<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:42:49.937-06:00</updated><category term='Kids'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Adoption'/><title type='text'>Mommy in the Moment</title><subtitle type='html'>Somehow, I always seem to come up just short of "Mother of the Year" (and by "just short" I mean not by a long shot) so I decided I would have to be happy with being Mommy in the Moment.  
I hope you enjoy reading my antidotes about my family, adoption, foster care, or whatever else I come up with.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>214</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7690521889801294483</id><published>2010-04-18T20:50:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T17:07:24.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Stop Washington, DC</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We had decided to rent a car &amp;amp; drive to DC, because according to the mileage, it should only be about a 3 hour drive...right? And of course, before we could even take off, everybody had to wake up; this can be a bit challenging when traveling with a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;teenager&lt;/span&gt;. I decided that since he had been unwilling to pose for any pictures thus far, I would take whatever I could get. At least when he is sleeping he cannot cover his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFCNbpy1I/AAAAAAAAB8g/0xCazpeGbYk/s1600/100_0054.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461675614872914770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFCNbpy1I/AAAAAAAAB8g/0xCazpeGbYk/s320/100_0054.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Once we were all up &amp;amp; ready to go, we called Enterprise, because, "they'll pick you up". Of course they don't say how soon they will pick you up. And in our case, of course, it was about a 2 hour wait...even though when I reserved the car I was told to just call when we were ready to go. (The return of the car did not go much better...) But finally, we had our car &amp;amp; off we went. I found it very curious to learn when we stopped for gas that, according to the signs, it is illegal for a person to pump their own gas. Since it was mighty chilly, we were fine with them having a bunch of guys at every gas station to stand in the cold for us, we just weren't used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFBlqjqAI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/qlQcrFsl3O0/s1600/100_0058.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461675604198008834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFBlqjqAI/AAAAAAAAB8Y/qlQcrFsl3O0/s320/100_0058.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; And even though looking at the mileage it is only a three hour drive, it was really more like 5, given that practically half of the trip was in rush hour traffic. But after all of the waiting &amp;amp; driving, we did make it to our hotel in time for dinner. And we had a nice view of the Capital from the outside of the hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFBSRUQWI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/9uswh74D3Zs/s1600/100_0059.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461675598991868258" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFBSRUQWI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/9uswh74D3Zs/s320/100_0059.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; We had hoped to tour the White House, but even though the White House website makes it sound like they try to grant most request....according to our representative, they almost never grant the requests...ours included. But she did offer to schedule a capital tour for us, and Tyler actually wanted to see that, since he had seen a TV show that said it was haunted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He was not quite as excited when he found out our tour was scheduled for 9 AM, and that we'd be walking. But miraculously, he did make it up in time, and managed to make it all the way there without collapsing from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vEUNJ0SpI/AAAAAAAAB8I/eoSBD1SWHZg/s1600/100_0060.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461674824524122770" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vEUNJ0SpI/AAAAAAAAB8I/eoSBD1SWHZg/s320/100_0060.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461672950351252018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCnHULyjI/AAAAAAAAB6g/ABkTr_UhYTg/s320/SUNP0001.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461674790251305250" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vESNeimSI/AAAAAAAAB7o/MIywwEKNyNU/s320/IMG_1899.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vET5yy-gI/AAAAAAAAB8A/aVFvZp7XIdE/s1600/100_0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461674819327293954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vET5yy-gI/AAAAAAAAB8A/aVFvZp7XIdE/s320/100_0063.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Look at their excitement as we waited for the tour to begin... that looks pretty close to a smile from a 14 year old who was forced to go on vacation with his parents &amp;amp; little brother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461673789900078514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDX-4OPbI/AAAAAAAAB7g/_6m_vfhvZQA/s320/100_0066.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vETbHEu3I/AAAAAAAAB74/9pMDhgADpOg/s1600/100_0064.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461674811090844530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vETbHEu3I/AAAAAAAAB74/9pMDhgADpOg/s320/100_0064.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Do you see the light are right behind this guys shoe? That is the exact center of Washington DC. (I know, you thought I just really like his shoes!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vESlEKhLI/AAAAAAAAB7w/_pecrJIFlMY/s1600/100_0081.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461674796583126194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vESlEKhLI/AAAAAAAAB7w/_pecrJIFlMY/s320/100_0081.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There are tons of statues, some I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;recognized&lt;/span&gt;, some not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDXtWYjKI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/X93WQ3tP5C0/s1600/100_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 211px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461673785194744994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDXtWYjKI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/X93WQ3tP5C0/s320/100_0067.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDXMD9G9I/AAAAAAAAB7Q/ZIjzHW-7mVg/s1600/100_0073.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 249px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461673776259079122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDXMD9G9I/AAAAAAAAB7Q/ZIjzHW-7mVg/s320/100_0073.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDWZGv1KI/AAAAAAAAB7I/HaZJqOSA0m4/s1600/100_0079.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461673762580583586" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDWZGv1KI/AAAAAAAAB7I/HaZJqOSA0m4/s320/100_0079.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This was really amazing to see, although it made me a little dizzy looking up at it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDV73edxI/AAAAAAAAB7A/qRY4X1UYbUg/s1600/IMG_1913.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461673754731902738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vDV73edxI/AAAAAAAAB7A/qRY4X1UYbUg/s320/IMG_1913.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCovIXhVI/AAAAAAAAB64/ZOFjpF2Nlmc/s1600/100_0077.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461672978218976594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCovIXhVI/AAAAAAAAB64/ZOFjpF2Nlmc/s320/100_0077.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCoFrF2tI/AAAAAAAAB6w/D1GPBFypjJ0/s1600/IMG_1917.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461672967090330322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCoFrF2tI/AAAAAAAAB6w/D1GPBFypjJ0/s320/IMG_1917.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; See the spot in the picture? Chris &amp;amp; Cameron are convinced those are "orbs" aka ghosts. There were several pictures that had them on, in different places, but I'm still not 100% convinced. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCnoGLTII/AAAAAAAAB6o/JvAAXkPgnck/s1600/IMG_1916.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461672959150869634" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCnoGLTII/AAAAAAAAB6o/JvAAXkPgnck/s320/IMG_1916.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After the tour, we started walking, because there is not much &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;parking&lt;/span&gt; available there, even if we did want to drive. There are a lot of impressive looking buildings, but there are just so many of them that I've forgotten the name! I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; this one is the national archives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCm0MFHJI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/tJAd0u8knm4/s1600/IMG_1921.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461672945216986258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vCm0MFHJI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/tJAd0u8knm4/s320/IMG_1921.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot remember what this one was...I was not so great in Social Studies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_KMksxMI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/IFkHTJl5LH8/s1600/100_0083.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461669155011609794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_KMksxMI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/IFkHTJl5LH8/s320/100_0083.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_JT88oKI/AAAAAAAAB6I/q1Gz-gg1-Yk/s1600/100_0086.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461669139812491426" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_JT88oKI/AAAAAAAAB6I/q1Gz-gg1-Yk/s320/100_0086.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was kind of a long walk to get to the White House, but we made it. You can't go to DC without seeing that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_I2O06eI/AAAAAAAAB6A/gZjWFM2IAuM/s1600/100_0090.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461669131834419682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_I2O06eI/AAAAAAAAB6A/gZjWFM2IAuM/s320/100_0090.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; A nice Asian man offered to return the favor after I took a picture of him in front of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_IBRq-DI/AAAAAAAAB54/OYEVDoqLWXc/s1600/100_0095.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461669117619271730" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_IBRq-DI/AAAAAAAAB54/OYEVDoqLWXc/s320/100_0095.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Next stop was the Washington Monument, the Reflecting Pool &amp;amp; Lincoln Memorial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_H6NfrDI/AAAAAAAAB5w/vaBrmj7kdu4/s1600/100_0096.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461669115722705970" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u_H6NfrDI/AAAAAAAAB5w/vaBrmj7kdu4/s320/100_0096.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9zPyAG_I/AAAAAAAAB5o/baqjLdcDeAM/s1600/100_0101.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461667661224090610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9zPyAG_I/AAAAAAAAB5o/baqjLdcDeAM/s320/100_0101.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; (The teenager had run out of money for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;souvenirs&lt;/span&gt; in New York, so in order to get something in DC, I said he had to take some nice pictures with us. It almost killed him, but he pulled through.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9yx7R9zI/AAAAAAAAB5g/3WNptDE1wt4/s1600/100_0103.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461667653209945906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9yx7R9zI/AAAAAAAAB5g/3WNptDE1wt4/s320/100_0103.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9ySdqCxI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/EEHhVKDm8JM/s1600/100_0107.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461667644764195602" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9ySdqCxI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/EEHhVKDm8JM/s320/100_0107.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9xyLog1I/AAAAAAAAB5Q/zLWZx7zDhyM/s1600/100_0108.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm not sure what I expected, but the Lincoln Memorial was a lot bigger than I thought it would be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9xSUUBWI/AAAAAAAAB5I/grP8EZfk8cs/s1600/100_0112.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461667627545134434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u9xSUUBWI/AAAAAAAAB5I/grP8EZfk8cs/s320/100_0112.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; We stopped at the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch, and then stopped at the Wax Museum to meet some famous people. Thomas Jefferson...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8j6l4B3I/AAAAAAAAB5A/G3LwgliJ0cg/s1600/100_0125.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461666298326419314" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8j6l4B3I/AAAAAAAAB5A/G3LwgliJ0cg/s320/100_0125.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abraham Lincoln...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8jTNEivI/AAAAAAAAB44/qmcgzQHFTCc/s1600/100_0126.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461666287753399026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8jTNEivI/AAAAAAAAB44/qmcgzQHFTCc/s320/100_0126.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;George&lt;/span&gt; W. Bush...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8i0mcWOI/AAAAAAAAB4w/uQRjE1MANds/s1600/100_0128.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461666279538317538" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8i0mcWOI/AAAAAAAAB4w/uQRjE1MANds/s320/100_0128.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Kennedy was sweet enough to loan me the fur coat for our photo op.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8ibn8JpI/AAAAAAAAB4o/BnKi_qiTgAA/s1600/100_0132.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461666272833709714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8ibn8JpI/AAAAAAAAB4o/BnKi_qiTgAA/s320/100_0132.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron stopped off the meet Will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8iFwc6WI/AAAAAAAAB4g/fqJah0nthzo/s1600/100_0136.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461666266963831138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u8iFwc6WI/AAAAAAAAB4g/fqJah0nthzo/s320/100_0136.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ben Franklin...&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461664591633243826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u7Akqg3rI/AAAAAAAAB34/Mjk7VW1jfr4/s320/100_0124.JPG" /&gt;Chris, of course had to stop to see Tiger... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461664600340777506" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u7BFGjSiI/AAAAAAAAB4A/slhnvCaHrUI/s320/100_0139.JPG" /&gt; Tyler was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;willing&lt;/span&gt; to pose for this one &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;photo&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;although&lt;/span&gt; I'm having trouble remembering if this was Babe Ruth or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461664606344375234" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u7Bbd668I/AAAAAAAAB4I/Ns0QSXBXrgk/s320/100_0138.JPG" /&gt;I'm not real sure why they had this set up, especially since we got scolded after the picture because I guess nobody was supposed to go behind the podium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461664614825455506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u7B7D975I/AAAAAAAAB4Q/i9WjE2OaucM/s320/100_0135.JPG" /&gt;I stopped to be interviewed by Katie before we left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461664622952639650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8u7CZVo7KI/AAAAAAAAB4Y/_daFGmWSDFg/s320/100_0140.JPG" /&gt;This was pretty much the last fun stop. From here we retrieved the rental car &amp;amp; headed out for our 5 hour drive back up to New York. And it still took 5 hours going back too. We stayed in a different hotel the last night,only to discover that the fact that it was 3 miles away from the original hotel made it outside of Enterprises area in which they would "drop off us" after we returned the car. Our hotel was willing to help us out...until their van got stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel, which ended up being closed both directions because of accidents. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thankfully, Chris found a cab that brought him to the hotel to pick the boys &amp;amp; I up to head to the airport. And even with the horrible weather, our flight left on time. According to our cab drive, we were very lucky we were flying out of Newark instead of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;LaGuardia&lt;/span&gt;, or we would have probably been stranded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Overall, it was a great vacation! I would recommend it to everyone. The little ones had a great time with Nana &amp;amp; their aunties! I was a little worried about Caleb, since he is the most clingy, but &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Marnee&lt;/span&gt; won him over with a Globe Trotters game...he can't resist anything that involves a ball. Maybe we'll get to go back when they are old enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7690521889801294483?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7690521889801294483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7690521889801294483' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7690521889801294483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7690521889801294483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/04/next-stop-washington-dc.html' title='Next Stop Washington, DC'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S8vFCNbpy1I/AAAAAAAAB8g/0xCazpeGbYk/s72-c/100_0054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-56827148433536265</id><published>2010-03-24T10:32:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T12:22:25.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2 in New York</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For our second day in New York City, we wanted to see the Statue of Liberty &amp;amp; the Empire State Building. So, we took the bus again from our hotel to the Port Authority.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452402363028736802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rTD6TUCyI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/Wkt7UPLYmwo/s320/IMG_1834.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The view on Chris' side of the bus was a little better than mine...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452402347435090866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rTDANf47I/AAAAAAAAB3I/8tIeSyjrLZE/s320/IMG_1831.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We took a cab from the Port Authority to the ferry. That ride was pretty uneventful, and in the end, the driver dropped us off at the wrong one. He took us to the terminal for the Staten Island Ferry. It was freezing out, so we stayed for a few minutes to warm up &amp;amp; have a snack. The terminal had a nice view of the Brooklyn Bridge, though.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452402341624468722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rTCqkI1PI/AAAAAAAAB3A/aomm9fUAlTU/s320/IMG_1838.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452398663623970290" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rPsk8fDfI/AAAAAAAAB1o/ouUT0sKKEO4/s320/IMG_1859.JPG" /&gt;Once we could feel our fingers again, we walked a few blocks to the Ellis Island Ferry, only to find out that not only would it be at least a 2 hour wait, they would only go by the Statue of Liberty, not actually stopping there as their brochure alluded to. So, we opted to enjoy the view of the Statue from shore.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452401231288685522" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rSCCPdU9I/AAAAAAAAB2o/xVroAvsn5VE/s320/100_0033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452402329533415090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rTB9hZ_rI/AAAAAAAAB2w/D5O0Vrc1-a8/s320/100_0032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452402334034624226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rTCOSk_uI/AAAAAAAAB24/0WE7VNL0phY/s320/100_0030.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We took a brisk walk towards Ground Zero after that. Along the way we saw a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt;...while I realize even New York has to have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;cemeteries&lt;/span&gt;, it just seemed a little out of place to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452401197143670738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rSADCpv9I/AAAAAAAAB2I/xyTPowna72Y/s320/SUNP0006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also went by Wall Street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452401215163754402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rSBGK-Z6I/AAAAAAAAB2Y/1mrWteaV-oU/s320/IMG_1844.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452401208384086402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rSAs6k4YI/AAAAAAAAB2Q/qj1kfRA1sLo/s320/IMG_1846.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And finally arrived at Ground Zero. It was kind of a surreal feeling, to see it so many years later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452398690922249778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rPuKo5vjI/AAAAAAAAB2A/U4hHthHmO84/s320/IMG_1854.JPG" /&gt; We took a cab from Ground Zero to the Empire State Building. &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452766533869330450" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6weRcZrYBI/AAAAAAAAB3g/fHrMV3PfTes/s320/101_0020.JPG" /&gt;It was just like they show on TV! The driver completely ignored these "Don't Honk" signs, and literally almost ran over the feet of a couple crossing against the light!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452766522226703938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6weQxB2_kI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/fuKbTJ-4DDA/s320/101_0022.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;While I was in the front seat fearing for my life, Chris &amp;amp; the boys were enjoying the view.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452398682483924370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rPtrNDHZI/AAAAAAAAB14/CoNUNVgDGcU/s320/IMG_1856.JPG" /&gt;Tyler was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;especially&lt;/span&gt; excited...or at least as excited as a 14 year old gets when on vacation with his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452398673871543090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rPtLHsmzI/AAAAAAAAB1w/r_8zoS_iD0I/s320/IMG_1857.JPG" /&gt;Here are some pictures of the Empire State Building when we arrived there &amp;amp; got in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452398657540290274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rPsOSBduI/AAAAAAAAB1g/DgGh5ZUFNMM/s320/IMG_1861.JPG" /&gt; We took a few pictures inside the building, too, while we waited in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452392141141460514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rJw6zeRiI/AAAAAAAAB04/4zsremY_JQk/s320/100_0034.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452392178914281650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rJzHhNyLI/AAAAAAAAB1A/W8b4uTcSyJU/s320/100_0035.JPG" /&gt;King Kong even paid a visit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452392192738042722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rJz7BDo2I/AAAAAAAAB1I/4DWh7yGTW9w/s320/100_0036.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Finally, after over three hours in line, we got to go up. The view was good...it probably would &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; been better in daylight, though. It certainly was nothing like they showed on "Sleepless in Seattle"!&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452392211529678226" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rJ1BBVPZI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/lZEDWtyqJx0/s320/SUNP0016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452392205225520098" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rJ0piTa-I/AAAAAAAAB1Q/syIv13iqHbE/s320/IMG_1864.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here's a final picture of the lights right after we came down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452380014515959954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6q-vDmpuJI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/J8WOmsYBboY/s320/IMG_1889.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;From there, we decided to check out Times Square again, to see it at night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6q-wq_igaI/AAAAAAAAB0w/o-to32Q0QhE/s1600/IMG_1896.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452380042269196706" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6q-wq_igaI/AAAAAAAAB0w/o-to32Q0QhE/s320/IMG_1896.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452380036581161058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6q-wVzZ-GI/AAAAAAAAB0o/XXwOOu5a4Lk/s320/IMG_1893.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452380009081494434" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6q-uvW-W6I/AAAAAAAAB0Q/FJPjr92LVIM/s320/IMG_1887.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452380025972688450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6q-vuSJhkI/AAAAAAAAB0g/80r8NuTirv0/s320/IMG_1885.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This was the end of our time in New York City. Overall, it was really fun to see, I'm glad we decided to take the boys there. But there were just way too many people for me - I don't know how people can live there! Next stop...Washington DC.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-56827148433536265?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/56827148433536265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=56827148433536265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/56827148433536265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/56827148433536265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/03/day-2-in-new-york.html' title='Day 2 in New York'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S6rTD6TUCyI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/Wkt7UPLYmwo/s72-c/IMG_1834.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5722383067870844937</id><published>2010-03-01T21:08:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T19:06:25.032-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New York, New York</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We decided to go on a vacation this year with just Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron. We started out thinking if we waited to take them to Disney World until the little kids were old enough, they would be too old to enjoy it. But after remembering that neither one of them is really into rides and such that maybe Disney World was not the ideal place, so the four of us agreed that New York City would be fun, and we could drive down to Washington DC for a day, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The original plan was to drive there, but that was re-thought when my sister told me about some very inexpensive flights to New York, which sounded a whole lot better than driving for 2 days each way! We were really starting to wonder if we made a mistake, however, when we starting hearing the weather forecast for the day we were flying out. So much so, that we even purchased trip insurance since all of our hotel rooms were non-refundable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The plan was to leave on Christmas Day and return on New Year's Eve. I took our 5 kids up to my sister's on Christmas Eve but Chris had to wait until Christmas Day, as the respite care we had lined up for the 3 foster boys we have wasn't available until then. Christmas Day morning he got stuck in the driveway of the couple doing the respite care for us, and once he got pushed out, he averaged about 30 MPH on the freeway in the freezing rain. About a half an hour before my sister was going to drop the boys &amp;amp; I off at the airport, a car got stuck at the bottom of her driveway and it was looking like we might not be able to get out. But we did all manage to get to the airport in plenty of time for our flight. If the flight was able to get off the ground, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Not only did our flight leave from Minneapolis, we also had a connection in Chicago, and with snow &amp;amp; freezing rain &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;forecasted&lt;/span&gt; in both cities, we were not certain we would make it there until that second plane took off from Chicago. Amazingly, we made it, without more than a 20 minute delay. Since it was after 11 pm by the time we arrived, we got to the hotel &amp;amp; went to bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As luck would have it, I woke up the next day with a horrible migraine. So we just took it easy that day &amp;amp; hung around the hotel. I think it was very needed, especially given the amount of walking we would be doing the rest of the trip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our hotel was actually in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Secausus&lt;/span&gt;, New Jersey, literally right next door to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Meadowlands&lt;/span&gt;, so we took the bus into "the city" the next morning. (That is if you use the technically definition of morning being any time before noon since we did have a teenager with us.) We were dropped off at the Port Authority and armed with a map of NYC started walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It didn't take very long before we came upon our fist street performer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443869250517525362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S4yCPZDE43I/AAAAAAAABxw/LZMDPd2RX-A/s320/354.