'm a few days late...but whatever. I'd post an ultrasound picture, but the cd they gave us a) doesn't work on macs, and b) when I put it in a PC I still couldn't figure out how to get the pics OFF the cd. What's the point of the cd if we can't do anything with the pictures on it?</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="color: white; font-size: small;">Honestly, we were both kinda hoping for a girl. But really, we're just happy to have a healthy baby. Everything looked perfect. Mikey is very cute...he makes sure he gives his baby brother a hug every day.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="color: white; font-size: small;">Name? The name we have picked out is....Patrick Aaron Rupe. It's not written in stone, but that's most likely what it'll be. He'll be named after two of his uncles.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="color: white; font-size: small;">I'm finally outgrowing my regular jeans, and breaking out the maternity shirts. I've finally gained 7 pounds. Whew. All that chocolate ice cream is working. ;) Thank goodness for the invention of the belly band, because I really don't have any money to go buy a bunch of new pants that I'll only wear for 4 months. Hopefully it continues to work as I get even bigger.</span></span></span></span>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-10932187797978653642011-03-08T17:32:00.002-07:002011-03-08T17:35:27.280-07:00Boy or Girl?With the big ultrasound being just over a week away, it's time for a poll. Check out the sidebar on the right side, and vote!<br /><br />Names are still up for debate. We have a boys name picked out, but if it's a girl...we have some discussing to do! I'm not worrying about it till then, because why argue about something that we potentially don't have to argue about?Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-46313840591138895062010-12-26T18:16:00.002-07:002010-12-26T18:29:31.144-07:00After 2 1/2 years...I finally get pregnant...while we're living at my parents' house???<br /><br />Of all the times for it to happen, why now? Not that I don't want it to...it's just...strange.<br /><br />That being said, we're super excited. Kinda hoping for a girl, then we'll have one of each. But it doesn't really matter. Healthy is all we care about.<br /><br />I realize people are meaning well when they ask how I'm feeling, but I usually just say I'm fine even when I'm not. Isn't it kinda personal whether I'm puking my guts out or not? Even if I am, I'd like to pretend I'm not, thanks.<br /><br />EDD: AUGUST 3, 2011. Check out the floating baby thingy on my side bar. :)Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-26025833909076539752010-12-19T10:03:00.002-07:002010-12-19T10:08:22.492-07:00Hi, I'm a working MomIn 45 minutes I can: take a shower, get dressed, throw hair in a ponytail and do enough makeup to look decent. I find my picky 3 year old something to eat: leftover penne from Applebee's ("but I said noodles NO chicken!"), a "baby orange", egg nog, and strawberry banana V8 fusion that he insisted on buying because it's in fun little cans. I still have time to set out church clothes for my child, find my own shoes and socks, AND blog about it. Just enough time left to pry a screaming child off my leg ("Nooo! Don't go to wooork!") once he realizes that I'm leaving, make it out to the car without slipping on the icy driveway, and drive to work where my day REALLY starts.<br /><br />Oh wait...I forgot to get myself something to eat. *sigh*Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-69362738398701445042010-09-14T14:32:00.002-07:002010-09-14T14:47:39.760-07:00Positive ThinkingI try really hard to post positive things, both here and on Facebook. I don't like people feeling sorry for me. I hate asking for help. I'm pretty independent, and I like it that way.<br /><br />It frustrates me when I see or hear people complaining about things sometimes. There are other, bigger, problems I'm having, that those things seem to small to even worry about. If THAT'S what you're complaining about, you have nothing to complain about!<br /><br />I know my life could be worse. I have a perfect, healthy, little boy who makes me smile multiple times daily. I know life would be easier if we would have waited to have kids, but I can't imagine I'd be any happier. Also, I love my husband. We have our share of struggles, but remembering that we still have each other keeps us going.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dig - Incubus</span><br /><br />We all have a weakness<br />But some of ours are easy to identify.<br />Look me in the eye<br />and ask for forgiveness;<br />We'll make a pact to never speak that word again.<br />Yes, you are my friend.<br /><br />We all have something that digs at us.<br />At least we dig each other.<br />So when weakness turns my ego up<br />I know you'll count on the me from yesterday.<br /><br />If I turn into another,<br />Dig me up from under what is covering<br />The better part of me.<br />Sing this song!<br />Remind me that we'll always have each other<br />When everything else is gone.<br /><br />We all have a sickness<br />That cleverly attaches and multiplies<br />No matter how we try.<br /><br />We all have someone that digs at us.<br />At least we dig each other.<br />So when sickness turns my ego up<br />I know you'll act as a clever medicine.<br /><br />If I turn into another,<br />Dig me up from under what is covering<br />The better part of me.<br />Sing this song!<br />Remind me that we'll always have each other<br />When everything else is gone.<br /><br />Oh, each other<br />When everything else is gone.<br /><br />Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh<br />oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh<br /><br />If I turn into another,<br />Dig me up from under what is covering<br />The better part of me.<br />Sing this song!<br />Remind me that we'll always have each other<br />When everything else is gone.