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also saw some celebrity's...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443869258599252162" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S4yCP3J6QMI/AAAAAAAABx4/vPeyNHH9yzo/s320/459.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We meandered to Times Square and Central Park. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444483913689520530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46xRfzK2ZI/AAAAAAAABzo/nldbjTsukbE/s320/IMG_1771.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444464418729697378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46fivajIGI/AAAAAAAABzY/dDujFFv38rg/s320/IMG_1769.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444464408115968882" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46fiH4Ce3I/AAAAAAAABzQ/t-aWxyzBHUY/s320/IMG_1774.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444464393599527906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46fhRzDK-I/AAAAAAAABzI/aDI50pgtSwI/s320/101_0006.JPG" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444454570984637778" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46WlhtKhVI/AAAAAAAAByw/gfPWvJf8blo/s320/008.JPG" /&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444483932323736386" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46xSlN6a0I/AAAAAAAABz4/m-oC2TZdO1g/s320/IMG_1786.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444454553766961698" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46WkhkJoiI/AAAAAAAAByg/pWdSF2XOH20/s320/SUNP0028.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also had to see David Letterman's studio (although he was on vacation),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 323px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 254px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443869267089956242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S4yCQWyQHZI/AAAAAAAAByA/g4ekl-jfnQ0/s320/496.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Hello Deli was also closed...they must go on vacation the same time that Dave does.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444483920625016002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46xR5ouHMI/AAAAAAAABzw/XVH7gCpSb18/s320/IMG_1777.JPG" /&gt;Next was Rockefeller Plaza and the Trump Tower. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444454587814367874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46WmgZr0oI/AAAAAAAABy4/NpibD8ApXJU/s320/101_0016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444464429578746386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46fjX1KehI/AAAAAAAABzg/oX68eF6TR3s/s320/IMG_1807.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443869273121613458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S4yCQtQT5pI/AAAAAAAAByI/lVQXJQow9WY/s320/579.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443869279495328274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S4yCRE_7EhI/AAAAAAAAByQ/bF9-cIZxzdU/s320/581.JPG" /&gt;After dinner at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;TGI&lt;/span&gt; Friday's we checked out Ripley's Believe It or Not.&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444483951462502482" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46xTsg80FI/AAAAAAAAB0I/WfZWfOF4GQ8/s320/IMG_1826.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444483943771978530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S46xTP3YuyI/AAAAAAAAB0A/YLmLyrn3tpU/s320/IMG_1821.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, finally, we found our way back to the Port Authority to catch our ride back to the hotel to rest our legs for day 2 in NYC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5722383067870844937?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5722383067870844937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5722383067870844937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5722383067870844937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5722383067870844937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-york-new-york.html' title='New York, New York'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S4yCPZDE43I/AAAAAAAABxw/LZMDPd2RX-A/s72-c/354.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6106822650232758155</id><published>2010-01-28T20:24:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T19:27:52.026-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In November, we had 3 little boys placed with us, Dillan, 1, Nicholas, 2 &amp;amp; Elliot, 3. It made for a very busy Christmas. We did include them in our annual Christmas picture. We take it every year with everybody who is living with us at the time.  Getting six kids 4 &amp;amp; under to all look at the camera is hard enough, we don't even worry about smiles!  I guess Buddy, our dog, was not happy that he was not originally invited to be in the picture, so he posed himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK8ro0nEI/AAAAAAAABw4/m3FvG95f4us/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431986506928790594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK8ro0nEI/AAAAAAAABw4/m3FvG95f4us/s320/007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; You can just see the excitement in the room (the teenager was not &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ecstatic&lt;/span&gt; about being waken up before noon.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK8NV0NzI/AAAAAAAABww/S1byg2sQ5Ew/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431986498796009266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK8NV0NzI/AAAAAAAABww/S1byg2sQ5Ew/s320/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; He did perk up a little bit once the stockings were distributed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK7ydXpXI/AAAAAAAABwo/Wl0_psFVUDU/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431986491579934066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK7ydXpXI/AAAAAAAABwo/Wl0_psFVUDU/s320/016.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKKK4V1AI/AAAAAAAABwg/XCfspKKKVEM/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431985639142052866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKKK4V1AI/AAAAAAAABwg/XCfspKKKVEM/s320/017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKJTJhKNI/AAAAAAAABwY/5FQAKDlHYKs/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431985624181713106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKJTJhKNI/AAAAAAAABwY/5FQAKDlHYKs/s320/018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKJDtZ4aI/AAAAAAAABwQ/73tIpKcyzak/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431985620037263778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKJDtZ4aI/AAAAAAAABwQ/73tIpKcyzak/s320/019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKIKqQ2mI/AAAAAAAABwA/MIDrAIA4RSY/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431985604723268194" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JKIKqQ2mI/AAAAAAAABwA/MIDrAIA4RSY/s320/021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Poor &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Dillan&lt;/span&gt;...his parents refuse to let me cut the back of his hair!  I am only allowed to "maintain" his current style - if you can even call it that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JJgLBSoTI/AAAAAAAABv4/L-YZzx1o_mY/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431984917625086258" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JJgLBSoTI/AAAAAAAABv4/L-YZzx1o_mY/s320/022.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He wasn't as interested in his stocking as he was the gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JJenPOXmI/AAAAAAAABvg/qiryqu3fWK4/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431984890839981666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JJenPOXmI/AAAAAAAABvg/qiryqu3fWK4/s320/025.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI-UyJeEI/AAAAAAAABvQ/ES7ny7LYfzo/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431984336130373698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI-UyJeEI/AAAAAAAABvQ/ES7ny7LYfzo/s320/027.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI8_1tIeI/AAAAAAAABvA/fZWFYvQekyQ/s1600-h/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431984313328280034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI8_1tIeI/AAAAAAAABvA/fZWFYvQekyQ/s320/029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI8cFh5kI/AAAAAAAABu4/ikWzAVVHfUM/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431984303730976322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI8cFh5kI/AAAAAAAABu4/ikWzAVVHfUM/s320/030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Santa finally got smart this year, and all of the little kids received a handheld game of some sort from him.  (The first month the boys were here they all &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fought&lt;/span&gt; over Amata's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Leapster&lt;/span&gt;).  Since Amata already had one, she got a text to learn thing &amp;amp; Dylan got a drawing toy since he didn't really know how to play one; the others either got a v-tech pocket or a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Leapster&lt;/span&gt;.  The older boys got smaller gifts in addition to the cash they got to spend on our vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI8HvzkbI/AAAAAAAABuw/9W9UV1L7Hg0/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431984298271150514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JI8HvzkbI/AAAAAAAABuw/9W9UV1L7Hg0/s320/031.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JISUlER5I/AAAAAAAABuY/-23JKfQJGjQ/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431983580161263506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JISUlER5I/AAAAAAAABuY/-23JKfQJGjQ/s320/034.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JIR4UBNBI/AAAAAAAABuQ/pNqsJgwLgqs/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431983572573565970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JIR4UBNBI/AAAAAAAABuQ/pNqsJgwLgqs/s320/035.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JIRvPAbLI/AAAAAAAABuI/boFFr3MDy3U/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431983570136624306" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JIRvPAbLI/AAAAAAAABuI/boFFr3MDy3U/s320/036.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHnRmjZaI/AAAAAAAABuA/9XsKkGIFkM0/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431982840627815842" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHnRmjZaI/AAAAAAAABuA/9XsKkGIFkM0/s320/037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHm8UzryI/AAAAAAAABt4/3eYv2qi22ag/s1600-h/038.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431982834916241186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHm8UzryI/AAAAAAAABt4/3eYv2qi22ag/s320/038.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHmKIC-sI/AAAAAAAABtw/PEQl0I4L4gQ/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431982821440944834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHmKIC-sI/AAAAAAAABtw/PEQl0I4L4gQ/s320/039.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHloEfVHI/AAAAAAAABto/mqWFOy0a04M/s1600-h/040.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431982812299220082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHloEfVHI/AAAAAAAABto/mqWFOy0a04M/s320/040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata's favorite gift by far was her new outfit for dance.  She literally wore it all day long...in the car on the way to the Cities (everybody in the gas station we stopped at to go potty loved it, too) to church that night &amp;amp; through dinner &amp;amp; gift opening at her auntie &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Marnee's&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431982801742937874" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JHlAvrPxI/AAAAAAAABtg/oZ2OLc61NXE/s320/041.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6106822650232758155?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6106822650232758155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6106822650232758155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6106822650232758155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6106822650232758155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-2009.html' title='Christmas 2009'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JK8ro0nEI/AAAAAAAABw4/m3FvG95f4us/s72-c/007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6189123693120110142</id><published>2010-01-28T19:51:00.011-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T19:01:22.062-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The kids had fun getting ready for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt;. They are getting old enough to actually help with the pumpkin carving. They all got to pick out their own this year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981804784350578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGq-yOdXI/AAAAAAAABtI/Q5jvqwRVhPY/s320/181.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981781714963890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGpo2DjbI/AAAAAAAABs4/1y5Zgr9m8Bg/s320/183.JPG" /&gt; I think Cameron picked the biggest one they had!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981796021911314" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGqeJGPxI/AAAAAAAABtA/Sc9obRkzjN8/s320/182.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; made sure to finish her pizza first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981095519946226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGBskahfI/AAAAAAAABsY/ZUvHJ_Qsf9c/s320/186.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431980244314211378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JFQJlJxDI/AAAAAAAABro/uw2eC_5jgYM/s320/194.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981102047433250" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGCE4sEiI/AAAAAAAABsg/MoPXXxzxknQ/s320/187.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981115013824834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGC1MHgUI/AAAAAAAABso/vhYjo5jTUkQ/s320/185.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431977970678173378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JDLzoFDsI/AAAAAAAABrg/7XPUDGQiMHI/s320/195.JPG" /&gt;Yummy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431980280539444674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JFSQh69cI/AAAAAAAABsI/XtFm1HzKDFE/s320/189.JPG" /&gt;The teenager was thoroughly enjoying the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pumpkin&lt;/span&gt; carving activities...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981809495693682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGrQVf2XI/AAAAAAAABtQ/VKOPNBZlmLE/s320/161.JPG" /&gt; Long after the little ones finished their &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;, Cameron was still hard at work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGDEf0KdI/AAAAAAAABsw/tNR0D8qTeJQ/s1600-h/184.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431981119122975186" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGDEf0KdI/AAAAAAAABsw/tNR0D8qTeJQ/s320/184.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431977939734634994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JDKAWkIfI/AAAAAAAABrI/P8Ikn0gnURk/s320/198.JPG" /&gt;But the end result was worth it for him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JDJu142VI/AAAAAAAABrA/1jKFEgVM2qQ/s1600-h/199.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431977935034177874" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JDJu142VI/AAAAAAAABrA/1jKFEgVM2qQ/s320/199.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Time to get ready for trick-or-treating...Amata was tired of waiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBCm9x97I/AAAAAAAABq4/y01E-2R6VR8/s1600-h/215.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431975613637457842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBCm9x97I/AAAAAAAABq4/y01E-2R6VR8/s320/215.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBBzf_RuI/AAAAAAAABqo/8Y4CPL3Zxd8/s1600-h/218.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431975599822292706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBBzf_RuI/AAAAAAAABqo/8Y4CPL3Zxd8/s320/218.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBBdGE4MI/AAAAAAAABqg/yAVYFSppznY/s1600-h/219.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431975593808027842" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBBdGE4MI/AAAAAAAABqg/yAVYFSppznY/s320/219.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBAc0YY1I/AAAAAAAABqY/WdkXaSh5iIA/s1600-h/220.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431975576553939794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JBAc0YY1I/AAAAAAAABqY/WdkXaSh5iIA/s320/220.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JAVdabQoI/AAAAAAAABqI/KqemLMQJIJk/s1600-h/222.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I_wU1MK3I/AAAAAAAABpg/OkUXyWp8qIQ/s1600-h/229.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431974200020314994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I_wU1MK3I/AAAAAAAABpg/OkUXyWp8qIQ/s320/229.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I_vxZ9_4I/AAAAAAAABpY/rVfs-LTMJWo/s1600-h/230.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431974190510899074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I_vxZ9_4I/AAAAAAAABpY/rVfs-LTMJWo/s320/230.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Off they went...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I_u2b617I/AAAAAAAABpI/InaMH0tLMkE/s1600-h/232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431974174681388978" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I_u2b617I/AAAAAAAABpI/InaMH0tLMkE/s320/232.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6189123693120110142?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6189123693120110142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6189123693120110142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6189123693120110142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6189123693120110142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/01/halloween-2009.html' title='Halloween 2009'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2JGq-yOdXI/AAAAAAAABtI/Q5jvqwRVhPY/s72-c/181.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7745784341673384756</id><published>2010-01-28T17:04:00.009-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T17:18:35.193-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Caleb's 3rd Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Caleb turned 3 back in October; the day before Halloween to be exact.  Since they were allowed to wear their costumes to school that day, he had to open one of his gifts that morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431968359735029474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6cYEq7uI/AAAAAAAABpA/9_r33fsVCBw/s320/162.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6QMC40QI/AAAAAAAABo4/FXginF8KV18/s1600-h/163.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431968150347895042" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6QMC40QI/AAAAAAAABo4/FXginF8KV18/s320/163.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right, he got a Green Bay Packer's, uniform complete with shoulder pads &amp;amp; a helmet (although we didn't show him the helmet until after school, since they couldn't wear masks to school).  They may not have had their best season this year, but we are die-hard Packer's fans at our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6PkM8ymI/AAAAAAAABow/QwLn1eq7n3E/s1600-h/164.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431968139652680290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6PkM8ymI/AAAAAAAABow/QwLn1eq7n3E/s320/164.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We did make him wait until school &amp;amp; daycare were over before he got to open the rest of his gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6PVAhhVI/AAAAAAAABoo/3_nAlZ-9Dx4/s1600-h/165.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431968135574029650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6PVAhhVI/AAAAAAAABoo/3_nAlZ-9Dx4/s320/165.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431968114945724258" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6OIKWj2I/AAAAAAAABoY/qeCZfdDNZ_A/s320/167.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; was very excited about his domino train!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I5eLsiBrI/AAAAAAAABoQ/LkptqZth2t8/s1600-h/168.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431967291260667570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I5eLsiBrI/AAAAAAAABoQ/LkptqZth2t8/s320/168.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Caleb's second favorite gift (right after the Packer's uniform that he refused to take off all day) was a guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I5drukdOI/AAAAAAAABoI/aKuoH4OI_t0/s1600-h/169.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431967282679280866" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I5drukdOI/AAAAAAAABoI/aKuoH4OI_t0/s320/169.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431967268406553378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I5c2jr6yI/AAAAAAAABoA/16ThKSn7AAQ/s320/170.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431966461413912082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I4t4RpbhI/AAAAAAAABng/hSJEXJfgDt8/s320/174.JPG" /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; was just excited for new toys period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I4uXpGOKI/AAAAAAAABno/pP1lX2vsQp4/s1600-h/173.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431966469833767074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I4uXpGOKI/AAAAAAAABno/pP1lX2vsQp4/s320/173.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; You can never go wrong with a ball &amp;amp; glove.  Especially a soft ball, that will most likely not break anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Idqggty9I/AAAAAAAABnA/sMQfB39e43I/s1600-h/178.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431936716681104338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Idqggty9I/AAAAAAAABnA/sMQfB39e43I/s320/178.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or with a book about baseball...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IdqaQDTeI/AAAAAAAABm4/n8O1AM8Bmks/s1600-h/179.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431936715000597986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IdqaQDTeI/AAAAAAAABm4/n8O1AM8Bmks/s320/179.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He  has found some things he enjoys, in addition to anything ball related.  And Cars is one of those things.  Luckily, Cars was one of the few cakes Cub had left when I was cake shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Idp9yq1hI/AAAAAAAABmw/Pey-nsa7FGA/s1600-h/202.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431936707361166866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Idp9yq1hI/AAAAAAAABmw/Pey-nsa7FGA/s320/202.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IcAG4ZSMI/AAAAAAAABmY/8KlWRqpofLo/s1600-h/205.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431934888734968002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IcAG4ZSMI/AAAAAAAABmY/8KlWRqpofLo/s320/205.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Waiting patiently for the cake to be cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Ib_SvEMWI/AAAAAAAABmI/GGdYn-NSDvE/s1600-h/207.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431934874737193314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Ib_SvEMWI/AAAAAAAABmI/GGdYn-NSDvE/s320/207.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Ib-mZUbOI/AAAAAAAABl4/T7SjlBXskXk/s1600-h/209.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431934862834822370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2Ib-mZUbOI/AAAAAAAABl4/T7SjlBXskXk/s320/209.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaN5Uc1II/AAAAAAAABlw/ZhL932OKlns/s1600-h/210.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431932926589457538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaN5Uc1II/AAAAAAAABlw/ZhL932OKlns/s320/210.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, everybody loves cake time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaNt1KSEI/AAAAAAAABlo/M1Bbx7XcFaM/s1600-h/211.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431932923505428546" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaNt1KSEI/AAAAAAAABlo/M1Bbx7XcFaM/s320/211.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaMy23KBI/AAAAAAAABlg/CkKg1Vk15co/s1600-h/213.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431932907674871826" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaMy23KBI/AAAAAAAABlg/CkKg1Vk15co/s320/213.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaMfwoICI/AAAAAAAABlQ/QlkErRkWPx0/s1600-h/212.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431932902548447266" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2IaMfwoICI/AAAAAAAABlQ/QlkErRkWPx0/s320/212.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7745784341673384756?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7745784341673384756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7745784341673384756' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7745784341673384756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7745784341673384756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/01/calebs-3rd-birthday.html' title='Caleb&apos;s 3rd Birthday'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S2I6cYEq7uI/AAAAAAAABpA/9_r33fsVCBw/s72-c/162.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-232517465569836354</id><published>2010-01-26T21:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T22:05:47.091-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Wow it's been three months...I guess 8 kids, 3 birthdays, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;, Vacation, New Years &amp;amp; a laptop crashing really make time fly! Luckily, it was a slow crash, so I was able to save the pictures I'd taken since August on my flash drive....not to mention ALL of our daycare files that I hadn't backed up since November. (I really didn't want to go back to all of our parents to ask them how much they paid us last year!) I hadn't backed up Quicken since then either, but so far, I've managed to recreate our check ledger since then &amp;amp; I only have 4 checks left that I don't know who they were written to. The bank said they could get me copies of them for $4 a piece, but I know it probably isn't worth it, since I doubt it would make much of a difference on my taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow...I'm hoping to get pictures from Caleb's birthday updated soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-232517465569836354?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/232517465569836354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=232517465569836354' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/232517465569836354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/232517465569836354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2010/01/ugh.html' title='Ugh'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7024432850930012344</id><published>2009-10-26T14:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T15:06:58.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day of School 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Baylee's&lt;/span&gt; birthday pictures were not the only thing I was behind on. We had four kids starting school this year! Shockingly, Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron are no longer willing to pose for first day of school pictures. We did have a couple of willing participants, though. Amata &amp;amp; Caleb are always more than happy to have their pictures taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was Caleb's very first day of school, ever. And, actually, he is the youngest person in his class. Normally, they don't get to have their Early Family Special Education classes at the school until they turn three. But, since Caleb's birthday was only a month &amp;amp; a half after the school year started, they decided he could start early so he didn't have to make a chance after the year started. He gets to go three mornings a week. We weren't sure how he would do at school, since he tends to have a tad bit of stranger anxiety (which is putting it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;mildly&lt;/span&gt;). Obviously, we underestimated the thrill of getting to ride the school bus when you are 3! (Town kids don't bussed around here, which makes it even cooler to have the bus pick you up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396999112262920850" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuX-GRuHqpI/AAAAAAAABlI/u-2hU6Dgv_A/s320/IMG_1488.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The bus was a little late, so he got anxious &amp;amp; decided to wait outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396999107398184306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuX-F_mRrXI/AAAAAAAABlA/VxOsJHAAgxg/s320/IMG_1489.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 283px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396999100575506898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuX-FmLn4dI/AAAAAAAABk4/AiaKwj4WfZY/s320/IMG_1493+cropped.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata gets to go to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ECSE&lt;/span&gt; 3 afternoons a week &amp;amp; regular preschool 2 days a week. It just worked out that her first day of school was the day after &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Caleb's&lt;/span&gt;. She wasn't thrilled about that, but Nana &amp;amp; Great Grandma were able to be here for Amata's first day, so that made it a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396999096180537218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuX-FVzx94I/AAAAAAAABkw/666X39Yhe-U/s320/IMG_1490.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396999090162353778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuX-E_Y7xnI/AAAAAAAABko/4PvH-lRUUag/s320/IMG_1492.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Too bad their excitement for school will fizzle out within the next few years. We'll just have to enjoy it while it lasts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7024432850930012344?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7024432850930012344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7024432850930012344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7024432850930012344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7024432850930012344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/10/first-day-of-school-2009.html' title='First Day of School 2009'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuX-GRuHqpI/AAAAAAAABlI/u-2hU6Dgv_A/s72-c/IMG_1488.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1462243993784930763</id><published>2009-10-26T13:46:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T16:47:12.438-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Baylee</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, so technically, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; is now 2 years, one month &amp;amp; 10 days old, but none of the other kids have had a birthday yet, so it’s okay that I haven’t gotten around to posting any pictures yet, right? Heck, we had our family pictures done in August I think and I haven’t posted or ordered prints of those yet, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries, even though she is the youngest of 5 children and really has no concept of what happens on her birthday, let alone *when* it actually is, we did in fact celebrate her birthday, on her birthday, complete with cake &amp;amp; ice cream. We may have skipped the whole going out for dinner part, but she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t seem to mind, and really, it’s not my fault that she chose to have her birthday on Wednesday when Amata had dance. I even had all of her gifts purchased before hand…granted it was the night before, but still before. And, as a matter of fact, I actually bought the cake 4 whole days before her birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt;, she had lots of help opening her gifts from her older brother &amp;amp; sister!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983141271161170" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXvkpI9SVI/AAAAAAAABiA/ePwbteHL6n8/s320/IMG_1549.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983144861162802" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXvk2g4XTI/AAAAAAAABiI/KT2tjM6-tuA/s320/IMG_1550.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983147496843490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXvlAVRqOI/AAAAAAAABiQ/mWEMp8kVdv4/s320/IMG_1551.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983159553688114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXvltP2gjI/AAAAAAAABiY/OZcTBzkOyBU/s320/IMG_1553.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983162546393458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXvl4ZXkXI/AAAAAAAABig/DOM4jCFWJJg/s320/IMG_1554.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983803432586514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXwLL4izRI/AAAAAAAABio/3pImPB0CInc/s320/IMG_1555.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983804932815442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXwLReOelI/AAAAAAAABiw/UvmKLpyZ0fg/s320/IMG_1556.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983816435589010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXwL8Us35I/AAAAAAAABi4/6WkYFLkEdsA/s320/IMG_1557.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983823180634034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXwMVc2F7I/AAAAAAAABjA/DaOS_UUEApM/s320/IMG_1558.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396983830601829618" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXwMxGMjPI/AAAAAAAABjI/ZpDi9WDD2CM/s320/IMG_1559.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396984577454383794" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXw4PVuIrI/AAAAAAAABjY/Y-FDPy-Cc-4/s320/IMG_1561.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396984597205602466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXw5Y6x0KI/AAAAAAAABjw/mxO3dMym1LM/s320/IMG_1564.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She changed into her new Barbie cheerleader outfit before enjoying her cake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396985293377520674" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXxh6XGRCI/AAAAAAAABkI/A6KJMrauXn0/s320/IMG_1568.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396985278547327490" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXxhDHTegI/AAAAAAAABj4/15jx3MFN7Fs/s320/IMG_1566.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396985283107218834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXxhUGd5ZI/AAAAAAAABkA/1OxfrOzMKHE/s320/IMG_1567.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, of course, Amata &amp;amp; Caleb also had to blow out the candles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396985298751313890" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXxiOYT1-I/AAAAAAAABkQ/tf5cFMdSPaA/s320/IMG_1570.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We were not prepared enough to have remembered to get extra &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Schwan's&lt;/span&gt; ice cream, so we had to make do with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kemps&lt;/span&gt;. Chris has gotten really picky about that!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396985841393008354" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXyBz4K_uI/AAAAAAAABkg/FHuXSLLD-SU/s320/IMG_1572.JPG" /&gt;Notice how excited the teenager is…as usual!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396985302207259554" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXxibQRY6I/AAAAAAAABkY/bjuDCzWW5z8/s320/IMG_1571.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1462243993784930763?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1462243993784930763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1462243993784930763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1462243993784930763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1462243993784930763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-birthday-baylee.html' title='Happy Birthday, Baylee'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SuXvkpI9SVI/AAAAAAAABiA/ePwbteHL6n8/s72-c/IMG_1549.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4119589935090533436</id><published>2009-09-25T11:58:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T15:38:08.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Afternoon Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We went to our areas last parade back in August, and we remembered to bring the camera to this one. Tyler stayed home with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt;, as &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt; is not so much fun at things like this, and Tyler feels he's too old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385456513258187234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz8KloRaeI/AAAAAAAABh4/cRodxbc9GTc/s320/IMG_1445.JPG" /&gt;Waiting patiently for the candy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz78HCg76I/AAAAAAAABhg/rJ8g3odJ9qI/s1600-h/IMG_1448.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385456264528588706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz78HCg76I/AAAAAAAABhg/rJ8g3odJ9qI/s320/IMG_1448.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Here it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz77JGM2yI/AAAAAAAABhQ/LwNbaRi35fE/s1600-h/IMG_1450.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385456247901051682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz77JGM2yI/AAAAAAAABhQ/LwNbaRi35fE/s320/IMG_1450.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7JcV5lDI/AAAAAAAABhA/GYr9vEcsjgc/s1600-h/IMG_1452.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385455394073711666" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7JcV5lDI/AAAAAAAABhA/GYr9vEcsjgc/s320/IMG_1452.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7JHOQ7TI/AAAAAAAABg4/8alDkG45xyU/s1600-h/IMG_1453.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385455388404542770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7JHOQ7TI/AAAAAAAABg4/8alDkG45xyU/s320/IMG_1453.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Big brother steps in to help out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7InZH4HI/AAAAAAAABgw/D9P4kndVe7g/s1600-h/IMG_1454.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385455379860152434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7InZH4HI/AAAAAAAABgw/D9P4kndVe7g/s320/IMG_1454.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385454586318967234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz6abOKUcI/AAAAAAAABgg/Y-nh5cOBPnc/s320/IMG_1456.JPG" /&gt; It's too hard to wait until we get home to start in on the candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7IL7VUQI/AAAAAAAABgo/WEFCA_Xv4vI/s1600-h/IMG_1455.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385455372487446786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz7IL7VUQI/AAAAAAAABgo/WEFCA_Xv4vI/s320/IMG_1455.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Break Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz6aE3xYMI/AAAAAAAABgY/u7zDUzWfbnw/s1600-h/IMG_1457.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385454580319477954" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz6aE3xYMI/AAAAAAAABgY/u7zDUzWfbnw/s320/IMG_1457.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz6Zjh98vI/AAAAAAAABgQ/-M4TZrX8U3o/s1600-h/IMG_1458.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After the parade, we went home &amp;amp; Amata helped us get the corn on the cob ready for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz6YyM9KDI/AAAAAAAABgA/sMFzo44sM1w/s1600-h/IMG_1460.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385454558128187442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz6YyM9KDI/AAAAAAAABgA/sMFzo44sM1w/s320/IMG_1460.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz5LIbwDXI/AAAAAAAABfw/rOgJWMAXH-4/s1600-h/IMG_1462.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385453224066026866" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz5LIbwDXI/AAAAAAAABfw/rOgJWMAXH-4/s320/IMG_1462.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; And then, of course, we had to eat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz5JrrYfXI/AAAAAAAABfY/AMktZK_rPAM/s1600-h/IMG_1465.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385452527801008338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz4impPANI/AAAAAAAABfI/fnrzOfzceWc/s320/IMG_1467.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz4i8QzQOI/AAAAAAAABfQ/AcDbnH0_ixE/s1600-h/IMG_1466.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385452533604106466" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz4i8QzQOI/AAAAAAAABfQ/AcDbnH0_ixE/s320/IMG_1466.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or most of us....Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron decided they don't like corn on the cob anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz4iDH7QEI/AAAAAAAABfA/C4KfeabQsyM/s1600-h/IMG_1468.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385452518266060866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz4iDH7QEI/AAAAAAAABfA/C4KfeabQsyM/s320/IMG_1468.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it was time to help Daddy mow the lawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3sFDQRzI/AAAAAAAABeo/o1u2vwuSJ5I/s1600-h/IMG_1472.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385451591070402354" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3sFDQRzI/AAAAAAAABeo/o1u2vwuSJ5I/s320/IMG_1472.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3r_x6BKI/AAAAAAAABeg/1sRglDDwypI/s1600-h/IMG_1471.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3rWIIfNI/AAAAAAAABeY/xnTIhKwwtis/s1600-h/IMG_1473.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385451578474396882" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3rWIIfNI/AAAAAAAABeY/xnTIhKwwtis/s320/IMG_1473.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3qbpfulI/AAAAAAAABeI/fAs3c9Ty15A/s1600-h/IMG_1475.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385451562776640082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz3qbpfulI/AAAAAAAABeI/fAs3c9Ty15A/s320/IMG_1475.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4119589935090533436?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4119589935090533436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4119589935090533436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4119589935090533436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4119589935090533436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/09/sunday-afternoon-fun.html' title='Sunday Afternoon Fun'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Srz8KloRaeI/AAAAAAAABh4/cRodxbc9GTc/s72-c/IMG_1445.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4474037948369751189</id><published>2009-09-23T14:58:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T11:50:04.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go Twins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I may have mentioned that Caleb has a slight obsession with balls. Okay, when a 2 year old will sit and watch a Twins baseball game on TV...and when they get upset come October when the baseball teams on TV are not the Twins...maybe it is more than a slight obsession. So, we decided to take him to his first Twins game...and only game in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Metrodome&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He was very excited about it, until we dropped the rest of the kids at Auntie &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Marnee's&lt;/span&gt; and discovered that she set up a pool for them. But, we did manage to talk him into coming along with us with the promise of swimming later. (We never said how much later). He was kind of in awe when we walked into the Dome. This is a boy that recognized the word Twins as baseball, so there was a lot to see! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(side note...ignore the smudge on all of the pictures...somehow the camera &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;lens&lt;/span&gt; had a smudge on it. I'm wondering if that was at all tied to all of the random pictures of feet that were on the memory card)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384758898289702706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqBsDWudzI/AAAAAAAABcY/Ns8cIlEdjy8/s320/IMG_1429.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384758923661558258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqBth32QfI/AAAAAAAABcw/U122Rd9OWDs/s320/IMG_1432.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We brought Tyler with too...although I believe his bad attitude was the reason the Twins lost. (As soon as he found out who the pitcher was, he said that they were going to lose.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384760450523783778" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqDGZ4K4mI/AAAAAAAABdw/k5ikU9Z-XW0/s320/IMG_1441.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Caleb enjoyed all of the food required to eat at the ball park...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384759610582573778" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqCVg2lItI/AAAAAAAABdI/VWdkHtc57vA/s320/IMG_1435.JPG" /&gt;Yummy Dome Dogs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384759602506988594" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqCVCxNfDI/AAAAAAAABdA/bs_KUDaW2uc/s320/IMG_1434.JPG" /&gt;The did let him bring his Twins cup into the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384759622984282114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqCWPDYMAI/AAAAAAAABdQ/_BuYqAanVp8/s320/IMG_1436.JPG" /&gt;But of course, once he saw we had pop, the cup of water was no longer good enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384760460659740098" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqDG_oxTcI/AAAAAAAABd4/j_C5VD1CLro/s320/IMG_1442.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The cotton candy was the big winner, of course. Pure sugar combined with lots of sticky...who doesn't like that?! Look, even Tyler is enjoying it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384759630894819602" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqCWshZaRI/AAAAAAAABdY/3L9q83jozAg/s320/IMG_1437.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384760437400861906" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqDFo_a_NI/AAAAAAAABdg/aJFig77pu0Q/s320/IMG_1438.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384760441185983314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqDF3F3W1I/AAAAAAAABdo/bfPLwRTjEe0/s320/IMG_1439.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But by the end of the 5&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; inning, all of the excitement wore him out. (The fact that he decided not to sleep at all during the 2 hour drive up to the Cities didn't help.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384760465577596050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqDHR9R1JI/AAAAAAAABeA/0a5Hc3xg9TA/s320/IMG_1444.JPG" /&gt;Plus, they lost anyway, so he really didn't miss anything. He also did a whole lot better than the two girls sitting directly behind us who were several years older, they were ready to go by the third inning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;All in all he did awesome. I bet he'll be even more excited about going next year to the outdoor stadium!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4474037948369751189?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4474037948369751189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4474037948369751189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4474037948369751189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4474037948369751189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/09/go-twins.html' title='Go Twins'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SrqBsDWudzI/AAAAAAAABcY/Ns8cIlEdjy8/s72-c/IMG_1429.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4916781625223079059</id><published>2009-09-04T12:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T12:40:40.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, we finally did it. After today, Chris is no longer employed with Schwans. The great part about that is he will no longer be gone 14 hours a day from Monday through Friday. The really scary part about that is that neither of us has another job. Instead, we bought another house and are opening a second daycare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means that neither one of us has a guaranteed income. And by the end of the month, we will no longer have health insurance. (Or, at least Chris, myself &amp;amp; the older boys won’t have any, at least the babies get MA until they’re 21 since they were adopted out of foster care.) Right now, the plan is once we have the second daycare filled up, or close to full, we would try to find a semi-affordable plan that will probably have a substantial deductible. Or if that fails…see if we can purchase insurance through MN-Care. Until then, Chris &amp;amp; the boys are under strict instructions not to get sick or injured in the next several months. And I am planning to “stock up” on my migraine meds as much as I can before the insurance is gone. (And while I’m usually not one to give opinions on any pseudo political issue, at this point, I’d have to say I’m “for” national health care because, well, we no longer have an employer paying for most of ours!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have tried to be semi-intelligent about this business venture. We did create a budget that I hope is pretty accurate. And the house we found is pretty small and doesn’t have a garage (that’s important also because there’s a whole slew of licensing requirements, including a visit from the fire marshal if you have an attached garage), and therefore pretty inexpensive; although we did have to get a little creative with the financing since nobody is willing to finance a house that you are not going to live in these days. But I still go back and forth about 30 times a day between being very excited and scared to death. Hopefully that will go away soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish us luck…or better yet pray for us, cuz if this doesn’t work, we could end up on welfare and then you’ll have to support us! (Tee-hee…that was a JOKE! Again, not against welfare, and I do not judge people who are on welfare…as long as they are attempting to work or find work or complete their education.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4916781625223079059?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4916781625223079059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4916781625223079059' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4916781625223079059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4916781625223079059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/09/more-changes.html' title='More Changes'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5690195491795422233</id><published>2009-09-03T14:07:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T16:59:37.485-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Soccer Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cameron and Amata are both playing soccer this year. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 225px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377363891668728258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SqA7-A7tOcI/AAAAAAAABbg/5p-I3YFmle4/s320/Thursday,+September+03,+2009.jpg" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It’s Amata’s first year, but I thought she’d enjoy it since you pretty much get to run the whole time. She’s been acting a little shy thus far, though. She has kicked the ball a couple of times, though, and the ball has hit her foot a couple of more times, so I think she’d enjoying it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cameron is the one that I always used to say just enjoyed soccer because if you just keep running around the field, nobody knows your not actually kicking the ball. However, I can no longer say that. Last year, with Chris as his coach, his team &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t lose a game, and no other team even scored a goal against them until the very last game. This year, it has been just the opposite. They only have one game left and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hadn&lt;/span&gt;’t scored a single goal…until last night…when CAMERON scored his team’s first, and only, goal so far this year! Don’t get me wrong, it is very much a team sport, but he literally took the ball from mid-field and made the goal all by himself. Way to go Cameron!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It’s too bad that this is the last year he can play unless we can figure out a way to get him on a team in another town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5690195491795422233?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5690195491795422233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5690195491795422233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5690195491795422233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5690195491795422233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/09/soccer-star.html' title='Soccer Star'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SqA7-A7tOcI/AAAAAAAABbg/5p-I3YFmle4/s72-c/Thursday,+September+03,+2009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4774239144497573812</id><published>2009-08-04T14:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T14:37:50.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to me...I guess</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday was my birthday. Chris of course had to work. He left the house around 7:30 am and didn't get home until 10:30 pm. We did go out for lunch on Sunday, after we got haircuts for 5 of the 6 kids. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; will let me put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;her's&lt;/span&gt; in a pony tail, so I haven't had to cut hers yet.) Tyler didn't even complain about the fact that I picked Mexican for lunch...that in itself was a great gift! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also did cake &amp;amp; ice cream on Sunday. I didn't take any pictures of it, but I do have pictures from when we celebrated &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yummy's&lt;/span&gt; birthday. Long story short, for Amata's birthday, we had gotten a Brownie/Ice cream pizza for her cake. Tyler ordered it again as his pick a few weeks ago and when we went to eat it, Caleb went and grabbed birthday candles out of the drawer. I asked him who's birthday it was and he said "Yummy." So we lit the candles and sang happy birthday to Yummy. Then Caleb &amp;amp; Amata blew out the candles and we ate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366193422147540722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniMfHMkVvI/AAAAAAAABbY/pLEuhWIMe14/s320/IMG_1383.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366193410115930130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniMeaYAiBI/AAAAAAAABbI/ej0A3Vuks74/s320/IMG_1385.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Yesterday, on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; birthday, we had daycare kids until about 5:30.  Then I had to rush to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Shopko&lt;/span&gt; and exchange the shin guards that Cameron needs for his game &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;tonight&lt;/span&gt;.  I made it back with about 10 minutes to spare before my online chat for an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ADHD&lt;/span&gt; class I'm taking.  After my class I ran the truck over to the repair shop to get the window fixed and rode my bicycle back home.  I know, you're jealous about how exciting my life is!  But I'm officially another year older.  And yet I'm still not old enough to be shopping for a "mother of the bride" dress no matter what the lady at Dress Barn thought!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4774239144497573812?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4774239144497573812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4774239144497573812' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4774239144497573812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4774239144497573812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-to-mei-guess.html' title='Happy Birthday to me...I guess'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniMfHMkVvI/AAAAAAAABbY/pLEuhWIMe14/s72-c/IMG_1383.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-767799506377015582</id><published>2009-08-04T13:18:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T14:12:39.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Before and After</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniGt29ODeI/AAAAAAAABao/POe1WTvaku8/s1600-h/IMG_1390.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We've lived in this house for almost 9 years now, and we have officially pretty much rebuilt the outside of the house. Unfortunately, we haven't been picking away at it that entire time, everything but the windows has been done in the last 18 months. So, we've spent a good chunk of change the last year, but with the economy being what it was, we got some really good deals. The siding alone was cheaper than the estimates we had gotten for it 4 years earlier. Maybe once we finish paying off our home equity line in a few years, we can start working on the inside of the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am too lazy to find the original picture of the house before we replaced the windows, but here is what the house looked like before we did the siding, roof &amp;amp; landscaping. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366178619248719170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Snh_BeGdtUI/AAAAAAAABaY/0O6kh1Ajz0A/s320/scan0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It looks just fine from a distance, but when you get closer, you see the crumbling concrete patio, the rotten panels in the siding and on the really windy days if you were lucky, you could see some of the shingles blowing off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The patio was the last thing we did. It rained practically every day when they were trying to put it in, but once they were done and we had grass seed to keep wet...no rain! So after weeks of watering, here is the final product.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366187106650984578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniGvgI2kII/AAAAAAAABaw/qF9rgJj5t3A/s320/IMG_1391.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366187061198165986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniGs20Dl-I/AAAAAAAABag/g_w_DQj_Da4/s320/IMG_1389.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366187167953022594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniGzEgZboI/AAAAAAAABbA/9G_9ME24USU/s320/IMG_1393.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366187148969192034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SniGx9yTKmI/AAAAAAAABa4/gnjlGC1fNeM/s320/IMG_1392.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-767799506377015582?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/767799506377015582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=767799506377015582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/767799506377015582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/767799506377015582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/08/before-and-after.html' title='Before and After'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Snh_BeGdtUI/AAAAAAAABaY/0O6kh1Ajz0A/s72-c/scan0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7177662489744038497</id><published>2009-08-04T12:46:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T13:00:42.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm not drinking it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt; was initially placed with us, he was on Soy formula. I really didn't know why, I just figured it was working for him, so I continued giving it to him. (And really, there's no point in asking why, because chances are pretty slim chance that the social worker would know why anyway.  The parents don't usually write detailed care &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;instructions&lt;/span&gt; when their kids get taken away.)  When we went to his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WIC&lt;/span&gt; appointment, I asked if the nurse thought he needed to go to Soy milk, too, instead of whole. She said that typically babies who are on soy formula have outgrown the need for it by the time they turn one, so he would probably be fine with whole milk. And, in order for him to get soy milk through &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;WIC&lt;/span&gt;, he would actually need a doctors note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did say that we could get lactose free milk with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WIC&lt;/span&gt;, so if he didn't do well with whole we should try that.  At first he seemed to do okay with whole milk, but after a couple of days he started getting a light rash on his chest &amp;amp; his back, so I decided to try out the lactose free milk.  (Which, in case you were wondering is twice as much as regular milk...thank goodness for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;WIC&lt;/span&gt;!)  Since we made the switch to lactose free the rash has gone away, so I will probably stick with it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There is just one thing that is bothering me about it, though.  I bought the carton about a week ago, and I just happened to notice the expiration date on it.  September 10, 2009.  Since when does milk last for over a month &amp;amp; a half?  And while I admit I don't like milk anyway, unless it's chocolate, there is no way on earth I would drink that milk on September 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  Is lactose really what makes milk expire so fast?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7177662489744038497?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7177662489744038497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7177662489744038497' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7177662489744038497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7177662489744038497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-not-drinking-it.html' title='I&apos;m not drinking it!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2873257039416757438</id><published>2009-07-30T21:30:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T09:39:39.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dang Them!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;**I decided I needed to edit this post because I broke my rule about not posting about anybody specific who could possibly see this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year has been full of changes for us, and it turns out, the changes aren’t done yet. Schwan’s is turning out to be a bit more than we anticipated. For the past month or so, Chris has been gone from about 8 am until 10 pm Monday through Friday, and there doesn’t seem to be any end in sight. That just does not work very well for us and the 6 kids we currently have. So we’ve been exploring other options. But lately, I’ve been wondering why do we even bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get so tired of seeing people do the absolute minimum that they can just so they can continue to recieve welfare. I actually watched a documentary once where one of the single mothers interview said that she has the "right" to be a stay at home mom for her child. I hear so many people complaining about Human Services and what they expect people to do…like work. (Oh, and the term "work" is used very loosely, as that can mean "looking" for a job, which can mean putting on your application that you may have a conflict with jail in the near future) Now, I’m just saying, if you want to be a stay at home mom, you should probably wait to have a child until you’re in a stable relationship with a partner who can support you and the baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it was a "right" for people to stay home with their kids, there wouldn't be anybody paying into the welfare system to support them. I get that it is a very fine line that the welfare departments are walking. Yes, the children absolutely need to be supported, as it is not their fault who they were born to. But the problem with that system would be the reason my youngest 3 children are so close in age. If you lose your benefits because the county took your child away, the only way to get those benefits back right away is to get pregnant again...because then you get benefits throughout your enire pregnancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this brings me back to my point about why do Chris &amp;amp; I even bother to both work? If he quit at Schwan’s and we just both ran the existing daycare, we should be able to get all kinds of welfare benefits, right? And before I get a bunch of hate mail, I am NOT against welfare, or food stamps or any of that. They are all important programs that people have a legitimate need for. But it was never meant to be a permanent source of income for people who just don’t want to work. And I really get irritated when people who are receiving benefits bitch about being expected to actually look for a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, Chris will continue putting in his time a Schwan’s until one of us can find something better. Dang my parents for teaching me that I actually had to work to earn a living and support my family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2873257039416757438?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2873257039416757438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2873257039416757438' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2873257039416757438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2873257039416757438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/07/dang-them.html' title='Dang Them!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6998105445000813774</id><published>2009-07-27T19:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T19:47:58.212-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Minutes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron are at my sister in laws for the week.  Fun for them…not so much for me.   My last daycare kid didn’t leave until 6, Chris is working until at least 10, we were completely out of milk &amp;amp; I had my online chat for the ADHD class I’m taking.  So, the kids &amp;amp; I rushed to the grocery store (as rushed as you can get with a 4, 2, 1 &amp;amp; 1 year old) to get milk …6 gallons to be exact, because I am NOT dragging them all back to the store again this week.  We got home about 20 so 7, so I had twenty minutes to unload everybody &amp;amp; everything unloaded, put away the milk &amp;amp; get the kids something to eat so I could be online by 7 for my class.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I did it.  I made the kids a wonderfully nutritious meal of bologna &amp;amp; cheese with potato chips.  (I wasn’t in a bologna sort of mood, so I seriously had bread &amp;amp; butter.)  But I got to the laptop and logged on by seven, eating my bread &amp;amp; butter, and waiting for the next 8 minutes for the instructor to finally get logged on.  She had an excuse…something about having to reboot twice, but still.  Even though it wasn’t her fault…if I’d have known I had another 8 minutes maybe I’d have given them some mayo with their bologna or found something else for me to eat!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6998105445000813774?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6998105445000813774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6998105445000813774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6998105445000813774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6998105445000813774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/07/eight-minutes.html' title='Eight Minutes'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3473576066204901845</id><published>2009-07-16T15:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T15:29:01.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parade Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We went to our first parade of the summer last night.  If we were willing to put forth a little more effort to drive to more small town parades, I’m sure we could have made it to at least a dozen by now.  These days, though, making it to FestAg &amp;amp; Kernel Days each summer is about the best we can do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The kids had a good time.  Chris headed up early with Caleb, Amata &amp;amp; Cameron to enjoy some rides, and then Tyler, Baylee &amp;amp; I went up right before the parade with some DQ cheeseburgers for dinner.  (Because nothing says I love you like fat soaked cheeseburgers to clog your arteries)  CJ was at the parade, too, but his paternal grandmother is in town this week, so he hung out with her for the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Caleb, Baylee &amp;amp; Amata all enjoyed the parade, and got more candy than they will ever eat.  But now I can throw away the rest of their Easter candy.  There was a girl sitting about 10 feet down from us who kept running in front of us and taking “our” candy, but when she tried to take my the kids’ candy corn, her parents finally noticed my expression and made her give it back to our kids and told her to stay by them.  After all, it is an unwritten rule at parades that you don’t run in front of people and take the candy thrown to them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata &amp;amp; Caleb had a couple of ride tickets left, so after the parade, we headed over to ride the carousel.  While we were waiting for our turn, a woman came up and said, “hi, I’m J**’s mom.”  She is Amata, Caleb &amp;amp; Baylee’s biological grandmother.  Amata has been in our care for almost 4 years, and I have never seen this woman before in my life.  J**’s cousin, who I do know, was also there, so I do believe that’s who she is, it was just kind odd.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She were nice, she just wanted to take a picture of the kids.  She did ask a few questions about them, and so I told her about Caleb’s speech and Amata’s FAS.  She said that J** was also very aggressive when she was Amata’s age, so according to her, it’s probably just hereditary.  (Because I’m sure she never abused alcohol while she was pregnant.)  I also couldn’t help but wonder to myself if J**’s aggressiveness started before or after mom’s boyfriends began sexually abusing her, because one might think that could cause some undesirable behavior.  I was polite to her, though, and did let her take their picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After that it was definitely time to go home, since it was everybody’s bedtime.  CJ got back about 10 minutes after us, he was so tired he didn’t even notice when I took him out of his car seat and took his jacket off before putting him to bed.  He ended up sleeping until 10 this morning…and then grandma was back around 12 to pick him up again – I could get used to this, but sadly, she heads back to California this weekend.  Guess I’ll just enjoy it while it lasts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3473576066204901845?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3473576066204901845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3473576066204901845' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3473576066204901845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3473576066204901845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/07/parade-fun.html' title='Parade Fun'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8775585367537290088</id><published>2009-07-07T21:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T21:57:05.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching My Breath</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; I’ve been thinking that if I didn’t actually have to write these blog entries, I could probably get a lot more posted.  I think of things I’d like to post about all the time, but I just don’t seem to get them into the computer!  I also think about getting my house cleaned.  Like the whole house all at once, not just one room at a time, but that never seems to happen either.   You’d think by this day &amp;amp; age, somebody would have figured out a way to let you get things done by just thinking about them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, until that happens, we’ll all just have to put up with my sporadic blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June was a very busy month for us.  I think there was only one weekend we were not traveling, and so of course we were at the camper that weekend.  I am so glad we decided to get a seasonal site last summer.  We don’t even have to move it over the winter, and it’s all set up and ready to go whenever we can get out there.  (And they have a baby pool, which is VERY important to me!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to my cousin Tracy’s wedding the last weekend in June.  It was very pretty, and my girls had a blast at the reception.  My sister Megan hit the dance floor with Amata (A.K.A “Mini Meggie”) and Baylee is apparently quite the little groupie!  She would stand on the dance floor for 10 or 15 minutes at a time just staring at them.  At one point the guitar player got down on his knee to play to her.  I’d love to show you some pictures of it…at one point I thought about bringing my camera, but it was a fleeting thought because I completely forgot to grab it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home from the wedding, we stopped at the Mall of America to take the kids to Underwater World.  They all really enjoyed it, although it was quite spendy.  We’ve gone before and I didn’t remember it being so expensive.  (And Caleb &amp;amp; Baylee were both free because they are both under 3, so it wasn’t because there were so many more kids that is seemed expensive.)  Oh well, it was probably worth it since they all really did get a kick out of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there we went to the Rainforest Café for lunch.  They little ones really like seeing the fish &amp;amp; animals there.  It was also a little spendy, but that was probably due to the fact that I completely forgot about the gift card I had in my wallet.  I was ready to head home after that, but for some reason Chris always wants to walk through Nickelodeon Universe.  That’s not a fun area for me to walk through with 5 kids on a weekend…without a stroller.  We made it, though, and finally made our way home to pick up CJ from respite care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Forth of July week &amp;amp; weekend was not so very exciting though.  Unless you consider 2 children under 3 with very runny diapers &amp;amp; vomiting exciting.  I seriously cannot even count how many diapers we had to change.  I chose not to count how many towels, sheets and blankets that had to be washed, because I think it would just depress me.  Caleb seemed to be better by Saturday, so I decided he could go camping with me, the boys &amp;amp; Amata.  We decided to skip heading out to the fireworks show when he threw up at the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately by Monday, they both seemed to be fully recovered.  I am slowly, but surely making through that pile of laundry!  Here’s hoping the rest of July goes better, and it not quite as busy as June was!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8775585367537290088?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8775585367537290088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8775585367537290088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8775585367537290088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8775585367537290088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/07/catching-my-breath.html' title='Catching My Breath'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1311114581577568355</id><published>2009-06-23T10:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:59:13.557-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I’m Sorry Cameron</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have suffered from migraines since Cameron was 3 months old.  And, so, I have always contributed the migraines to being pregnant with him and delivering him…a delivery with very non-effective pain meds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, I started to rethink that.  Tonight, at dinner, during the 25 minute discussion with Tyler about him having to eat a meatball before he could have another cheese filled breadsticks…a meatball that was less than 1 inch in diameter…I really began to rethink that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When Cameron was 3 months old, Tyler would have been 2 ½ years old, about the time he would have started talking with words &amp;amp; sentences.  I think that might be what caused the onset of the migraines.  And here I've been "blaming" Cameron for all of these years!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1311114581577568355?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1311114581577568355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1311114581577568355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1311114581577568355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1311114581577568355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-sorry-cameron.html' title='I’m Sorry Cameron'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6013645571671369591</id><published>2009-06-10T21:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T21:41:49.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What would I do without her</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I took Amata with me last week to Mankato, to get some supplies for CJ &amp;amp; take Baylee to Now-Care (She was not exactly looking her best, with yellow gook coming out of her eyes &amp;amp; her nose).  From the back seat Amata said, “Mom, you need to follow that white line.   Don’t go over the yellow line, just follow the white line.”  And then, “You’re doing a good job, mama.  You’re following the white line.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea who taught my four year old to drive, but thank goodness she was with.  Because I’ve only been driving for over half of my life, so I may not have known to stay between the lines otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did feel a little bit better when she started telling Chris the same thing on the way to my dad’s last weekend.  Apparently, I’m not the only one who needed a little help driving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at least it was better than the new phrase she must have learned from TV…as she was getting out of the car with Chris, she told a nearby bird that she was going to “kick some ass.”  I realize it is not the worst thing she could have said, but still not something I want to hear coming out of my 4 year old’s mouth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6013645571671369591?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6013645571671369591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6013645571671369591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6013645571671369591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6013645571671369591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/06/what-would-i-do-without-her.html' title='What would I do without her'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7787770926160729155</id><published>2009-06-08T14:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T14:32:23.522-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Baby CJ came back last Monday.  Quite honestly, I’m not exactly sure why he was pulled again.  I’m guessing she relapsed, but I’m not sure.  She’s definitely using now, though; she was on a roll on Friday.  First I received a phone call from his great-aunt in that morning.  CJ’s mother apparently texted his paternal grandmother saying that CJ was with his biological father, so they wanted to make sure that CJ was still here.  Then right after lunch I received a phone call from the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Department that they were looking for a potential missing child to see if I had him, because she apparently called 911 saying she just ran CJ over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last I heard she was in jail, I’m not sure if it’s for the fake 911 call or something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last month at my garage sale, I decided to sell our extra car seats.  I figured CJ was with his mom, and it was very unlikely that the county would place another baby with us since we are not wanting to adopt any more children.  So, I do take full responsibility.  If I would have hung on to that until next year, he probably wouldn’t have come back.  His grandmother in California does still want him, so hopefully his parents rights will be terminated soon so that the paperwork can be started for him to go there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7787770926160729155?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7787770926160729155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7787770926160729155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7787770926160729155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7787770926160729155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/06/hes-back.html' title='He&apos;s Back'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1971983919803553734</id><published>2009-05-26T12:46:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T21:29:13.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 4th Birthday, Amata</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata turned 4 on Mother's Day this year. We didn't get to go out on her birthday, though, because we ended up with a couple of sick kids, but she still enjoyed her gifts &amp;amp; ice cream cake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She actually got to open one of her gifts a day early because her auntie, Meggie Pie, was here for the garage sale that weekend. (And don't even try to call her Megan in front of Amata, she will correct you.) She loved her new Baker outfit and all of the goodies that go with it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191009654290162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwrbgMttvI/AAAAAAAABXw/332BWNjG0cI/s320/IMG_1363.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I did end up taking her &amp;amp; Tyler with me to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mankato&lt;/span&gt; to get some groceries and a quick trip to the pet store. Once we got home, she got to open her gifts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191026809236610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwrcgGxbII/AAAAAAAABYI/tP6CabAMLPw/s320/IMG_1366.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got a stuffed monkey with a blanket...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191034814053954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwrc97RPkI/AAAAAAAABYQ/3XHMjFSMx4o/s320/IMG_1367.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191556964766226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwr7XFs0hI/AAAAAAAABYY/aV6HdFAMOzQ/s320/IMG_1368.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Some Moon Sand, which needs to be an outdoor toy because it is NOT just like Play-Do that doesn't dry out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191564880868354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwr70lC9AI/AAAAAAAABYg/rkARIO4yVLo/s320/IMG_1369.JPG" border="0" /&gt;She also got a washable Dora &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Doodle&lt;/span&gt; Mat, however, we did discover that is wasn't the same as the magic markers that will only write on the things it is supposed to write on. These markers show up very well on skin, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191568745075410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwr8C-WEtI/AAAAAAAABYo/d18a8s0QPgA/s320/IMG_1370.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192200946265666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwsg2G2rkI/AAAAAAAABZY/uAiDvv8Yxb0/s320/IMG_1376.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And what was probably her favorite gift, her own digital camera with an LCD screen to preview the pictures...because she really doesn't care if they ever get developed, she just wants to see them right away. (This is my favorite gift, too, as I'm hoping this would stop her from using my digital camera)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191580069572402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwr8tKULzI/AAAAAAAABY4/lZoQXZMvC6Q/s320/IMG_1372.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192184992212610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwsf6rHJoI/AAAAAAAABZA/dkVCi4EMdKk/s320/IMG_1373.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192186868667394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwsgBqflAI/AAAAAAAABZI/Yj62JY7OiCU/s320/IMG_1374.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Caleb decided that if Amata was going to start taking still pictures with her new camera, he would be in charge of the video camera.  (Notice Tyler in the background, excited as always)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwsgjmDrXI/AAAAAAAABZQ/DmPxiCWTdig/s1600-h/IMG_1375.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192195976867186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwsgjmDrXI/AAAAAAAABZQ/DmPxiCWTdig/s320/IMG_1375.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Her cake is actually a brownie ice cream sundae pie from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Schwans&lt;/span&gt;, but she loved it as did the rest of us, '&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cuz&lt;/span&gt; it was yummy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwrb5SGxpI/AAAAAAAABX4/oK9drp9HQxA/s1600-h/IMG_1364.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340191016387790482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Shwrb5SGxpI/AAAAAAAABX4/oK9drp9HQxA/s320/IMG_1364.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192753736267602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwtBBaQt1I/AAAAAAAABaI/Qew9BUeswsY/s320/IMG_1382.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Poor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt;...she always ends up asleep during cake time.  (She was one of the sick kids that day.  Cameron was the other, but he still managed to suck down the cake!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192751353287458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwtA4iHUyI/AAAAAAAABaA/tfzJFCng-E0/s320/IMG_1381.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192746343983122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwtAl3zaBI/AAAAAAAABZ4/FSST5FDTzG8/s320/IMG_1380.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340192740961548930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwtAR0h-oI/AAAAAAAABZw/PbMgbH7QNmQ/s320/IMG_1379.