<br /><br />Oh, each other<br />When everything else is gone.<br /><br />Oh, each other<br />When everything else is gone.Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-15879732583516586462010-09-01T14:44:00.002-07:002010-09-01T14:49:24.316-07:00High Risk?High risk car insurance should be for high risk drivers, right? People with a bunch of speeding tickets or who drive stupidly. Not for people who are poor and can't afford car insurance for a bit. So now I have to pay MORE for my car insurance? Doesn't that sound a little counter-productive to you?<br /><br />Oh, and after two trips to the Driver License Division today I still don't have a valid drivers license because I have to wait 48 hours to get the proper policy paper. It's frustrating that it takes so much money and waiting on other people to be driving legal. Laws are made because of stupid people, and it makes those of us who are poor, but good people, even more poor.Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-52987931751954487332010-08-31T13:40:00.002-07:002010-08-31T13:47:45.531-07:00200th postToday, I walked into the kitchen to help Mikey make himself a sandwich. (strawberry jam, sour cream, parmesan cheese, cheddar cheese, and bologna...that's another story.) Mikey says, "Mom, don't step in that" right as I'm stepping down on something. I lift my foot to see a now squished ball of brown stuff.<br />I ask Mikey, "What is that? Poop??"<br />Mikey: "Yep."<br />Me: "Where did it come from? You?"<br />Mikey: "Yep."<br />Me: "Why??"<br />Mikey: "I don't know..."<br />*Sigh* I love potty training for months and months...<br /><br />So I clean up the floor. Then Mikey is kind enough to remind me. "Mom, you still have poop on your foot."<br /><br />Thanks, kid.<br /><br /><br /><br />(Oh, and he's eating his sandwich, and loving it.)Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-25748745018868971342010-08-08T14:49:00.002-07:002010-08-08T14:55:22.065-07:00Food Blog<div style="text-align: center;">Yep, I have one.<br /><br />I put a link to it on my sidebar.<br /><br />There are only a few things on it now.<br /><br />Nothing too exciting.<br /><br />I like easy stuff.<br /><br />Probably not "diet" friendly.<br /><br />I don't pay attention, so I wouldn't know.<br /><br />It's mostly for me to remember how I made something.<br /><br />So I can make it again, if we liked it.<br /><br />You're welcome to try anything.<br /><br />Let me know how you like it.<br /><br /><a href="http://mrsrupestee.blogspot.com">Click Here.</a><br /></div>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-18966508782025943042010-06-02T09:22:00.006-07:002010-06-02T09:39:21.558-07:00Memorial Day<div style="text-align: center;">By some miracle I got Memorial Day off work. (Wait, we're allowed to request off holidays?? Since when? I've only worked Christmas Eve, New Years Eve, Valentine's day, AND Mother's Day...no big deal) So, we joined my grandparents, my parents, and three of my younger siblings on a trip up to Montpelier, Idaho (where my grandparents grew up) to visit a few cemeteries where some ancestors are buried, including my grandpa's parents and 3 of his siblings who didn't live to be adults. We also stopped to look at the houses where they used to live, and the locations of the old Burgoyne store. There's also a museum, where in the basement is a lot of stuff about the Burgoyne family.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Here's a picture of all the girls in my grandma's graduating class from Montpelier High School.<br />(Grandma is in the 2nd row from the bottom, 2nd from your right.)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-yaI75ZzqGQU1fgweW8bvE0pm058nxO20pF_b8yt7HLx3ZI7kl8KIvR6W-GNedDvJPFuPHQGJyuDxrrwjD7vYjj4PAxmK1feEhyd6RLSwn19JtkXJXr33WMDX4uqTzF1IuNg1g/s1600/IMG_2353.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-yaI75ZzqGQU1fgweW8bvE0pm058nxO20pF_b8yt7HLx3ZI7kl8KIvR6W-GNedDvJPFuPHQGJyuDxrrwjD7vYjj4PAxmK1feEhyd6RLSwn19JtkXJXr33WMDX4uqTzF1IuNg1g/s400/IMG_2353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213783192537650" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">My great-great-grandpa's cash register. It still works!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqrUCmKnVf7DK1u6e7mKqh6kkxqrHWVEzJbK1Ts0MhvtiWDAsKR6mdR8Ffk-kTfhM33RPRH60tLZHL8R92SY6gwasQUksFBWGZK_xOrDG2oC0ce5D6vqyCYmOIEPQjV9SLJEXFw/s1600/IMG_2352.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqrUCmKnVf7DK1u6e7mKqh6kkxqrHWVEzJbK1Ts0MhvtiWDAsKR6mdR8Ffk-kTfhM33RPRH60tLZHL8R92SY6gwasQUksFBWGZK_xOrDG2oC0ce5D6vqyCYmOIEPQjV9SLJEXFw/s400/IMG_2352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213433865483714" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A picture of the original Burgoyne General Store<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZGjXAA0hbfSHO8DdTW_mymney3GTG8Cj7C71C7SWnRY6pooQeSQCuX6gYl-EPHcOQwnMV6hihyphenhyphenlvDcsJCyXhCD2qFQ1lUqEFoy8x6tM4CvjsGcKTjPWcYQI0J-cw7SBF2IDeOA/s1600/IMG_2351.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZGjXAA0hbfSHO8DdTW_mymney3GTG8Cj7C71C7SWnRY6pooQeSQCuX6gYl-EPHcOQwnMV6hihyphenhyphenlvDcsJCyXhCD2qFQ1lUqEFoy8x6tM4CvjsGcKTjPWcYQI0J-cw7SBF2IDeOA/s400/IMG_2351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213427704695634" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A quilt someone made based on the above picture.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQt41p9nVEHjmjImHR7YkQlt5pIxU7soygLid-vDP5VAI8XVhcjdS0OZrBHICucVQc_5kihj19CnhzYykHpzPH7Nvn-ySfkg-EiknapqTuWQ1s802aUP52UGuAv4ImY8mA6PCcA/s1600/IMG_2350.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQt41p9nVEHjmjImHR7YkQlt5pIxU7soygLid-vDP5VAI8XVhcjdS0OZrBHICucVQc_5kihj19CnhzYykHpzPH7Nvn-ySfkg-EiknapqTuWQ1s802aUP52UGuAv4ImY8mA6PCcA/s400/IMG_2350.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213421406207490" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Does the bear want to eat Mikey, or his cookie??<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMojlPXqEWSmhAZU2OKoqZLJCaVUL64YM-gVmGYGZ-8u9vLPF97JW5LQ82hbLG_W-HtxYrAFmFOHrKgZf_YpjLn0byyGp8A7T_3sek388IRcZqFI7YX67JDIBlhmBgBvpmeJ0LA/s1600/IMG_2348.