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We did make it to the Wow Zone last weekend to finish her birthday celebration for pizza &amp;amp; games.  And by now, a couple of weeks since her actual birthday, she has even started giving her correct age when people ask how old she is.  Prior to her birthday, she was telling everybody that she was going to be 6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1971983919803553734?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1971983919803553734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1971983919803553734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1971983919803553734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1971983919803553734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-4th-birthday-amata.html' title='Happy 4th Birthday, Amata'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ShwrbgMttvI/AAAAAAAABXw/332BWNjG0cI/s72-c/IMG_1363.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3475082583749615200</id><published>2009-05-22T22:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T22:35:36.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Victory</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was at Wal-Mart last night to pick up necessities for the camper.  Probably the exact same “necessities” that we bought last year and should still be there, but somehow disappeared since last season.  And when I was going to check out, I noticed that they no longer had the 25 items or less signs on the &lt;a href="http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/dear-wal-mart-cashier.html"&gt;self-check-out lanes&lt;/a&gt;.  I got to say, it is pretty sweet to think that not only did somebody actually read the comment I left at Wal-Mart.com, but they even did something about it!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I also noticed that the check-out lane that they keep all of the baby formula in is also no longer a 10 item or less lane.  Of course they waited to change that one until my babies were all done with formula, but it makes me smile none the less, because that is just crazy to think that any parent buying formula would have 10 items or less.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if only I could find the person who keeps buying every single package of hot dog buns…I’d like to have a word with them.  Because, seriously, this is the second time in a row that there have not been any at all.  I don’t mean they didn’t have any good hot dog buns or any really cheap hot dog buns; I mean there was not one single, solitary package of hot dog buns left in the entire store.  (Or at least the bun isle, because I admit, I did not actually look in every single isle.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3475082583749615200?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3475082583749615200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3475082583749615200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3475082583749615200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3475082583749615200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/05/sweet-victory.html' title='Sweet Victory'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8133987721460675066</id><published>2009-05-18T12:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T12:14:43.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Nerve</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;About a week ago, we had our annual garage sale.  It went really good.  Of course, it did rain on Friday but it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t be a sale without some rain!  We were busy the entire sale, we actually set a new record...$1392.00!  My share was about the same as usual, but I really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t have any big stuff; I think almost everyone else made more than in the past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was one thing that really irritated me, though.  At one point I looked down the driveway and noticed a familiar person walking up.  Familiar in a bad way.  It was a former daycare client…one who still owes us quite a bit, even though her children haven’t been here in almost a year.  Now she certainly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;isn&lt;/span&gt;’t the first person who has stiffed us on a bill, but I just think it takes a lot of nerve to come to my garage sale and buy my stuff knowing you owe us money!  I guess it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;shouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t surprise me, a good friend of hers also owes us money &amp;amp; yet still brings her daughter trick-or-treating at our house every year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And as if that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t bad enough, the very next day I got a phone call from a previous client who also owes us money (although not a huge amount).  I chose not to answer because I see no reason to waste my breath on someone like her, but she did leave a voicemail saying she was looking for daycare for her 4 year old.  No mention of the fact that she still owed us from the last time we cared for her daughter over a year ago.  And when I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t call her back after that, she called again a couple of days later.  It makes me think there are probably a few other bridges she has burned with other daycare providers and so now she is trying to find somebody who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t remember her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I’m just saying that if I owed somebody money that I had no intention of paying, I would at least try to avoid from them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8133987721460675066?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8133987721460675066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8133987721460675066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8133987721460675066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8133987721460675066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/05/nerve.html' title='The Nerve'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-510054177465315796</id><published>2009-05-05T19:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T20:57:27.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peanut</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had discovered that on Jeff &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dunham's&lt;/span&gt; website, you can sign up to be notified when an item comes in.  And since my&lt;a href="http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/17-days.html"&gt; Christmas gift for Cameron &lt;/a&gt;didn't happen, I had signed up hoping it would become available by Cameron's birthday, but that would have been too easy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;However, today I received an email from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jeffdunham&lt;/span&gt;.com stating the Peanut doll was now available.  So I went to the website &amp;amp; purchased one.  AND I have received a confirmation email this time, so that's a good sign.  I just wanted to let you know in case any of you wanted to run out &amp;amp; buy one, too.  (an interesting side note, his actual company is called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Brasma&lt;/span&gt;...I just that it was a odd.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-510054177465315796?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/510054177465315796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=510054177465315796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/510054177465315796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/510054177465315796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/05/peanut.html' title='Peanut'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8563303798445442416</id><published>2009-05-01T08:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T12:41:10.874-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Long, CJ</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, it looks like miracles do happen. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CJ's&lt;/span&gt; biological mother actually checked in to a treatment center that allows children to stay there with their mothers. She had checked into a similar one a couple of months, but left early because "the other girls didn't replace the outlet covers after they had used them, and what if he was crawling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;around&lt;/span&gt; with a fork in his mouth?" Personally, I thought a better question might have been why what would a nine month old be doing crawling around with a fork in his mouth, but she never asked for my opinion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She had to make it there for 2 weeks before he could go with her, and since I had no idea if the people at that center would replace the outlet covers, I wasn't certain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt; would be going until the social worker actually arrived here on Wednesday morning to pick him up. (I learned long ago that nothing is certain in foster care until &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;it actually happens)  As long as she follows her "plan" as prescribed in the chemical dependency assessment and she doesn't relapse she'll get to keep him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As far as babies go, he was actually a very easy little guy to take care of, once we came to an agreement on exactly how much he needed to be held. But the fact was, he was still a baby, and we seem to have an abundance of little people around here these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Since he is not with us anymore, and since some people (Megan) called me a sucker for taking him in the first place, I will share the one picture I did take of him right after a bath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330910737152108226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfszEjFEZsI/AAAAAAAABXo/WfXvdI81H_Y/s320/IMG_1351.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;How could anyone have said no to this little cutie?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8563303798445442416?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8563303798445442416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8563303798445442416' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8563303798445442416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8563303798445442416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-long-cj.html' title='So Long, CJ'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfszEjFEZsI/AAAAAAAABXo/WfXvdI81H_Y/s72-c/IMG_1351.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2522862926527483138</id><published>2009-04-29T15:41:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T15:50:56.593-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Discrimination</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A couple of months ago, while on a trip to the pet store (because, seriously, the kids like the pet store more than the zoo!) Cameron was looking at the ferrets. I wasn’t with, so I don’t know exactly how the conversation went, but the result was Chris told Cameron that he could get a ferret if he saved $120.00. I guess Chris forgot that Cameron’s birthday was coming up. So, even before the big garage sale next month, Cameron had his $120.00. Can you feel the joy &amp;amp; excitement oozing out of me? I was trying to get rid of the animals we currently had, not add to them. The only up-side is that the cage stays in Cameron’s room…let’s just hope he doesn’t escape. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, last week, Chris took most of the kids (for some reason he didn’t want to take CJ) to the pet store in Mankato to pick out a ferret for Cameron. Meet Hunter…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330217426168486818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8giZem6I/AAAAAAAABW4/i5jKy3nTDIg/s320/IMG_1354.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330217673236503714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8u6zFXKI/AAAAAAAABXg/-zxQqJN51iI/s320/IMG_1359.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330217669346391554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8usTm9gI/AAAAAAAABXY/gAI9Wc9OrQw/s320/IMG_1358.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330217447086134162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8hwUok5I/AAAAAAAABXQ/czB_1bxUzRs/s320/IMG_1357.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330217443644665650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8hjgH7zI/AAAAAAAABXI/leoQae5S_rA/s320/IMG_1356.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330217439311076482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8hTW6nII/AAAAAAAABXA/4EQ_eIhD164/s320/IMG_1355.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I guess Hunter is actually deaf. Don’t ask me how exactly you go about figuring out that a ferret is deaf, but that’s what they said. And because of that fact, he was half price. Now, anybody who knows me knows that I am all about getting something on sale, so I am not complaining. I’m just curious. Who really cares if the ferret is deaf? It’s not like we have to learn sign language for a ferret, or that he won’t be able to come when he’s called…because although I haven’t studied up on them, I’ve never heard about training a ferret with voice commands. So why do they feel the need to lower the price for him? Is he going to be any less of a ferret because he can’t hear us? If they hadn’t told us he was deaf, we would never have known. The kids seem to love him whether or not he can hear.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2522862926527483138?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2522862926527483138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2522862926527483138' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2522862926527483138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2522862926527483138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/04/discrimination.html' title='Discrimination'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/Sfi8giZem6I/AAAAAAAABW4/i5jKy3nTDIg/s72-c/IMG_1354.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2230849525020822630</id><published>2009-04-25T22:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T22:33:37.615-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank Goodness for EBay</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It would probably be an understatement to say that I am kind of “chesty”.  And I am not bragging when I say that, bigger is certainly not always better.   I cannot just walk into a store to buy a bra, I have to order them online, which gets tricky when finding a comfortable, nice fitting bra; especially ones that cost less than $80.00.  But a few years ago I found “the one”.  It fit well, was comfortable, and most importantly, cost under $30.00.  It’s been a while since I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; ordered any, and it was definitely time.  So I went to the website I get them from and searched for my size, and the bra &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t there.  I searched by the brand and found the bra, only to discover it is being discontinued and they no longer have my size.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was crushed.  It literally took me years to find that bra!  So I spent too much time scouring the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; trying to find anybody that had some left.  I searched using the brand &amp;amp; style number and was having no luck.  So I just searched for the brand and the size and there it was.  A power seller on EBay who had 24 left, and they were only $20 each with free shipping.  I almost bought all 24 of them, but spending $500.00 on bras all at once, so I limited myself to 10…for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2230849525020822630?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2230849525020822630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2230849525020822630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2230849525020822630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2230849525020822630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/04/thank-goodness-for-ebay.html' title='Thank Goodness for EBay'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6538778773197116630</id><published>2009-04-23T21:33:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T22:15:15.889-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Belated Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We were actually able to celebrate Easter on time...I was just not able to get any pictures posted on time. And before we get to the pictures, I just need to stress that the Easter Bunny does not normally bring such big toys for Easter. But, you see, (as I explained to the boys before Easter so they wouldn't think they got shafted) he was out shopping on Black Friday and came across a deal too good to pass up. And since it was more of a summer type of toy, Santa Claus really couldn't use them. And with Caleb's birthday in October, it really wouldn't even work for birthdays. So, Easter it was. Luckily, I also got great deals for the boys, too, so they didn't feel too bad. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We did manage to get the eggs colored before the big day...barely. These pictures were taken around 8:30 Saturday night. Cameron showed the little ones how before they tried their own eggs. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328083734431721666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEn7VRW6MI/AAAAAAAABUQ/qIl2736o4k8/s320/IMG_1315.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328083743507781314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEn73FQlsI/AAAAAAAABUg/XCsXftueLso/s320/IMG_1318.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328083739570399586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEn7oag6WI/AAAAAAAABUY/Cf-ttDDb8Pw/s320/IMG_1317.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328083752598664578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEn8Y8sdYI/AAAAAAAABUw/J1Z2O1iCdq4/s320/IMG_1321.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Tyler was very excited about coloring the eggs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328083746531227426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEn8CWGtyI/AAAAAAAABUo/VvRGkuzTBaA/s320/IMG_1319.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; has to wait until next year to color her own eggs, but she was awesome at supervising the others.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328082338999526946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEmqG4ZZiI/AAAAAAAABUA/xR9Ai50fZ2E/s320/IMG_1313.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was a pretty late night for the Easter Bunny, but he was able to get all of the real &amp;amp; fake eggs hidden, as well as the baskets. He did a pretty good job at hiding them, too. One of the daycare kids just found one of the fake eggs today, and there is still one more missing. (Notice, I referred to the Easter Bunny who cannot remember where the eggs were hidden as a male.) All of the kids enjoyed finding the eggs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328084612111336978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEoua4fBhI/AAAAAAAABVA/im6PEwOl3KI/s320/IMG_1325.JPG" border="0" /&gt;That is an egg in Caleb's hand, it just happened to be right next to the TV where &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;SpongeBob&lt;/span&gt; was on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328084608427433954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEouNKLH-I/AAAAAAAABU4/mXCnNyokEAM/s320/IMG_1324.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328084616306057602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEouqglYYI/AAAAAAAABVI/QjNrTFGbV4I/s320/IMG_1326.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328084620373110674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEou5qPr5I/AAAAAAAABVQ/rY8CvsU2od4/s320/IMG_1327.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Although, obviously, Tyler was the most excited.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328084622154616530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEovAS_TtI/AAAAAAAABVY/FITGzMFomV4/s320/IMG_1329.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The baskets were pretty well hidden, but eventually they all found their loot. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085317682416242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEpXfVvSnI/AAAAAAAABWA/i6WxXiNFBTg/s320/IMG_1338.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085304922995122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEpWvzp-bI/AAAAAAAABVw/PKcKDhixr4g/s320/IMG_1335.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085313812652642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEpXQ7HYmI/AAAAAAAABV4/fv2SREWCV-I/s320/IMG_1336.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328089324784704546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEtAu9X3CI/AAAAAAAABWo/X6esRJ1kjEo/s320/IMG_1331.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Tyler had to be threatened with not getting a basket again before he got off of his behind to go outside &amp;amp; look. He did admit it was worth the effort, though.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085298380125810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEpWXbttnI/AAAAAAAABVo/M5X3rvkzX2w/s320/IMG_1333.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The little kids hung outside for a while after that to try out their new wheels.  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085861467291842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEp3JGKAMI/AAAAAAAABWY/ER5-IaBEhxg/s320/IMG_1343.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085851423559938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEp2jri0QI/AAAAAAAABWI/bfosQ_exVx4/s320/IMG_1341.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085856019109170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEp20zNVTI/AAAAAAAABWQ/0Hj-hp6EdGE/s320/IMG_1342.JPG" border="0" /&gt;There were some crashes.  The first one recorded shows the blue truck running into the pink one, and some people complain about woman drivers.  (There was a rumor going around that the pink truck may have actually run into the Suburban before this, but there is no evidence to support that rumor.)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328085864909932946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEp3V68iZI/AAAAAAAABWg/QgfhaeR9FGE/s320/IMG_1348.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I hope you all had a great Easter!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6538778773197116630?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6538778773197116630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6538778773197116630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6538778773197116630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6538778773197116630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/04/belated-easter.html' title='Belated Easter'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SfEn7VRW6MI/AAAAAAAABUQ/qIl2736o4k8/s72-c/IMG_1315.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6347485958664767593</id><published>2009-04-14T21:59:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T09:25:57.869-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Cameron</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVPTsXNQOI/AAAAAAAABTg/ajoC4TLD6yg/s1600-h/IMG_1310.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was Cameron’s birthday on Friday…which is actually the exact same day he was born. It has taken 11 years for his birthday to fall on Good Friday. I specifically remember this, because in case you were wondering, there is absolutely NOTHING to watch on a hospital TV on Easter Weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;His birthday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t start out all that great. I had to go to pick up the tables I won on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ebay&lt;/span&gt; for my garage sale (I saved over $60 than if I had bought them new, and got an extra 8 foot table!), and I also wanted to get to the Social Security office so that I could finally apply for Caleb &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt;’s new cards, because in case I forgot to mention it, a mere 6 months after their adoptions were finalized I finally received Caleb’s new birth certificate. I actually went alone, leaving Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron to watch the little ones. I might have felt bad, but I did ask them if they wanted me to take one of the babies with me, but they said no (I believe it was the dollar signs running through their heads.) I walked in the door to hear Tyler telling Cameron how much money they made. The house was a disaster and I had a bunch of papers on the table, which one of the kids had gotten into (okay, so it did cross my mind to put them away before I left, but for whatever reason I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t. Let’s pretend I did it on purpose to test them), and they did not change a single diaper the entire time I was gone – &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; was soaked and the other two &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;weren&lt;/span&gt;’t much better. So, after I made them change all 3 diapers, we had to have a little chat about what I expected to happen when I paid them to watch and care for the babies…primarily that I expect them to watch and care for the babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There was one positive note. I had to use the trailer to get all 5 of the tables, which is fine…as long as I do not have to back up. Even if I wanted to try at this point, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t be allowed since the last time I tried to back up with a trailer I put a big dent in Chris’ pretty red truck. I get the whole theory of backing up with a trailer, but it never works for me. Since Chris was working, that left me in a little bit of a pickle of how to unload the trailer &amp;amp; remove it from the Suburban so we could meet Chris for birthday fun later that afternoon. Luckily, when I got home, there was a message from some friends of ours asking if they could borrow the trailer. I called them back right away and said they were more than welcome to use it…as soon as they could help me get backed into the driveway &amp;amp; removed from the truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Once that was done, and the kitchen was picked up a little, we headed off to meet Chris at the WOW Family Fun Center. They have an arcade, mini golf, laser tag &amp;amp; bowling. The cool thing about their arcade is you actually put money onto cards, similar to a hotel key, and they swipe it to play the games, and that keeps track of the tickets earned. Cameron’s favorite game is the Big Bass Fishing game, so that is where he went first…and proceeded to with the jackpot of 1000 tickets. That pretty much made it the coolest birthday ever for him. He won a jackpot on another game, too, although that was only 183 tickets. Caleb had a blast pretending to drive the car game, and Amata found a dancing game, so she was all good. We had some pizza, the boys played laser tag, and we then we headed home to enjoy some cake &amp;amp; open gifts (after I ran to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt; Mart to buy a cake and then went home to quick wrapped the gifts, because I’m very organized like that).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748121498114290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVONGxS2PI/AAAAAAAABRw/B_V3VfPJRPE/s320/IMG_1296.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748126307318130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVONYr5eXI/AAAAAAAABR4/a5cWcAEiz2o/s320/IMG_1297.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Tyelr&lt;/span&gt; was especially excited about singing Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Birthday&lt;/span&gt; to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748135323957746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVON6RoefI/AAAAAAAABSI/FcjA_PKlgTA/s320/IMG_1299.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748132496950098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVONvvnw1I/AAAAAAAABSA/8keFOWyUakE/s320/IMG_1298.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think he had fun.  And luckily, Caleb &amp;amp; Amata were there to help him open his gifts, as that can be a very daunting task to do alone.  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748703319284738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVOu-ORXAI/AAAAAAAABS4/vhxV0vadaeQ/s320/IMG_1305.JPG" border="0" /&gt;He got a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;PSP&lt;/span&gt; game, &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748693930723282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVOubP3R9I/AAAAAAAABSo/342Oqdg9flQ/s320/IMG_1303.JPG" border="0" /&gt;a jacket, &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748685873328274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVOt9O1MJI/AAAAAAAABSY/c28XynOsUds/s320/IMG_1301.JPG" border="0" /&gt;a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Giga&lt;/span&gt; Ball &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324748695640501666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVOuhngbaI/AAAAAAAABSw/XNKp_Yj5waE/s320/IMG_1304.JPG" border="0" /&gt;(Tyler was a little jealous about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;giga&lt;/span&gt; ball.)  