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtMojlPXqEWSmhAZU2OKoqZLJCaVUL64YM-gVmGYGZ-8u9vLPF97JW5LQ82hbLG_W-HtxYrAFmFOHrKgZf_YpjLn0byyGp8A7T_3sek388IRcZqFI7YX67JDIBlhmBgBvpmeJ0LA/s400/IMG_2348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213177203704722" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A sign in the restroom at one of the rest stops on the way...I thought it was funny that adults need reminding. Then I looked at the floor. The sign wasn't working.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwadBOWiKkPbq6Fye_1EYikAJGhoPkAc4stfuussDSSIhydunUkGh9ckRa6-o5zTj6IwFGE8uu35a1KooCehw1yvLFMeP1c2cxCduVaWQbnxUOWI9vxk7kKfvIuu8nY04N95RTQ/s1600/IMG_2344.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwadBOWiKkPbq6Fye_1EYikAJGhoPkAc4stfuussDSSIhydunUkGh9ckRa6-o5zTj6IwFGE8uu35a1KooCehw1yvLFMeP1c2cxCduVaWQbnxUOWI9vxk7kKfvIuu8nY04N95RTQ/s400/IMG_2344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213171349411474" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">My dad and my two younger sisters, Katrina and Cristal<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeoRG1EaUi43G_r3W-mvqyBZKXRs8hiNrRFecz3sa32UJnSueiUakVpwckG_f6SD4T76i-FoKtv9EoJVhQaiH5y1DFjQj5-YQYlrt5XFMHF1effdPnVV1Ce18WP2J1LRcjrxNgFQ/s1600/IMG_2343.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeoRG1EaUi43G_r3W-mvqyBZKXRs8hiNrRFecz3sa32UJnSueiUakVpwckG_f6SD4T76i-FoKtv9EoJVhQaiH5y1DFjQj5-YQYlrt5XFMHF1effdPnVV1Ce18WP2J1LRcjrxNgFQ/s400/IMG_2343.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213163050666562" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Mikey looking at Bear Lake<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm35tEzJo-jLEvCN992AalS5zh7WqH8ACwTVFtUc4vIfplsUgl9O_5OqmuhekLNgZNUy8-0ufoE2TR8K5f7mzB2XyqeYqJeBndIjYBYRAZbzBKQbrd8OjtLiyLSGPKlFiiBV55A/s1600/IMG_2340.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAm35tEzJo-jLEvCN992AalS5zh7WqH8ACwTVFtUc4vIfplsUgl9O_5OqmuhekLNgZNUy8-0ufoE2TR8K5f7mzB2XyqeYqJeBndIjYBYRAZbzBKQbrd8OjtLiyLSGPKlFiiBV55A/s400/IMG_2340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213152661483026" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Me, in the very back seat of the van.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxYEqDt1OvYt5lzIFIVRbNXkFmu1RxHZu5fxDsphoM75LdMvOcJq0aVuwedqDBibLsb9JNfzPoDlc4rW9Q4uUed5oFSvBfHt2oFAQAbFKOng_sV3hIYRiNKy8a1phyP0C6Jalbg/s1600/IMG_2337.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjxYEqDt1OvYt5lzIFIVRbNXkFmu1RxHZu5fxDsphoM75LdMvOcJq0aVuwedqDBibLsb9JNfzPoDlc4rW9Q4uUed5oFSvBfHt2oFAQAbFKOng_sV3hIYRiNKy8a1phyP0C6Jalbg/s400/IMG_2337.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478213150710292994" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">My mom: driving teacher.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKztO9TOjMbkz58NgiHkLcohf-vKhii7636eT7_GwEes1s79UKTZJ7UiJIz3TXnrWqyF8ZQHrUv9yraqmwuPtwgUJHnA9sSCW0_fhza4QMhZhcjrLPcLgvbSDRmOqiytf13ngGdw/s1600/IMG_2333.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKztO9TOjMbkz58NgiHkLcohf-vKhii7636eT7_GwEes1s79UKTZJ7UiJIz3TXnrWqyF8ZQHrUv9yraqmwuPtwgUJHnA9sSCW0_fhza4QMhZhcjrLPcLgvbSDRmOqiytf13ngGdw/s400/IMG_2333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478212844098433410" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Katrina, who turns 16 in less than 2 weeks: driving student.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikd6GmvfQTcRRzE75Iqd2tTqRZUcJJXQcGPfDho5lY1Hhlv-SaDShTfnM9wgf3ZaJF18q3IBDX58wy1NAj5Q3lETPx4-IJ3vWNcBWaei-n-zE3j1mKOoPHiT0ZDwmM8t73oqUNKA/s1600/IMG_2332.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikd6GmvfQTcRRzE75Iqd2tTqRZUcJJXQcGPfDho5lY1Hhlv-SaDShTfnM9wgf3ZaJF18q3IBDX58wy1NAj5Q3lETPx4-IJ3vWNcBWaei-n-zE3j1mKOoPHiT0ZDwmM8t73oqUNKA/s400/IMG_2332.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478212841048424178" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Tim: nephew entertainer.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVubT_IE6BNPJn4H0eI9T5AR2UUwkujYuWnq_sLHbHjC63Q6w-twX0tZs3NfqZ1pLPrrv6-V_vbEQBxzTMRQc17Le6lwlhR6Oo8aImAKkR2h8gtq4SM2g260i_X1JFEgl58zHS9A/s1600/IMG_2331.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVubT_IE6BNPJn4H0eI9T5AR2UUwkujYuWnq_sLHbHjC63Q6w-twX0tZs3NfqZ1pLPrrv6-V_vbEQBxzTMRQc17Le6lwlhR6Oo8aImAKkR2h8gtq4SM2g260i_X1JFEgl58zHS9A/s400/IMG_2331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478212828853387010" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Mikey: Toy Story Magnadoodler.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq5L50Kay2-lY4wvovb8973LVO7qH1b8uI7U_VxUyjixFa9Np4Xum-CbHKIzo9kTIlZmR0sdBPDrjGH9e34GY37tGAihyphenhyphenrFqnqGS5djD6ep9mJIqNAdWjOF-pOEjECLCGh74KRiw/s1600/IMG_2330.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq5L50Kay2-lY4wvovb8973LVO7qH1b8uI7U_VxUyjixFa9Np4Xum-CbHKIzo9kTIlZmR0sdBPDrjGH9e34GY37tGAihyphenhyphenrFqnqGS5djD6ep9mJIqNAdWjOF-pOEjECLCGh74KRiw/s400/IMG_2330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478212822296753234" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Joshua, loving the music I put on the iPod for him the night before.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoV7vaXZvSPbxdZtUIyelju_d1pVFcSNuwUvnq75Bab89JGhsiiunfqVaf2ZDQhC9ADdN2iBEQLud-K6YB_0ALzVIk9yYAXtBkDg1NwzOk6GaaI6iJjYD8C-qDBpQzWEaoWhziOA/s1600/IMG_2328.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoV7vaXZvSPbxdZtUIyelju_d1pVFcSNuwUvnq75Bab89JGhsiiunfqVaf2ZDQhC9ADdN2iBEQLud-K6YB_0ALzVIk9yYAXtBkDg1NwzOk6GaaI6iJjYD8C-qDBpQzWEaoWhziOA/s400/IMG_2328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478212807809940290" border="0" /></a>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-29809102247125370252010-04-29T09:40:00.002-07:002010-04-29T10:06:50.826-07:00Nie Nie's Ten Things<p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">From <a href="http://blog.cjanerun.com/2010/04/guest-post-stephanies-nie-guide-for.html">CJane's blog</a>.