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324749325066218818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVPTKaSrUI/AAAAAAAABTQ/pkKjqSsc_qM/s320/IMG_1308.JPG" border="0" /&gt;and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Struxx&lt;/span&gt; kit to make several different electronic animals, which he spent the next 3 days putting it together.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324749320383373298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVPS490H_I/AAAAAAAABTA/Dm03_SuoEws/s320/IMG_1306.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6347485958664767593?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6347485958664767593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6347485958664767593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6347485958664767593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6347485958664767593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/04/happy-birthday-cameron.html' title='Happy Birthday, Cameron'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SeVONGxS2PI/AAAAAAAABRw/B_V3VfPJRPE/s72-c/IMG_1296.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3259718955402734075</id><published>2009-04-08T21:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T21:58:03.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is such a simple word...only two letters...only one syllable...and yet at times it can be so hard to say.  Granted if you ask my kids, they'll tell you that I say it all the time.  And I would agree, I really don't have much trouble saying no to them, or to the daycare kids, or to telemarketers.  But when someone I know, or kind of know, asks me for help, if I can help, even if I really don't want to, I just can't seem to say no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, about a month ago, I got a phone call from somebody looking for daycare for a 9 month old.  Since I already have a infant part time &amp;amp; a full time infant who will be starting back next week, I'm technically full.  But they went on to explain that it was for an emergency "relative placement" foster child, and that is should only be for a couple of weeks because the mom was supposed to be going to a treatment facility that allows the children to join their mother.  And so, since the part time infant's mom was actually on medical leave for several weeks, I said I would watch him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You'd think I'd never been involved with foster care before!  I mean, really, the last time they placed a child with us and said it would only be for a couple of weeks, he ended up staying with us for a year and five days.  So it really shouldn't have surprised me when mom failed to go to treatment.  I mean, if anything, I should have felt a little badly for not warning the aunt that it rarely goes as quickly as anyone hopes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The main problem with that was probably the fact that this aunt is a single mother, who has a full time job including most Saturdays and her youngest child is almost 12.  She was not exactly wanting to have an infant for an extended period of time.  So it really shouldn't have surprised me when the phone rang about 2 weeks ago with the caller id showing it was Human Services.  Although I did have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WIC&lt;/span&gt; appointment coming up, so maybe it was just my reminder call???  Of course not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was the social worker who handles the cases in my county involving children 8 &amp;amp; under.  He said he had an infant in a relative placement in town that was not working out, and was wondering if we would consider having him placed with us.  My brain said NO...what kind of crazy person who already has 5 children, 3 of which are between 18 mos &amp;amp; 4 years old would even consider taking on a 9 month old?  I guess that would be me...because my mouth said yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He did say that they were still trying to find another relative to take him, although it was kind of unlikely.  Which meant there was still a chance we wouldn't get him.  And when the social worker didn't call back for 5 days, I was really starting to think we were off the hook.  And then he called last Thursday and said he was about 99% sure the child would be placed with us.  And then he called Friday and said that he had officially placed the child with us as of that morning, and since he was already here for daycare, he'd just send out the paperwork.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And so, in addition to our own Caleb, we now have a Baby Caleb staying with us.  We've decided to call him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt; to avoid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;confusion&lt;/span&gt;.  The only good thing is that he paternal grandmother does want to adopt him, but she lives in another state right now, so she can't have him unless the parents rights are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;terminated&lt;/span&gt; because the parents have to be able to visit him while he is in foster care.  So, I can hope that it is a short term placement, in all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;likelihood&lt;/span&gt;, it will be several months so we just have to remember that at least we will NOT be adopting him!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm not planning to post a picture of him since he is in foster care, and isn't going to be a permanent member of our family, so you'll just have to take my word for it that he is absolutely adorable!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3259718955402734075?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3259718955402734075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3259718955402734075' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3259718955402734075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3259718955402734075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/04/no.html' title='No'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6129649461116244881</id><published>2009-03-31T10:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T10:05:48.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Probably TMI</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lately, it has become harder &amp;amp; harder to get Caleb to sleep before 10, which is my mandatory bedtime...especially on a weeknight.  And, I just haven't had the heart or the energy to use the Super Nanny technique of placing him in his bed and then spending the next hour or more placing him back into his bed every time he gets up.  I know the time will come, soon, when we just have to bite the bullet &amp;amp; do it, but not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, there are many nights when Caleb ends up coming to bed with us in our bed.  (To be honest, he ends up in our bed every night, but sometimes he does sleep in his bed for a few hours first...it's all in the name of sleep for mom &amp;amp; dad)  We usually watch the 10 PM news and kiss good night and go to sleep.  Lately, however, Caleb has been hijacking my goodnight kiss.  When Chris leans over to kiss me, Caleb pops his head up &amp;amp; gives him a kiss.  I mean, it's bad enough he's stealing my bed, but now my kisses?  I think he just knows he's so darn adorable that I won't do anything to him for it!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6129649461116244881?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6129649461116244881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6129649461116244881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6129649461116244881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6129649461116244881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/probably-tmi.html' title='Probably TMI'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-252668587710329510</id><published>2009-03-30T21:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T21:31:51.917-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After Chris got home from work tonight &amp;amp; we had dinner, we sat down on the couch to relax &amp;amp; watch some TV. At the time, Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron were downstairs with the babies. Not surprisingly, though, it didn't take too long for the little people to come up &amp;amp; join us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt;, in fact, decided she wanted to sit right in the middle of Chris &amp;amp; I. So, I lifted her up onto the couch and plopped her down. But she kept squirming around until her feet were resting on my legs. And even then, she kept saying "mama" and whining until I looked down &amp;amp; started rubbing her feet. She sat there for at least 10-15 minutes while I massaged her feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can imagine they must have been pretty tired, though. I mean what a tough life that little girl leads. Wake up, have somebody change your diaper, dress you, and get your breakfast. Play for a while, whine for more milk, have somebody change your diaper &amp;amp; make your lunch. Take a nap, wake up, have somebody change your diaper &amp;amp; get you a snack. Play for a while. Have somebody else change your diaper &amp;amp; make you dinner. Whew...I'm surprised she made it through the day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;course&lt;/span&gt;, with a face like this....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319173812947408690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SdGAZpNKVzI/AAAAAAAABRo/Zt1GCtLM8xE/s320/Baylee+9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;how could I refuse?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-252668587710329510?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/252668587710329510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=252668587710329510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/252668587710329510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/252668587710329510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/tough-life.html' title='Tough Life'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SdGAZpNKVzI/AAAAAAAABRo/Zt1GCtLM8xE/s72-c/Baylee+9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4279804097555017792</id><published>2009-03-27T10:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T11:22:56.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Culture</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My youngest 3 LOVE music.  All three of them regularly give us concerts, complete with microphones &amp;amp; dancing.  (Sadly, since Caleb does not have much a vocabulary, his concerts kind of sound like a dying animal, but Chris says I can't tell him to please top)  Practically since birth, anytime they hear music they start to dance.  The Toddler Tunes DVD is still one of their favorites, we play it at least once a day, and the also like to watch American Idol with me.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Lately, however, I'm wondering if we need to expose them to a little more culture.  Currently, their favorite song is the McDonald's Fillet-O-Fish commercial.  We have to rewind it &amp;amp; watch it again, at least 3 times whenever it comes on the TV and they get up &amp;amp; dance to it every single time.  I admit, it is a catchy tune, but I don't know that I need to hear it over &amp;amp; over &amp;amp; over again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4279804097555017792?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4279804097555017792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4279804097555017792' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4279804097555017792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4279804097555017792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/culture.html' title='Culture'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7225979554598545339</id><published>2009-03-23T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T10:02:35.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Preschool</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After several months of working with the school, Amata is finally receiving early intervention services from the school.  The issue pretty much boiled down to what exactly constitutes a need.  The professionals at the Development &amp;amp; Behavior clinic who diagnosed her with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome were all under the impression that with that diagnosis alone she would qualify for service, but they were also pretty surprised that she hadn’t qualified even without the diagnosis.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ECSE teacher with the school, however, contacted the state who told her that Amata still had to “show a need”, but they didn’t define exactly what a need was.  She assumed that meant Amata needed qualify under the same standards that a child without FAS would have to show, and when she evaluated Amata at the beginning of this process, Amata did not qualify.  So, she basically said we’d have to wait until we received the written report from the clinic &amp;amp; hope that there would be a specific need documented in that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That teacher was actually on medical leave when we received the report, so I emailed the state to get a clarification as to what this “need” would be.  I actually didn’t think their response was very helpful, but when the teacher got back from medical leave, she said it was more information than she had ever gotten out of the state; they basically stated that the need didn’t have to be as great as a child without an FAS diagnosis.  So, a meeting was set up with us, the teacher, her supervisor, and Amata’s preschool teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her preschool teacher said that she is beginning to see a growing gap between Amata &amp;amp; the other kids in her class.  She also said that if there isn’t another adult helping with Amata’s class, she would not feel comfortable taking the class outside.  Towards the end, the ESCE teacher still sounded like she didn’t think Amata would quality, but thankfully her supervisor spoke up.  He went though the items he had jotted down during the meeting, and said that with everything we had discussed, he didn’t see how they could say that Amata did not show a need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she is now going to school on the school bus 2 mornings a week, in addition to the one morning a week she goes to regular preschool.  She started about a week ago, but it didn’t quite go off without a hitch.  The first morning, we waited for the bus.  When it got here, I walked her to the door, and stood outside the door until she got onto the bus.  About 20 minutes later I got a call from the ESCE teacher.  She said the bus driver called her to tell her that I didn’t  physically walk Amata onto the bus &amp;amp; buckle her into her booster seat…I wasn’t aware that I needed to.  But what killed me was the fact that the bus driver had to call the teacher so the teacher could call me…she couldn’t have just gotten my attention while I was standing in the doorway 20 feet away.  But oh well, I’m still just happy that she is getting services!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7225979554598545339?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7225979554598545339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7225979554598545339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7225979554598545339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7225979554598545339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/preschool.html' title='Preschool'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8613921100200536439</id><published>2009-03-19T10:49:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T11:00:04.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Information</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Did you ever wonder what would happen if you tried to turn on the toaster when there was a cardboard box sitting on top of it? I guess Amata was wondering, so she tried it....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314927076333070210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ScJqBCfwJ4I/AAAAAAAABRg/0c6JmiJA3Hg/s320/IMG_1280.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Turns out it will set that box on fire. Dang, maybe if I wouldn't have noticed it right away, we could have gotten a new kitchen out of the deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Maybe we could use this as a basis for Cameron's science experiment...try see how many different things a toaster can start on fire.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8613921100200536439?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8613921100200536439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8613921100200536439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8613921100200536439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8613921100200536439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/did-you-ever-wonder-what-would-happen.html' title='Good Information'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/ScJqBCfwJ4I/AAAAAAAABRg/0c6JmiJA3Hg/s72-c/IMG_1280.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6670254746947992002</id><published>2009-03-13T22:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T20:41:13.120-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've really tried hard to not comment on Nadya Suleman, but it's just getting to be too much for me and I need to vent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've watched too many of her interviews, and have gotten more irritated each time. In one of her first interviews, she made a comment about this being "God's will". Give me a break. I'm thinking it was more God's will that she NOT have 14 children…I mean to me, blocked fallopian tubes might have been more of a sign. I am not against infertility treatments at all, but this woman &amp;amp; her doctor obviously crossed the line, having 6 embryos implanted into a single, unemployed woman who already had 6 children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I would love to know how she could even afford the IVF, given the fact that she was on food stamps (temporary or not, it is still public assistance). To be perfectly honest, even her fingernails bother me. My husband &amp;amp; I both work over 40 hours a week (admittedly, I do daycare out of my home, but that is most certainly a JOB) to support our 5 children, and I do not have the time or the extra money to spend on my nails. I would also like to know how she is getting SSI for her children whose disability is ADHD? My daughter had ADHD and FAS, but we do not receive SSI. (Okay, so admittedly, that may have something to do with the fact that I have not applied for it, but still…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And then to top it all off, I watched Dr. Phil yesterday to see all of the things being given to Nadya. I understand the Angels in Waiting, any sane person knows that is it impossible for her to care for 8 preemies by herself, not to mention the other 6 children. Without it, there is no doubt these babies would end up in foster care, costing the taxpayers even more money. But then, there was a general contractor donating his services, a flooring company donating flooring for the entire house, and another company providing a complete nursery for all 8 babies. (And again, yes, they will need cribs, but I think the simple models Wal-Mart has for under $100 would probably be sufficient.) My issue with it all is that I feel like we are again rewarding negative behavior. I realize the children have to be cared for, it just bugs me that their mom is getting things that I personally feel are not necessities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The fact is there is simply no way that one person can provide for 14 children, not only financially, but emotionally. We "only" have five children, and there are two of us, and I often times feel that we are stretched too thin when it comes to giving all of our children the attention they deserve. Plain &amp;amp; simple, her decisions are just very selfish and her children &amp;amp; the taxpayers are the ones who will pay the price. I'm just thankful I don't live in California…those taxpayers will be paying even more than the rest of us! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6670254746947992002?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6670254746947992002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6670254746947992002' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6670254746947992002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6670254746947992002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/enough.html' title='Enough'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8364434170873275986</id><published>2009-03-10T21:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T21:25:29.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Daylight Savings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I would just like to say that the moron who invented Daylight Savings time should be shot.  (Yes, I realize that since it has been going on like forever, he has probably already passed away)  And why does it have to be early Sunday morning?  Wouldn't it be better for most people to change them Saturday morning?  At least then, in theory, we could try to adjust to the change on Sunday, before most of us have to go back to work/school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;It is not natural to just tell your body (or the body of a 1, 2, or 3 year old) that it is now 9:00, not 8:00.  Which means that the hour of time that is "lost" when the clocks are set back is an hour of sleep.  And sleep is one of those areas that I should not have less of.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Top it all off with a 3 year old getting an ear infection and it makes for one very crabby Monday!  This is definitely the time of the year that I begin to miss Arizona, big time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8364434170873275986?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8364434170873275986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8364434170873275986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8364434170873275986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8364434170873275986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/daylight-savings.html' title='Daylight Savings'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5560173887264578385</id><published>2009-03-06T13:44:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:29:27.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Five Letter Word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday, Caleb came up to me pointing at his right ear and said ouwie. And, like most parents, I self diagnosed him with an ear infection and decided that after daycare, I would run him over to urgent care "quick" before Cameron's band concert. They actually have an Express Care, too, that only treats specific things, one of which is an ear infection, but, just as my luck seems to go, they were closed last night due to staffing, so we made our way to the urgent care, or same day clinic, or whatever they are calling it these days. Last month when we went there for the strep tests, we were the only ones there. Last night, when I only had 2 hours before Cameron's band concert to drive the 20 minutes to the clinic, see the doctor, pick up the prescription and drive 20 minutes home, there were like 20 people there. We spent 2 hours and 15 minutes at the clinic…135 minutes…and that didn't include the drive time. So needless to say, I completely missed Cameron's concert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And then, as the doctor was checking him she said, "I'm afraid he is looking a lot like most of my patients today, they came down with the nasty virus that's going around." She checked his ears and said that neither one of them was infected. They were actually retracted (or something like that) because of his head cold and that's why they hurt. His glands were swollen and his throat was red so she did a strep test…negative. We wasted over 3 hours &amp;amp; missed Cameron's concert because Caleb has a V-I-R-U-S! I realize it is nobody's fault, but I really hate that word! What it basically means is, "so sorry you wasted your time and your child feels like crap, but there is nothing we can do for him." She said it has been lasting 3-4 days and just keep giving him Tylenol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The only semi-bright spot was that since I didn't know how much Tylenol we had at home, we stopped at the hospital pharmacy to see how over prices theirs was…for a big bottle of generic Tylenol it was only $1.44!! I may have to start going there for my over the counter meds!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5560173887264578385?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5560173887264578385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5560173887264578385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5560173887264578385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5560173887264578385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/five-letter-word.html' title='A Five Letter Word'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1961305871669785511</id><published>2009-03-03T10:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T21:12:44.589-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend of Travel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was traveling this weekend to go to my mom's wedding (which was beautiful!). Since the ceremony was in Alabama, however, I was traveling to &amp;amp; from the wedding alone – kind of weird not having little people at my feet 22 hours a day! The flight down was fabulous. I made it through security with no problems…no small feat considering I haven't flown in a plane in over 8 years…before 9-1-1. I had one layover, and both flights left on time, and actually they both arrived 15 minutes early! The only minor hiccup was that the bathroom on the second flight was out of commission…something they failed to mention until AFTER they had closed the doors. But I survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The trip back home, however, was not quite as smooth. I arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare. I did make it through security, but did get scolded for having a bottle of water (that I bought inside the airport) in my carry-on bag, and for putting a bag of souvenirs on top of my laptop…oops! I got to my gate to discover that the first leg of my flight was late. The plane that was supposed to take me from Pensacola to Memphis was delayed because that particular plane was actually coming from Memphis, and they had a lot of snow there. So we got in to Memphis about an hour late; or more specifically, approximately 10 minutes AFTER the connecting flight left for Minneapolis leaving approximately 30 of us scrambling to get to Minneapolis from Memphis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was able to get rerouted to Milwaukee and then onto Minneapolis, arriving a little over 2 hours after I was originally supposed to get to Mpls. We boarded the plane to Milwaukee around 2:30, which was when it was supposed to have been in the air, only to discover that the pilot had not actually arrived yet. Apparently, he is a very important part of the crew, since they were not willing to leave without him . Now in his defense, there had been snow in Memphis (which I hear they are not exactly used to), and he was apparently called in late. But, none the less, that left several of us stranded again, since we would not be able to make the connecting flight in Milwaukee. There were 7 of us that decided we would take our chances being stranded in Memphis if we weren't able to get on the stand-by flight that left a few hours later, rather than getting stranded in Milwaukee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The only saving grace in the entire mess was Donald, the customer service agent at the gate. That poor man had actually been called in on his day off, too, and then was assigned to a flight that didn't yet have a crew to fly the plane, and a ton of people stranded from cancelled or late flights, but he worked with all of us to help get us home. Although he of course couldn't guarantee that we'd get on the next flight, he said based on how the other flights had been going that day, he said he was pretty sure we'd all make it on that flight. And he was right. All seven of us did make it onto the next flight, which was a direct flight to Minneapolis, so there was no fear of missing another connection. However, Donald did not warn us that the basketball team &amp;amp; cheerleaders from NDSU would also be on the plane. Three of which were directly in front of me, rocking out to their iPods… and the fact that they don't serve Diet Coke on the plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Once I arrived in Minneapolis, I found my car and started my two hour drive home. But even that had a couple of issues. First of all, to whoever makes those little blue signs on the interstate telling you what restrooms, and gas stations are at the next exit…if the restaurant wanting to advertise on your sign is SEVEN miles from the actual exit, it really has no business even being listed on the sigh. How many people are really going to drive 14 miles round trip just for a chicken soft taco? And to the gas station I stopped at instead since I wasn't driving 14 miles out of my way for a taco…How in the world do you run completely out of Diet Coke? No cans, no bottle, nothing??? And then when I decided I'd have a Diet Dr Pepper instead and grab some chapstick for my very chapped lips, you were also completely out of chapstick, and the Dr Pepper was not even cold. What kind of a convenience store are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I did finally make it home around 11 pm on Sunday night…only 5 hours after I originally anticipated and a wee bit exhausted, but at least I was home! I don't anticipate that I'll be making any more cross country trips in the near future! Or if I do, I think we will probably be driving it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1961305871669785511?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1961305871669785511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1961305871669785511' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1961305871669785511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1961305871669785511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/03/weekend-of-travel.html' title='Weekend of Travel'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6837083437655226599</id><published>2009-02-27T10:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T10:17:54.417-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Will it Ever End</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;When I left my job with the city in October to take over the daycare, I honestly thought that I would have so much time to&lt;span style='text-decoration:line-through'&gt; play &lt;/span&gt;work on the computer and update my blog almost daily.  When I wasn't getting as much done as I had hoped, I just thought it was because I was still getting used to the daycare schedule, and then I thought it was because I was trying to get my Christmas shopping done.  And then when the new year came around, first it was because of all of the birthday's in January, and the abundance of snow days.  And then came February and because I am still helping out a little bit at city hall, answering questions for the girl that took my old job, and the audit is coming up next week, so I've been spending a lot of extra time there.  In theory, come next week, the audit will be over with, and I shouldn't have to spend much time with that, but then, of course it will be time to start getting things organized for our annual garage sale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Of course, my fear is that given the fact that I have 10 children running around my house during the day…and five children of my own that are ALWAYS around…I may never get to a point of being caught up.  I mean these kids seriously expect to be fed multiple times a day!  And my own kids seem to think they need to have clean clothes to wear, and baths, and more.  So, maybe in 5 or 10 years I'll be able to catch up a little more…although I certainly won't be holding my breath!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6837083437655226599?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6837083437655226599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6837083437655226599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6837083437655226599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6837083437655226599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/02/will-it-ever-end.html' title='Will it Ever End'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3675335294303791438</id><published>2009-02-14T22:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T22:23:57.799-06:00</updated><title type='text'>D.A.S.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Caleb had his appointment with the Developmental &amp;amp; Behavior Clinic a few weeks ago.  Our main concern for him, of course, is his delayed speech.  But since we knew his biological mother got a minor consumption when she was 5 months pregnant with him, there was always a concern of fetal alcohol syndrome.  The only "good" thing was that she was in in-patient treatment during the first trimester of this pregnancy, so in theory, she was probably not using, or at least not using as much, during that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;He saw five professionals at this clinic, including a speech pathologist, an occupational therapist, a pediatrician, a psychologist, and a psychiatrist.  (And sadly, I must admit, I still don't really know the difference between a psychologist &amp;amp; a psychiatrist).  At the staffing at the end of the day, they gave their diagnosis.  Although we knew he had fetal alcohol exposure, they did not feel he had fetal alcohol syndrome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;What they did diagnose him with was &lt;a href='http://www.apraxia-kids.org/'&gt;Developmental Apraxia of Speech&lt;/a&gt;.  Basically, for some reason, his brain isn't getting the correct signals to his mouth needed to form the words.  They don't know what actually causes this disorder, but the main treatment for it is repetitive speech therapy.  Most children with apraxia do eventually learn to speak clearly.  And in the last several months that the school has been working with him, we have seen improvement.  He has learned to say some very important words, such as mine and spot.  (And just so you know, his spot is his spot, even if he wasn't sitting in it.)  Hopefully we will be able to find a speech therapist who works after hours…I have a feeling that we'll end up having to contact the county for help with that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3675335294303791438?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3675335294303791438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3675335294303791438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3675335294303791438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3675335294303791438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/02/das.html' title='D.A.S.'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1186406353381494447</id><published>2009-02-04T14:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:30:46.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cameron complained that he had a sore throat on Monday. I really wanted him to go to school, but I was a little nervous that I'd get a call from the school half way through the day that I had to pick him up…or at least start calling around to find somebody who could pick him up for me. So, I let him stay home. Since there have been 2 daycare kids that were out with strep in the past few weeks, I decided that I would run him to urgent care after daycare to make sure he didn't have it. I also figured if I had was going to take him in, I might as well have them swab the other kids, too. I had no desire to run a different child to the doctor every day this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The nurse that was working urgent care last night is actually the nurse at the clinic here in town, so she completely understood why I wanted all of the kids checked out, whether they had symptoms or not. The doctor, however, didn't seem to get it. No matter how many times that I explained to him that strep had been around the daycare, and since I had one child with a sore throat, I wanted them all checked because I have 5 kids, a very full daycare, and a husband with a full time job which makes getting to the doctor for simple things like strep tests a little difficult. Why does he even care how many I want swabbed….the nurses do all of that part anyway! And I was not asking for antibiotics if they weren't needed; I just wanted to make sure it wasn't needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, for each of the kids, he kept asking if they were running a fever, and when I said no, he kept saying that usually if they have strep they would also have a fever. When he got to Baylee, he did at least discover that she had an ear infection, so at least the trip wouldn't be a total waste, regardless of how the strep tests turned out. Now, I admit, Amata had absolutely no symptoms and the doctor made sure to point out to me that she seemed to be perfectly healthy, and he didn't consider her a risk for strep at all. At least Baylee &amp;amp; Caleb had a little cough &amp;amp; runny nose. And the rapid tests for all of them did come back negative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, as I am expecting my mother of the year trophy to arrive in the mail any day now, I made Cameron go to school Tuesday even though he said his stomach hurt a little…I said the doctor said he wasn't contagious so there was no reason for him to stay home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And then, about an hour after school started, the clinic called to let me know that a couple of the strep cultures did turn positive over night. Cameron's was one, which didn't surprise me, but Amata's was the other one! While I would have preferred to not have strep around here, it does make me feel a little bit vindicated, since the one test the doctor thought was a complete waste actually turned out to be strep. They were nice enough to also give us a prescription for Caleb, too, since chances are pretty high that if Cameron &amp;amp; Amata have it, he'd probably get it in the end. Then, today, the clinic called again to say that Baylee's culture turned positive…I didn't know they kept checking them for more than the one day. Luckily, since she had the ear infection she was already on antibiotics, so she shouldn't be contagious anymore, either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hopefully, we will have some happier campers here in the next day or so, once those antibiotics start to do their job!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1186406353381494447?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1186406353381494447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1186406353381494447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1186406353381494447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1186406353381494447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/02/strep.html' title='Strep'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2076458663503547883</id><published>2009-02-02T16:27:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T16:35:16.718-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Safety</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I really didn't care who won the Super Bowl last night, in fact Cameron &amp;amp; I missed the first half because it was his afternoon out. But I must say, it would have been really cool if this safety that Caleb called&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298330955218733682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SYdz7phEynI/AAAAAAAABRI/70nhfoYzpxg/s320/IMG_1245.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;had lead to them winning the game.  My ball obsessed son learned the sign from the previous play when the Cardinal players thought they had a safety.  Baseball may be his first love, but any sport that involves a ball will do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2076458663503547883?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2076458663503547883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2076458663503547883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2076458663503547883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2076458663503547883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/02/safety.html' title='Safety'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SYdz7phEynI/AAAAAAAABRI/70nhfoYzpxg/s72-c/IMG_1245.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2312253617574578118</id><published>2009-01-29T10:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:34:44.499-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank Goodness for Small Towns</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of the negatives I've had since taking over the daycare is simply the fact that for most of the day, I am house-bound. Because although I could probably fit most of the kids…almost legally…in the suburban, the fact is I am not crazy enough, nor do I have the energy, to pack up 10 kids ages 1-4 and go anywhere. This can get especially hard when it comes to things like making it to the drug store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I prefer to use the drug store in town, because I don't want to have to drive 25 miles whenever I need my meds filled. (Which is more often than I would like) They close at 6 during week, and around 4 on Saturdays, I think, so if I need to pick one up during the week, I don't have much time depending on when the last of the kids leave. And, of course, I am the type that usually forgets to call in the refill until I am completely out. As was the case when I called in to refill my prescription that I take daily to try &amp;amp; prevent my migraines. That is probably the second most important prescription that I have…my Maxalt, what I take when I actually have a migraine would have to rank number one. The cholesterol meds…which I also ran out of yesterday…can wait until the 8th when Chris' new insurance kicks in, but the migraine meds I get with or without insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, I pulled up to the drug store with about 10 minutes to spare and reach for my purse to grab my wallet out of it….but it wasn't there. I forgot to put it away after I had ordered something online earlier. So, I went in anyway. And the gal grabbed my prescription (without me even having to give her my name….a combination of the small town and the small fortune my family spends in that store!). I said, "I went to grab my wallet, but it wasn't there. I'm completely out, though. Is there anyway I could have Chris drop off a check in the morning on his way to work?" She said sure, and handed me my meds. It's times like this I really like this small town! &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2312253617574578118?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2312253617574578118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2312253617574578118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2312253617574578118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2312253617574578118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/thank-goodness-for-small-towns.html' title='Thank Goodness for Small Towns'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2797573311157432703</id><published>2009-01-28T21:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:37:07.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Honey is Better</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, in complete contrast to my recent Alltel experience, I thought I'd share a couple of nice experiences I had when we went up to the Cities a couple of weeks ago. Because, for me at least, I really like to think that you can "catch more flies with honey", although I am often forced to get a little negative to get what I feel is right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We stayed at the Park Plaza Hotel…I got the rooms on Priceline for $37 each, so I admit I was already liking them. But as I was brining in our stuff to mine &amp;amp; the babies room, I snagged my shirt on a nail that was sticking out of the closet door jam. That did irritate me a little, but let's be honest, 96.7% of my clothes either come from a consignment store or the clearance racks, so I doubt I paid more than $10.00 for it, and I'd had it for a while, so it's not like I was out a lot. I was also a little irritated the next morning to find out they actually charged me .80 per local phone call, I didn't realize any hotels still did that. But I was mostly irritated because I did have my cell phone with me, I just didn't use it. Before we left the next morning, though, I did stop by to let them know about the nail. When I told him that it snagged my shirt, he looked a little worried, but I assured him it wasn't a big deal, I just didn't want it to happen to anyone else. He had already pulled up the room and said, "well there are $2.40 in extra charges to your room, I can at least take those off." What a nice surprise…I wasn't even going to mention the phone charges!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Then we stopped at Famous Dave's on the way home for a late lunch. I had ordered a cup of Wild Rice soup as an appetizer. But when they brought our meals out 10 minutes later, I knew he obviously forgot about the soup. Since I was not in immediate danger of withering away from starvation, and since the meal arrived so fast, I didn't say anything. I did check the bill, though, to make sure he didn't charge me for it, which he didn't, so all was good. But when he came back to take my payment, he was carrying a Styrofoam container. He apologized for forgetting the soup, and had brought me a free bowl of soup to take home. I realize he probably wanted to ensure a good tip after he realized he had forgotten it, and I did make sure to tip appropriately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Why more businesses can't do this sort of thing, too, before we consumer's have to get angry and make 10 phone calls to get things corrected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2797573311157432703?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2797573311157432703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2797573311157432703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2797573311157432703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2797573311157432703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/honey-is-better.html' title='Honey is Better'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5318880913561098078</id><published>2009-01-28T10:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:39:01.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Won!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;Okay, so I may have had to impersonate myself as my 13 year old son, and hack into the email address Chris had set up for the boys, but after way too many phone calls &amp;amp; emails to Alltel regarding the mysterious "Data Access" charges (or is it axcess…I find it strange that workers in their tech department don't know how to spell access, as they typed it wrong both times, so I don't think it is just a typo. Can we say Spell Check.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;Here is their response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;Hello Tyler,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;color:#444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you for sending the information we requested. Accept our apologies because this reply has taken more than usual to reach you. The volume of e-mails we have received in the last days made impossible for us to reach you sooner. We have received your e-mail regarding the Alltel mobile number 507320****. We understand that you would like to know detailed information about data airtime, the links you have accessed and a credit for the charges. We apologize, for any inconvenience you may have experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be happy to assist you in this matter. Those data airtime charges are related &lt;span style="color:yellow;"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; to the use of multimedia messages (pictures and video messages) and the use of the &lt;span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"&gt;axcess&lt;/span&gt; apps of the phone (this is use to view ring tones, ring backs, music, games etc), however; the internet access of your phone was blocked but not this applications or features, we have blocked the handset capacity to send multimedia messages and access the &lt;span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"&gt;axcess&lt;/span&gt; apps feature to avoid the airtime charges. On January the eight you receive a credit of $4.00 dollars for airtime charges, we have credited your account $10.00 dollars and the 32 bonus minutes for the inconvenience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;color:#444444;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In order for the changes to work please turn off and on your phone. Feel free to check this information on your prepaid account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making use of our services and please let us know if we can be of further assistance. Thanks for choosing Alltel U Prepaid as your wireless service provider. We appreciate your business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regards,&lt;br /&gt;Douglas A.&lt;br /&gt;Alltel U Prepaid Customer Support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:130%;color:#444444;"&gt;And, I realize we are not talking about a huge amount of money. It was the just the point (and that I want to win, of couse); I am not going to pay for a bunch of charges when they cannot even tell me exactly what the charges were for. In this response, they still even say the charges are USUALLY related to multimedia messages, which makes me think they seriously don't know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5318880913561098078?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5318880913561098078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5318880913561098078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5318880913561098078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5318880913561098078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-won.html' title='I Won!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6669526336155998789</id><published>2009-01-27T12:30:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T12:36:18.270-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What DID they do before TV?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Look, 2 posts in one day!  There is a very good reason for this... I re-found a DVD we've actually had for quite a while that is full of 33 minutes of toddler songs &amp;amp; sing-a-longs.  The kids have already watched the entire thing once, and are about half-way through the second time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had time to clean up the kitchen after lunch, and even sweep the floor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This DVD has the alphabet song on it, too...maybe I can count that as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school activities if I play it every day?!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I admit, that even when they aren't watching a special DVD, there is usually either Disney Channel or Nick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jr&lt;/span&gt; on one of the TVs, but they won't usually all sit and watch a whole episode of anything on those channels, so it is mostly ends up being  background noise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6669526336155998789?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6669526336155998789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6669526336155998789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6669526336155998789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6669526336155998789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-did-they-do-before-tv.html' title='What DID they do before TV?'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7601496744557003808</id><published>2009-01-27T12:21:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T12:30:44.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Fast</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SX9STeS7EuI/AAAAAAAABQ4/zTP2j48sTSU/s1600-h/IMG_1233.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Caleb was almost 1 1/2 when he decided he was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/04/hes-big-kid.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; too big for his high chair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;. Apparently, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; wants to be an over-achiever. Today, I went to put her in her high chair for lunch, she started screaming. I set her on the chair, I thought for just a minute to calm down, and she sat down and motioned for her plate. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296042171216822402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SX9SS4reAII/AAAAAAAABQo/kKwSYX9a8uQ/s320/IMG_1229.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296042176611988194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SX9STMxxsuI/AAAAAAAABQw/-UnmsGWuXp0/s320/IMG_1231.JPG" border="0" /&gt;She's only 16 1/2 months! She's moving a little too fast for me.  I'm getting too old &amp;amp; too tired to have any more babies on a permanent basis, so I would like her to remain a baby for as long as possible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Plus, I might be a little more excited about it, but I can't even get rid of the high chair since there are still a couple of daycare kids who will use it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7601496744557003808?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7601496744557003808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7601496744557003808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7601496744557003808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7601496744557003808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/too-fast.html' title='Too Fast'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SX9SS4reAII/AAAAAAAABQo/kKwSYX9a8uQ/s72-c/IMG_1229.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6851634748906466153</id><published>2009-01-26T09:35:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T09:39:44.948-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sloppy Joes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My boy understands what Sloppy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Joe's&lt;/span&gt; are all about:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295627252918098306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SX3Y7dkPmYI/AAAAAAAABQU/mimxMZ_6ivU/s320/IMG_1226.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6851634748906466153?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6851634748906466153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6851634748906466153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6851634748906466153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6851634748906466153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/sloppy-joes.html' title='Sloppy Joes'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SX3Y7dkPmYI/AAAAAAAABQU/mimxMZ_6ivU/s72-c/IMG_1226.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4630966475273950897</id><published>2009-01-24T12:12:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T12:12:19.600-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashion News?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;So, first, I feel I should admit that I did not watch the inauguration on Tuesday.  I really can't stand presidential speeches…or any political speeches if you want to know the truth.  I really don't care what you &lt;span style='text-decoration:underline'&gt;say&lt;/span&gt; you're going to do, I care more about what you actually manage to accomplish.  I realize it was a momentous event, the first black president &amp;amp; all, but I was still more than content to just watch the 2 minutes of it that made it on the nightly news.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;What really got me, though, was that on Wednesday, during the combined 30 minutes that I actually got to sit down, or stand in one place, long enough to even see much of the Today show, and other news shows, is that on at least 3 occasions, they were discussing what Michelle Obama was wearing.  And what their girls were wearing.  In fact, in the total amount of time I did watch TV on Wednesday, I believe they only actually discussed the actual inauguration once.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I realize that the media does almost the same thing with what Hollywood stars are wearing to big events, too, and although I really don't like that either, at least that is an industry that is really known for how they look.  But, am I really supposed to believe that what most Americans were wanting to know about the new president, is what clothing his wife &amp;amp; daughters are wearing?  I find that mighty sad.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4630966475273950897?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4630966475273950897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4630966475273950897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4630966475273950897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4630966475273950897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/fashion-news.html' title='Fashion News?!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5136853822740953032</id><published>2009-01-21T13:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T13:29:13.505-06:00</updated><title type='text'>One Step Forward, Two Steps Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I received an envelope from the MN Department of Health last week.  I got a little excited, could it be the birth certificates I've been waiting four months for?  Of course not.  It was the application for Baylee's birth certificate being sent back to me because the Court Administrators office forgot to sign it.  I called to see once I had it notarized it could be faxed back.  