<br /></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm not saying her ideas are horrible. They're nice, for her. From what I remember from when Mikey was a new baby, I disagree with most of them. I'm a big believer on doing what works for YOU with a new baby. I don't follow a rule book. Listen to advice, and follow what you want. And this is MY blog, so I'm going to put in my comments. :)</span></span><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">10.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Babies are babies- they are not little adults.</span> Please don’t dress them</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> as one. </span><span style="">One example comes to mind: </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Babies who are under 6 months (at the very least)</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> shouldn’t wear jeans. They still sleep very often and there is nothing more that I hate than sleeping in Jeans. </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">Soft, cotton and cuddly are my 3 guidelines. <span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">Mikey has always been my little man. I know that we had both basketball shorts and jeans in the size 0-3 months. If he would have appeared uncomfortable, believe me, I would have noticed and changed his clothes. Heck, he was wearing a polo shirt and (soft) jean shorts in the hospital before we even brought him home. We also rarely dressed him in cutesy bear print etc clothing. Most everything he dressed him in had a sports related picture or print. </span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">9. I love my babies in soft, soothing colors.</span> Nothing bright and distracting. You need all the peace you can get. Just like you want to paint your bedroom a color that calms and de-stresses you, babies should be dressed the same.</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I don't remember every paying attention to the colors we dressed Mikey in. Just whatever we liked.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">8. Breastfeed!</span> (if possible, of course.)</span><span style=""> And, pretend you’re the baby. What would you like and enjoy? Chances are your baby will too (i.e.: sleeping, eating, held close, sung too and so on)</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style=""></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style=""><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I did breastfeed, for 6 months, and loved it. I hope to do it again, hopefully longer, with any future children. Another reason why I want to be a stay at home mom in the future.</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">7. Wrap.</span> Wrap babies tightly in a lightweight swaddling cloth. They seem happier and it helps the baby feel secure.</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> But, be sure to know when babies need some time to be unwrapped to kick and coo.</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">Mikey hated being wrapped up. After leaving the hospital, we tried, but no matter how tight we wrapped him, he always figured out a way to wiggle his arms out. We gave up after a couple of days.</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">6. Ask your </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 100%;">husband and </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">other children </span><span style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;">to help.</span> I asked my older</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> children to help wash binkies</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">, help lather lotion on baby after the tub</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> and pick </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">out babies clothes. They seem</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> to e</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">njoy that task because it helps</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> them feel like a part of the excitement.</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I didn't have any older children, but my husband definitely helped out, without me even asking him to. Mikey was his baby too, after all.</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">5.Sing.</span> I have the worst voice in the world. My baby doesn’t care, and loves to hear me sing. </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">Heck, if Cjane can sing and her babies like it, then so can I! </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">Sometimes</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">,</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> I make up songs and tunes as I go. After baby is asleep you can tell your husband</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> the awesome song you just made up </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">and laugh your head off.<br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt; font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt; font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: normal;">I don't sing.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-weight: normal;">I do, occasionally, now when Mikey makes me sing the Spongebob Theme Song, but that's about it.</span><br /><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. Buy a couple of nice button down shirts.</span> </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> They are easy to nurse in, and functional. But, be sure to buy flattering ones </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">m</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">ake you fee</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">l and look beautiful.</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">When I was nursing, I thought this was ridiculous, and still think it is for LDS women. I had to lift up my garment top anyway, so what was the point?</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. Rocking chair.</span> A mother MUST h</span><span style="font-size: 100%;">ave a rocker. It is a age old classic</span><span style=""> and</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> natural soother. It helps baby settle down and it creates a bond</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> that</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> mother </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">(and Dad) </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">can have with baby.</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">I never had a rocking chair. Wish I did. Maybe next time. At the time, (and even now, for the most part) every piece of furniture we owned were hand me downs, and no one handed us down a rocking chair, so we went without.</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">2. </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stay home.</span> </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">My favorite time is after my </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">babies are born when I can</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> just stay home enjoying </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">cuddling, and nursing baby. I was</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> never in a hurry and planned</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> to run </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">my </span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">errands when Christian was home.</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> That way baby can nap when he wants and you are low stress.</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> </span><span style="">Plus</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">, putting baby in and out </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">of that darn car seat</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">, asleep no less,</span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"> is the worst.</span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><br /><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">We took Mikey everywhere. I hate staying at home ALL THE TIME. We took him to Applebee's to meet our coworkers when he was just 2 days old. I wasn't going to become a hermit just because I had a new baby. (Premature babies, I understand why you don't want to take them out, but Mikey was a healthy baby, and of course we weren't completely careless, so he was fine.)</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;">1. Thank God for your sweet heaven-sent baby everyday!<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);">This one, I can agree with 100%. :)</span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: 'American Typewriter'; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-81622503211298193512010-04-21T12:45:00.002-07:002010-04-21T12:52:10.292-07:00You want this.Unfortunately, you can only have it if you live in or around Davis County Utah.<br /><br />For those of you who fall in that category, here's where reading my blog makes you a step ahead of everyone else. I can give you hints to the great deals coming up on GoDealGo.com.<br /><br />*HINT* Tomorrow's deal is half price for a hair cut at Crazy Beautiful Salon in Bountiful. **<br /><br />I'm definitely buying this one.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">PS This is Joshua's deal...meaning he gets paid for this one. So...help me out and get yourself a good hair cut for a cheap price, okay?<br /><br />PPS Tomorrow is also Joshua's birthday.<br /></span>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-61323727442705750972010-04-06T10:09:00.002-07:002010-04-06T10:27:11.800-07:00Go Deal GoJoshua has a new job. Again.<br /><br />It's a brand new company. I'm slightly nervous about it.<br /><br />He turned down an offer for a manager position for Village Inn, because honestly, how many restaurant managers do you know who like their job?? In all my years in a restaurant...I can't think of a single one.<br /><br />Nights, weekends, holidays off. I'm not sure I know what that's like. He's promising that I'll be able to quit my job soon (Don't tell my GM, Pam!) and have those hours off WITH him. (Weird, huh? What's it like to see your husband when he's not sleeping?) But who knows what "soon" will actually turn out to mean...2 months? 6 months? A year? I would love to be home in the evenings to make sure my son gets dinner (as opposed to snacks of poptarts, cookies, and donuts) and to actually put him to bed at a decent time (he was awake till 1 am last night).<br /><br />This better work. My son needs me. (lol)<br /><br />Believe it or not, you can help. Especially if you live in Davis County. If you don't, they'll be spreading to your area soon. First other areas in Utah, then across the country, so keep checking back.<br /><br />Here's how you help. Go to GoDealGo.com. Put in your email address. They'll send you an email every day for the deal of the day. You get great deals, my husband makes money. Deal?<br /><br />They did a trial week. We bought the vouchers sold two of those days. The first day: Tasty's Donuts in Kaysville. We paid $5 online, printed off a voucher worth $10, then took it to Tasty's for some yummy sandwiches and donuts.<br /><br />Easy, right? Right now the plan is to officially launch on April 19th. You can go to the <a href="http://www.godealgo.com">website</a> and subscribe now, then you'll get a reminder email.<br /><br /><br />PS If you own a company and would like to be featured for a day on the website, Joshua is the guy to talk to. He knows a thousand details that I don't, so don't ask me any questions, save them all for him.Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-23620241114368962552010-03-24T10:45:00.002-07:002010-03-24T10:52:34.187-07:00How to be ObnoxiousGo to a restaurant during half-price appetizer times.<br />Tell the host you don't know how many people will be coming, maybe 6 or 7.<br />Try to cram 14-16 people in a 8-9 person booth...the one you insisted on sitting in.<br />Order $10 appetizer samplers, knowing you're only going to be paying $5 for them.<br />Make several modifications, each one a little different. (at least making them the same would be much simpler for the cooks to understand)<br />Drink lots of water.<br />Ask for lots of lemons, limes, and ranch dressing, and leave lots unused.<br />Leave, on average, 50 cents - a dollar per person for a tip.<br />Repeat every Tuesday night at 9 pm.Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-71020245538561728172009-11-07T15:37:00.002-07:002009-11-07T15:40:54.916-07:00The Abandoned BlogI haven't posted anything in almost 2 months. We don't have internet at our apartment yet, so that limits my computer time to what little I can do from my iPhone.<br /><br />Anyway, that's why I'm never here anymore...there's not really anything else to say either. hahaLootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-16565222023772921182009-09-18T19:06:00.003-07:002009-09-18T19:19:57.672-07:00Home alone all afternoon/evening...maybe I need to turn on some music or something...So, I am packing up my house. (I don't want to, but I have to.) I started to take down all the pictures and things from the wall. (There wasn't much, I never got around to REALLY decorating. I was waiting for the money that never came.) I pulled down a plaque I got as a wedding present, and re-read it.<br /><br />It says, "<span style="font-weight: bold;">LOVE: always, forever, and no matter what</span>"<br /><br />Then I thought, "How many people ACTUALLY live like that?" We get married thinking that we'll always love someone, we'll be together forever. Yet, in the back of your mind, there's SOMETHING that could happen to break you apart.<br /><br />Then I thought of the relationship I have with my husband. We don't really hide anything from each other, there isn't a need to. We both know that lies will just hurt even worse and the truth is always better.<br /><br />I'm not saying my marriage is perfect, but maybe it's perfect for us. Honestly, I think I have it a lot better than most.<br /><br />Then...my husband called just to say hi.<br /><br />I sure love him.Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-61900633683556951612009-09-05T13:33:00.003-07:002009-09-05T14:01:52.185-07:00Downsizing...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_wGPzZ4OKR1lyI1U_zAHPt9dR9yusKXEmr_BkSji11H3EKe7M2NduNw7xahz8X8NQMKNQPznl7XQavde11Ozv7K9DRaZTHxE2xrSWO2KFmjtBD0jKnllw2CzvME5BtPivbRong/s1600-h/greenleaf.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 100px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_wGPzZ4OKR1lyI1U_zAHPt9dR9yusKXEmr_BkSji11H3EKe7M2NduNw7xahz8X8NQMKNQPznl7XQavde11Ozv7K9DRaZTHxE2xrSWO2KFmjtBD0jKnllw2CzvME5BtPivbRong/s400/greenleaf.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378089182947845554" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">http://greenleafatbountiful.com/<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Back to apartment living...<br /><br />Not too excited about that, but what can ya do?<br /><br />We're sad to leave all our friends in Tooele, and our awesome house, but excited to be moving back nearby family!<br /><br />We'll be moving next Friday, the 11th.<br /><br />We'll be listing our house ASAP.<br /><br />We are allowed to bring the dog, but we're not sure how much fun it'd be for anyone when we're used to having a backyard...to suddenly confining a huge dog in a small apartment. So, we're looking for a new home for Dominator, if possible.<br /><br />We're hoping to be able to transfer back to the Bountiful Applebee's.<br /><br />Joshua is still looking for a new job.<br /><br />Mike is amazing.<br /></div>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-46177850306860729002009-08-22T20:12:00.003-07:002009-08-22T20:33:30.900-07:00Reason #1,327 why carpet in the dining room plus a 2 year old is a bad idea:Mike: Mom! Eat!<br />Me: Okay, do you want a corn dog?<br />Mike: Okay! dah-dog!<br />I heat up a corn dog for him and set it on the table.<br />Mike: Dip!<br />Me: Do you want ketchup?<br />Mike: No! Dip!<br />Me: Do you want mustard?<br />Mike: No! Dip!<br />Me: Do you want ranch? (I think that sounds gross, but who knows what he wants!)<br />Mike: No! Dip!<br />Me: Okay, you get ketchup.<br />I squirt a little ketchup on his plate.<br />Mike: NO! DIP!<br />Corn dog in hand, he swats at the plate, sending ketchup flying to the carpet. I grab the corn dog from his hand, and carry screaming child to his bedroom.<br />Me: You can read books in your room for a minute.<br />Mike: NOOOOO!!!<br />I set him on his bed with some books and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.<br />Mike: No! Cha-chup! Cha-chup! Mommy! Cha-chup!<br />I leave him to cry in his room for a minute while I attempt to clean up the spot of ketchup on the carpet. Then I go back to his room.<br />Me: You decided you want ketchup?<br />Mike: Okay.<br />Back downstairs to the kitchen...I put him on a bar stool to eat his corn dog, with ketchup. He picks up the corn dog, and notices my lack of corn dog-heating skills since the corn bread promptly falls off the hot dog.<br />Mike: MOM! Help! Broken!<br />I try to put the corn bread back on.<br />Mike: Day-ku!<br />But when he goes to dip it, the corn bread falls off.<br />More screaming and yelling at me because I can't get a corn dog right. (LOL)<br />Out of patience and just trying to make this kid happy, I put another corn dog in the microwave, watching it closely this time and catching it before the corn bread splits all the way. I put the new corn dog on his plate.<br />Mike: Day-ku!<br />After a successful dip and bite, he decides he needs to go back to watching his movie upstairs. Whatever kid, so I get him down. Apparently he decided the corn dog needed to come with him, because as soon as I turned my back, he one-handed the plate off the counter. The corn dog rolled, making the plate unbalanced, and the whole thing toppled from his hand...sending more ketchup to the CARPET.<br /><br />At least he says Thank You a lot, right?Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-22269990449777513092009-08-16T22:06:00.006-07:002009-08-16T22:09:07.398-07:00Poll<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtObFFxEmEikOlNYtQESW6v1J5gy7TxgmssX4aOGRkXUufD0xeU7h33mHgxGO2NmetWwKIoziFmF72WAu1hQg4bXLmU3c7Qsj1DGIegCs9Z26gKlom1e7A12qChb5uTu-h7Dye6Q/s1600-h/hayley-williams.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtObFFxEmEikOlNYtQESW6v1J5gy7TxgmssX4aOGRkXUufD0xeU7h33mHgxGO2NmetWwKIoziFmF72WAu1hQg4bXLmU3c7Qsj1DGIegCs9Z26gKlom1e7A12qChb5uTu-h7Dye6Q/s400/hayley-williams.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370794821743246082" border="0" /></a><br />Please vote in the poll on the right. :)<br /><br />Joshua wants me to do my hair like Hayley Williams, the lead singer of Paramore. Specifically like this picture. I'm not sure about it. I definitely want to do something fun to my hair, but that's kinda...bright. So I don't know. Maybe I'll just do the black and pink again??<br /><br />What do you think?<br /></div>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-18376248158913681572009-08-14T16:57:00.006-07:002009-08-14T17:13:35.095-07:00Carr Family Reunion<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxiYLj_-woIA-Sf8aC7CQhizMzYWkYo2gxov3TAcMhpu3Lro0mVTNUKx51WhYsLSzGnwExB5dUIi-kHzWiHwC_15KlWD2AjVrrECj0qsyAHUzYI7XO4Oa2yaaXtdEPxI6FmaYDg/s1600-h/IMG_1012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxiYLj_-woIA-Sf8aC7CQhizMzYWkYo2gxov3TAcMhpu3Lro0mVTNUKx51WhYsLSzGnwExB5dUIi-kHzWiHwC_15KlWD2AjVrrECj0qsyAHUzYI7XO4Oa2yaaXtdEPxI6FmaYDg/s400/IMG_1012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369975326123308994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(The cousins got bored and decided to see how many people they could fit on one chair in the lodge...or something like that)</span><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This year was my mom's parents' 50th wedding anniversary. To celebrate we had (almost) everyone to a big lodge near Altamont, UT.<br /><br />Grandma and Grandpa have 11 kids...plus all their kids...equals a lot!<br /><br />There was a ton of fun stuff to do. We went swimming in the pool every day, Joshua got to go rock climbing and paintballing, and we ate lots of good food!<br /><br />Everyone decorated a cupcake to look like themselves.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQBPUaid38EAqq6q_FFDGAwf0eYYpJawkYUMvds4hKVxT80p02rw0lktFpM4qM7PVxC7DU4VlTNEfWyxGu4nTLJki41EGCPRZoeZt6AhwKvlo-1y6QTmLmNG_GNXYZtHLjtMVHIA/s1600-h/IMG_1005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQBPUaid38EAqq6q_FFDGAwf0eYYpJawkYUMvds4hKVxT80p02rw0lktFpM4qM7PVxC7DU4VlTNEfWyxGu4nTLJki41EGCPRZoeZt6AhwKvlo-1y6QTmLmNG_GNXYZtHLjtMVHIA/s400/IMG_1005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369975163028591666" border="0" /></a><br />Mike getting a ride on my dad's shoulders.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9BEFsXiIdM79Q22AOSENeUsAKHyxPvo6AEc-Rn9mK5ydCxj-1HNuOMskbuYm70RhxA3cydFYSF7f0upbpxcKOPMK4s_AojRW57p0CdnJP1IC_IBDD64j3Gy56KzHuF2M0X6KBkA/s1600-h/IMG_1002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9BEFsXiIdM79Q22AOSENeUsAKHyxPvo6AEc-Rn9mK5ydCxj-1HNuOMskbuYm70RhxA3cydFYSF7f0upbpxcKOPMK4s_AojRW57p0CdnJP1IC_IBDD64j3Gy56KzHuF2M0X6KBkA/s400/IMG_1002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369973204951002018" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Mike trying to climb the rock wall like everyone else.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhGhSP6RJfqQMnL01DvVeVu-30pFo_TCjkym6a_MhPCDV3cv8R4pvk9QE2a0_jLnL2pmpVqFVwG-rmNe8VhclDvJHRJJrGaTkVM4uYB2Yo27rTfzeX9vkEwEvStDGHwhZuP2YDA/s1600-h/IMG_0996.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhGhSP6RJfqQMnL01DvVeVu-30pFo_TCjkym6a_MhPCDV3cv8R4pvk9QE2a0_jLnL2pmpVqFVwG-rmNe8VhclDvJHRJJrGaTkVM4uYB2Yo27rTfzeX9vkEwEvStDGHwhZuP2YDA/s400/IMG_0996.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369973186128472690" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">When Joshua got down from the wall he was too tired to even stand. Mike had to help him up.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TMAcH1AQvQ5TWFNF9QUpfroJS8noXb0ZlAxaqyNUz6mtoBCNxNIC4ixnS2PkHyh44_bv3vAtTS1xViqHmkDjJom1JOLDGhf6LDde9xVF9Y3NzqiQ9JW_Ck9u6Oj29-W2ldPOHg/s1600-h/IMG_0992.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TMAcH1AQvQ5TWFNF9QUpfroJS8noXb0ZlAxaqyNUz6mtoBCNxNIC4ixnS2PkHyh44_bv3vAtTS1xViqHmkDjJom1JOLDGhf6LDde9xVF9Y3NzqiQ9JW_Ck9u6Oj29-W2ldPOHg/s400/IMG_0992.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369973177821164962" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Joshua climbing the rock wall.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9cLfbxsVD-ezi7pwr4RkieEcffR32urCpeZOrlaNTS0FAfcOAGrp-ZTfoVGaaYbbnC6rQQOkaKFftVONsc2Ouo6gXBMeEWZPaCJ-WPnhusDSv2sJj_Gy6ilguUnP-91OwXnzVgQ/s1600-h/IMG_0989.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9cLfbxsVD-ezi7pwr4RkieEcffR32urCpeZOrlaNTS0FAfcOAGrp-ZTfoVGaaYbbnC6rQQOkaKFftVONsc2Ouo6gXBMeEWZPaCJ-WPnhusDSv2sJj_Gy6ilguUnP-91OwXnzVgQ/s400/IMG_0989.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369973169962164402" border="0" /></a>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-44676203692900548822009-08-06T22:48:00.002-07:002009-08-06T22:54:46.299-07:00UghNothing great is going on right now. Nothing terrible, but nothing great. All I can think of to post would be a huge venting post, but not everyone needs to know all the details, so I won't do that.<br /><br />I can't even get a good picture of Mike these days. If you can actually see his face in the picture, its a picture of him reaching and asking for the camera. Other than that, it's a blurry picture of the back of his head.<br /><br />Hopefully my next post will be some good news.Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-72056372275177090632009-07-24T09:03:00.002-07:002009-07-24T09:14:20.914-07:00Me and My Husband<p>I stole this from Jen...hehe.<br /></p><p>♥ What are your middle names? Michael and Alayne<br /></p><p>♥ How long have you been together? 4 years next month!<br /></p><p>♥ How long did you know each other before you started dating? a couple of days...a week before it was "official".<br /></p><p>♥Who asked who out? We both just wanted to see each other again...<br /></p><p>♥ How old were each of of you when you started dating? I was 18, he was 22.<br /></p><p>♥ Whose siblings do/did you see the most? His.</p><p>♥ Do you have any children together? Awesome Mike. He's 2.<br /></p><p>♥What about pets? One huge dog.<br /></p><p>♥ Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? Money.<br /></p><p>♥ Did you go to the same school? Nope. We went to rival high schools, but he was out of high school before I even started, so not a big deal.<br /></p><p>♥ Are you from the same home town? Not really, although we lived pretty close to each other when we met.<br /></p><p>♥ Who is the smartest? He thinks he is...haha!<br /></p><p>♥ Who is the most sensitive? I think we're about equal there.<br /></p><p>♥ Where do you eat out most as a couple? Applebee's...<br /></p><p>♥ Who has the worst temper? He does, but only if his team lost.<br /></p><p>♥ Who does the cooking? If anyone cooks, it's usually me. Not that he can't cook, he just doesn't very often.<br /></p><p>♥ Who is more social? He is.<br /></p><p>♥ Who is the neat-freak? Unfortunately, neither of us are!<br /></p><p>♥ Who is the more stubborn? We both are.<br /></p><p>♥ Who hogs the bed? Mike. haha<br /></p><p>♥ Who wakes up earlier? I do. Mike wakes ME up.<br /></p><p>♥ Where was your first date? We played tennis at the park, got slurpees, and went to Barnes and Noble! haha<br /></p><p>♥ Who has the bigger family? I have one more sibling than he does, and more aunts, uncles, and cousins.<br /></p><p>♥ Do you get flowers often? Maybe twice?<br /></p><p>♥ How do you spend Christmas? However we feel like it. The last couple of years have been Christmas Eve dinner with my family, then sleeping over at his parents' house. Who's to say we'll do that every year though...<br /></p><p>♥ Who is more jealous? Hmm...we're about the same...not much jealousy, but enough.<br /></p><p>♥ How long did it take to get serious? A week...maybe<br /></p><p>♥ Who eats more? Joshua. I don't eat much.<br /></p><p>♥ Who does/did the laundry? I think he's done one load in the last year...so yeah. I do.<br /></p><p>♥ Who’s better with the computer? Probably me. :)<br /></p><p>♥Who drives when you are together? Joshua. I'm a terrible woman driver and he lets me know sometimes. So...I don't drive with him in the car.<br /></p>I tag...<br /><br />whoever wants to do this!Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-57461012980453185692009-07-09T11:25:00.003-07:002009-07-09T11:28:27.882-07:00Our Summer So Far<div style="text-align: center;">Waiting for Grandma and Uncle Tim to come to our house:<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSDAlAb5nzXM2okR6eG09TSBFiILhJykUE9qgcvWqHb3tmNvLoh4fMX40Ud69Dub8Rc7MIUtZsiL1ysOQF1rZItGCYKWFx_Ul7zcCUWYdDnCcyM_AByx4i4dPyrEHbkWZqCrDSEw/s1600-h/IMG_0778.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSDAlAb5nzXM2okR6eG09TSBFiILhJykUE9qgcvWqHb3tmNvLoh4fMX40Ud69Dub8Rc7MIUtZsiL1ysOQF1rZItGCYKWFx_Ul7zcCUWYdDnCcyM_AByx4i4dPyrEHbkWZqCrDSEw/s400/IMG_0778.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356528339377444162" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Getting started on potty training:<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouDwilvJNBUHgewa2i7uTjPgm53IGn_f3QkfmkyMY5QUNRzjKdMr0btIR6LzwM5GrX0TEaH_VXuT245RFSEci8ThJ1B1zTzdho2EBWYe6t1KtuoLe703YOUI_CVOcBb-ZQ00bdw/s1600-h/IMG_0775.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouDwilvJNBUHgewa2i7uTjPgm53IGn_f3QkfmkyMY5QUNRzjKdMr0btIR6LzwM5GrX0TEaH_VXuT245RFSEci8ThJ1B1zTzdho2EBWYe6t1KtuoLe703YOUI_CVOcBb-ZQ00bdw/s400/IMG_0775.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356528337998270322" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Then, Mike's favorite part of the day: taking Dom for a walk and letting him drink from the hose when we get home:<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOLHG7f32SxBr1Q8HdJC4XmATHMaSxkp27qkZbfr68NM_QIMwimkgkdq5ZI_IOdtL0aNcTAXXR0sb1qA9mi9PsfqeBohIjKT7nPhe7ddvF7GpQoqOOIhrC8EE2wz-lX3yMqvK4w/s1600-h/IMG_0768.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOLHG7f32SxBr1Q8HdJC4XmATHMaSxkp27qkZbfr68NM_QIMwimkgkdq5ZI_IOdtL0aNcTAXXR0sb1qA9mi9PsfqeBohIjKT7nPhe7ddvF7GpQoqOOIhrC8EE2wz-lX3yMqvK4w/s400/IMG_0768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356528334007676722" border="0" /></a>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22903133.post-89833521280021081952009-07-03T12:54:00.002-07:002009-07-03T12:56:45.883-07:00"Mo' bah-band?"<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">(translation: "More rock band?")<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">Mike's new favorite activity: Singing on Rock Band!</span><br /></span></div><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i34.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid34.photobucket.com/albums/d147/LoriAlayne/105_1337.flv" height="361" width="448"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i34.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid34.photobucket.com/albums/d147/LoriAlayne/105_1338.flv" height="361" width="448"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i34.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid34.photobucket.com/albums/d147/LoriAlayne/105_1339.flv" height="361" width="448"></embed><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i34.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid34.photobucket.com/albums/d147/LoriAlayne/105_1340.flv" height="361" width="448"></embed>Lootshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05455322913402813080noreply@blogger.com0