Since I had them on the phone, I also asked to see if Caleb's was notarized.  She informed me that there was a problem with the adoption paperwork that was with his, and so his had been sent back to the county.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;So long story short, it took them three months to the day to look at the applications for new birth certificates only to decide they both needed additional information.  I'm a little concerned that it might take them another three months to look at the corrected paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I did have an idea, though.  Because I have our estimated taxes done and we're supposed to be getting a very nice refund back, which I would like to have sooner rather than later.  So I decided to call the IRS.  (I only decided to call because they do not give out an email address for tax questions.)  I waited on hold for 15 minutes last night, only to be redirected to an area that could not take my call because their call volume was too high.  I'm guessing they cut it off at some point so that they don't end up sitting there for  2 hours after they close to answer questions.  So I tried back today.  It only took me 10 minutes to get through to the area I needed to talk to this time.  It took her another 15 minutes to actually give me an answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;She didn't seem 100% sure, but I did get her employee number, just in case.  According to her, I should be able to file my taxes on time using the social security numbers they were issued at birth, but I need to use the name that is on the cards, which would be their birth names.  She said that the worst thing that would happen is that if their biological mother tried to claim them as dependents, too, using the same social security numbers, then we'd each get a letter later in the year.  The person who had the legal right to claim them, meaning Chris &amp;amp; I, would just have to send in documentation that we did adopt them.  She would be the one who had to pay the money back with interest &amp;amp; penalties.    I don't think that would happen, anyway.  Do you even file a tax return if you have no job, no income, and no children?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5136853822740953032?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5136853822740953032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5136853822740953032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5136853822740953032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5136853822740953032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-step-forward-two-steps-back.html' title='One Step Forward, Two Steps Back'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1500594463048041746</id><published>2009-01-19T09:58:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T09:58:51.554-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Normal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;After last week, when the school kids did not even have one full day of school, it is VERY nice to be back to normal!  Last week, school was cancelled on Monday &amp;amp; Thursday and they were 2 hours late the other three days.  Yes, it was mighty frigid around here, but it really wasn't warming up any between 8 &amp;amp; 10, so I don't quite get why it was late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;The big kids aren't bad, but they just seem to throw off our routine.  Combine that with the two of them that like to think they are the ones taking care of the pre-schoolers and the ones who think their poor little sister is being picked on by so &amp;amp; so, and I was very ready for them to go back to school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;It will be somewhat short lived, though.  They are off again Friday this week and Monday next week.  I guess I better enjoy these four days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1500594463048041746?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1500594463048041746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1500594463048041746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1500594463048041746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1500594463048041746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-to-normal.html' title='Back to Normal'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2389098643136859471</id><published>2009-01-13T15:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T15:16:56.821-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Wal-Mart Cashier</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I am the customer you scolded on Saturday for going through the self checkout with 61 items.  Now, I do realize that the self checkouts at your store do have a tag-board sign taped to them stating they are now for 25 items or less…that is part of the reason I chose to go to the lane furthest away from you, but also because that lane has a longer place to put the merchandise on.  But, seriously, did you know that you are the only store I've ever been to, including many other Wal-Mart stores, that actually has the self checkout lanes labeled as 25 items or less?  It was bad enough when your store moved the baby formula to the 10 items or less lane, and now you changed the self checkout lanes?  I feel like you don't want people with large families…which usually means fuller shopping carts…to even shop there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Now, in my defense, all of the other lanes with cashiers had lines with people waiting, and all but one of the six self checkout lanes were empty.  Plus, I know that I can get my 61 items scanned through in about ½ the time that it takes most people to scan 25 items…I've been behind many of these people, and it is all I can do not to just walk up to them and say "please, just let me do it for you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I realize you were just doing your job, and that's fine.  But I promise you that if the situation arises again, I will do the same thing. (Thus the reason I did not actually tell you I was sorry, or that I would not do it again, I simply said, "no problem").   I just don't think it is good customer service for me to have to wait in line while 5 self checkout lanes remain empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2389098643136859471?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2389098643136859471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2389098643136859471' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2389098643136859471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2389098643136859471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/dear-wal-mart-cashier.html' title='Dear Wal-Mart Cashier'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2978432467279264113</id><published>2009-01-13T14:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T14:44:46.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do they make me be mean?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I mentioned that Tyler got a cell phone for Christmas – a pre-paid phone.  The phone he REALLY wanted was $300, and since I am still relatively sane, there was no way he was getting that phone.  So, his second choice was one he found online at Alltel.  I was a little hesitant, because I had dealt with them when I worked for the City and did not have a very good experience.  But, around here, they are the main carrier because they have the best reception (I do love the Verizon wireless "people" but even they have quite a few dead areas down here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;He loved his new phone, and started checking out the features as soon as it was out of the box.  I got it all set up so we could see his charges &amp;amp; calls on line.  As I started looking at it, though, we saw that there were several "Data Airtime" charges.  It appeared initially that they had happened as he was finding all of the songs that he could download for his ring tones, so we told him he better just stick with the one he picked or he wasn't going to have any minutes left.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Since he had already said he would mainly be using it for texting, we decided to go ahead and add the option of 300 texts a month for $5.  When I called to set that up, I also decided to ask exactly what the Data Airtime charges were for.  I got a pretty vague answer about it having something to do with web access from his phone from a person who's first language was certainly not English, so I just let it go, figuring I'd call again another time and hopefully get somebody who spoke my language a little bit better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I continued to check his account online, and came across more charges for Data Airtime, and this time there were nine of them all at the exact same time, totaling over $4.50.  So I called again, and discovered that their call center must be located in another country, because this person also had a pretty thick accent.  But I proceeded to ask her to tell me about these charges.  She just kept repeating that it was for Web Access and we were charged .15 per minute for web access.  But when I continued to question her about how we could possibly be charged for that nine time in the same minute, her answers again became very vague.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I asked her to tell me exactly what sites were visited during that minute, but she couldn't tell me that, and just kept repeating that it was .15 per minute and he must have kept going on and off to different links.  I asked her if there was somebody else I could contact to find out what sites were accessed, she said no.  Finally, I asked her to turn off the web access for that phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I checked the phone a day later, only to find yet another data airtime card, so I was forced to call again.  The first time I called, I think I was pretty nice.  The second time, I started out fairly nice, although, I admit by the end I was getting slightly irritated.  I really do usually try to remember that the person answering the phone is just that, the person answering the phone; they really have no say in what or how things are processed.  But, the more often I have to contact a company, the less friendly I get.  So by the third phone call, I was not all that pleasant.  This person did at least agree with me that the nine charges at the same time were obviously erroneous (his word, not mine) so he did credit me back $4.  He did also confirm for me that the web access had been turned off.  But he could not explain then what the data airtime charges were for.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I'm quite certain based on the times the charged hit the account that they are charging him when he turns on the phone if he has a text message waiting for him, because most of them have been at 3:07, which would be when he turns it on after school to see if I texted him changed with who is supposed to be coming to daycare after school.  But, I still want them to admit that he is being charged for basically turning on his phone.  No, the .15 per day is not going to break us, but by now, it's the principal of the matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;So, I decided to turn to emails.  At least then, every time I email, I can just add to what I've already said instead of having to repeat myself again.  My first response from their email customer service?  Sorry, we can't help you because that number is listed to another person .  Huh?  Who do you think set up that account?  Me.  Heck, Tyler doesn't even remember the log in information!  And, they didn't seem to care whose name was on the account when they accepted a credit card for payment that had my name on it.  But now, when I'm asking for an explanation &amp;amp; a refund, they can only speak with my 13 year old son???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I've emailed twice since them, the last time was earlier today.  I just don't get why they make me be a bitch to them in order for them to resolve my issue.  Although, after I've been trying to resolve an issue for a long time, it sometimes feels good to let off a little steam in their direction, but really, I'd much prefer to simply resolve it the first time I contact them in a friendly manner.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2978432467279264113?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2978432467279264113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2978432467279264113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2978432467279264113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2978432467279264113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-do-they-make-me-be-mean.html' title='Why do they make me be mean?'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5940088646104472072</id><published>2009-01-05T16:43:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T16:48:44.901-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Update to Texting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After I spent all of that time learning to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/texting.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;text Tyler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;, he didn't even get the texts!  AND they did forget one of the kids.  Luckily, the elementary principal only lives a few blocks away, so she brought him here.  The funniest part is that his sister was in the truck...and nobody thought to ask why her brother wasn't there, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5940088646104472072?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5940088646104472072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5940088646104472072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5940088646104472072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5940088646104472072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/update-to-texting.html' title='Update to Texting'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7947812712377895856</id><published>2009-01-05T14:42:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T16:43:07.005-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirteen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was Tyler's birthday on Thursday. He is my New Year's baby, but he was not even close to being the first baby of the new year. And to be honest, I would have much rather had the last baby of the year, given that he was induced and all, but, I should probably let that go, since it happened 13 years ago and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just can't believe he is 13 already!! I mean, he certainly acts like a teenager...but I'm just not old enough to have a teenager.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He finally rolled out of bed around 11 and was ready to open his gifts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287934398298650914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKEUY4o-SI/AAAAAAAABLQ/ywGkvq5Gd6k/s320/IMG_1135.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He got a MN Twins &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;titanium&lt;/span&gt; necklace (which I didn't get a good picture of), a Packer's collectible figurine&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287934405492101522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKEUzrsUZI/AAAAAAAABLY/Tf8LKBGkcJI/s320/IMG_1136.JPG" border="0" /&gt;which Caleb claimed as his &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287935567529186466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKFYcm7FKI/AAAAAAAABMY/TUhHhXcROcU/s320/IMG_1150.JPG" border="0" /&gt;and a glass Dale Jr &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nascar&lt;/span&gt; car,&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287934427596391250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKEWGBxA1I/AAAAAAAABLo/Oo4MeCUg-5I/s320/IMG_1138.JPG" border="0" /&gt; but his favorite by far were the Packer's tennis shoes. They were a little big, since he has small, skinny, size 5 or 5 1/2 half feet, but the smallest size the shoes came in was a 6 1/2. He didn't mind, though. He wore them all weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287934438552776130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKEWu1-LcI/AAAAAAAABLw/EPMjsTH3e6c/s320/IMG_1139.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287935558253160466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKFX6DWKBI/AAAAAAAABMM/x41oecMQZuE/s320/IMG_1149.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The nice thing about him getting older, though, is that he picked Green Mill for his birthday meal instead of Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Joes&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We hung out and played some games at home for a good share of the evening. And then it was cake time. Tyler had requested a Dairy Queen cake, and lucky for him I made it to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DQ&lt;/span&gt; on New Years Eve at 7:47...because they closed at 8 and were closed on the first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First Tyler blew out his candles. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287938676310690914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKINZuMTGI/AAAAAAAABMw/63yIN5o4slg/s320/IMG_1154.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Then Caleb had to blow out candles,&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287938708359461490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKIPRHNunI/AAAAAAAABNI/NjDQcZg6pZs/s320/IMG_1157.JPG" border="0" /&gt; as did Amata, of course. (Yes, it's blurry, it's hard to get that girl to be still for 1/2 a second to get a good picture.)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287938716489651378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKIPvZmlLI/AAAAAAAABNQ/sIUxdsxeI6Q/s320/IMG_1158.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Once the candles were blown out for the third time, we finally got to enjoy some.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287941072502467618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKKY4O1LCI/AAAAAAAABOQ/qByS00_kDL8/s320/IMG_1166.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287941055686079602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKKX5lfdHI/AAAAAAAABOA/eZydqvHwvQs/s320/IMG_1164.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287940479584738738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKJ2XcOnbI/AAAAAAAABN4/rywxEX_NML8/s320/IMG_1163.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287940470256891682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKJ10sS9yI/AAAAAAAABNw/qMvg3wBp680/s320/IMG_1162.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287940443573883874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKJ0RSkk-I/AAAAAAAABNg/oBh2aTh4lCk/s320/IMG_1160.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7947812712377895856?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7947812712377895856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7947812712377895856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7947812712377895856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7947812712377895856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/thirteen.html' title='Thirteen'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SWKEUY4o-SI/AAAAAAAABLQ/ywGkvq5Gd6k/s72-c/IMG_1135.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1429551029316749725</id><published>2009-01-05T14:36:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T14:41:34.387-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Texting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just don't get it.  Tyler got a cell phone for Christmas, but he doesn't actually like to talk on it, he just wants to text.  So today, I needed to remind him who needed to come to daycare after school, and since he can't have the phone on during the school day, and he hasn't even set up the voicemail on it yet, I was forced to text him that information.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I just spent the last 15 minutes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; him, "don't forget &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;brian&lt;/span&gt; and kyle.  no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;halle&lt;/span&gt;.  hope and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;jacob&lt;/span&gt; too.  and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;karli&lt;/span&gt;".  Actually I had to send him 2 texts, because I forgot about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Karli&lt;/span&gt;.  How is this quicker or easier than just calling and actually speaking to people???  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now, I do realize that there were probably &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;abbreviations&lt;/span&gt; that I could have used, but I didn't know where to find the symbols, nor do I have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; dictionary.  And, sure, it took longer since it was my first time....but still, I really don't think that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt; is all that wonderful!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1429551029316749725?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1429551029316749725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1429551029316749725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1429551029316749725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1429551029316749725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2009/01/texting.html' title='Texting'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7810689357672666369</id><published>2008-12-30T17:20:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T17:20:44.678-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Mean</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Well it is officially the second week of Christmas vacation around here, which means it is the second week now that "big kids" have been in daycare.  I am very much looking forward to next week when school resumes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Today, most of the older kids asked to go outside.  About 10 minutes later, another boy came upstairs and asked if he could go outside.  I said, "Sure", and he walked away, but then came back 2 minutes later.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;He said, "I can't find any boots to wear."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I asked if he brought his, he said no.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;So I said, "Well, you can't go outside without boots, snow pants, a coat, hat &amp;amp; gloves."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt; He responded by saying that he had planned to use Cameron's, but one of the other kids who also didn't bring any boots was already wearing Cameron's.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I said, "That's too bad, you'll have to wait until he comes back in."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;He said, "Well, he'll probably stay out there the whole time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I said, "He might."   At which point, I think he finally started to realize that I really didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;My question today is this:  How does it become my problem when the kids don't bring their boots &amp;amp; snow pants?  They all know the rules, they are the exact same rules that the school has for playing outside.  I'm pretty sure the school does not have dozens of boots &amp;amp; snow pants on hand to loan out to the kids who don't bring those items to school.  So why do the kids think that I should have a bunch of extras?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;And besides, this is winter…in Minnesota.  And even if you haven't lived her all your life, there is snow on the ground right now, and it has been there for weeks.  Why would you not bring snow pants &amp;amp; boots to daycare if you thought you might want to play outside at some point??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Oh well, I'm just a big meanie anyway.  When they asked to go outside for the third time…after I had gone into the porch to find all of their coats, hats &amp;amp; snow pants thrown on the floor, I said that nobody was going out for the rest of the day, because I have enough to do around here without having to go behind them picking up their stuff!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7810689357672666369?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7810689357672666369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7810689357672666369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7810689357672666369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7810689357672666369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/snow-mean.html' title='Snow Mean'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5878531769838168137</id><published>2008-12-29T13:40:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T14:09:07.498-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa was here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It took a little while for all of us to wake up realize that Santa had been here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300084391656418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkobI2Bu-I/AAAAAAAABJY/tyBSXR5jJ_8/s320/IMG_1087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300074306436418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkoajRhfUI/AAAAAAAABJQ/nKK2AKiIedE/s320/IMG_1086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; But once the kids got started...they were all into it.  It was even more fun this year, since all 5 of them were very interested in the actual unwrapping process, as well as with the toys they were receiving.  I had it on very good authority that Baylee would love her presents...she played with them almost the whole time we were in Fleet Farm.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300107236518882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkocd8qq-I/AAAAAAAABJw/pzJri2sh0rI/s320/IMG_1109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300918700844354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpLs41pUI/AAAAAAAABKY/q1M6UFpy_go/s320/IMG_1120.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285301577547249266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpyDSD9nI/AAAAAAAABKw/5roAWEl6-No/s320/IMG_1123.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Caleb's favorite gifts were probably a tie between his new guitar &amp;amp; microphone &amp;amp; the Sing Along &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Spiderman&lt;/span&gt;.  Although, for some reason, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Spidey&lt;/span&gt; brought out the aggressive side of him.  Every time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spiderman&lt;/span&gt; started swinging, Caleb would punch him &amp;amp; tackle him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpxv-U51I/AAAAAAAABKo/x3sQUBs--wc/s1600-h/IMG_1124.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285301572364199762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpxv-U51I/AAAAAAAABKo/x3sQUBs--wc/s320/IMG_1124.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300090338367010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkobe_1ViI/AAAAAAAABJg/xauyhep9AV0/s320/IMG_1101.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Amata's favorites were her Barbie guitar &amp;amp; her new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Leapster&lt;/span&gt; game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300873897005378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpJF-xUUI/AAAAAAAABJ4/Y_YP3q7GF3g/s320/IMG_1103.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpwzvr05I/AAAAAAAABKg/l_tbt3XiuJo/s1600-h/IMG_1127.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285301556196660114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpwzvr05I/AAAAAAAABKg/l_tbt3XiuJo/s320/IMG_1127.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300895540642258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpKWnBAdI/AAAAAAAABKI/LS6IZV-ikkU/s320/IMG_1113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Cameron's big gift from Santa was an electric scooter.  He liked it, but with it being winter in Minnesota, he won't have much riding time for a while.  His second favorite gift was probably the heat/massaging chair pad that he wanted very badly for whatever reason.  I guess there are a lot of stresses for 10 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300097315871842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkob4_ZnGI/AAAAAAAABJo/BbBi_FNEJpA/s320/IMG_1104.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300899896961602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpKm1pKkI/AAAAAAAABKQ/s8aQae7bXyc/s320/IMG_1114.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; Tyler favorite gift by far was his cell phone, even though it is prepaid, so we don't have to worry about him running up a huge bill.  Of course, when I told him to call his aunt &amp;amp; let her know what time we'd be there, he said, "But I don't like to talk."  I guess he'll be mainly using his phone for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;texting&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285300877192568674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkpJSQfn2I/AAAAAAAABKA/Du3PvAZrrKU/s320/IMG_1106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;div&gt;All in all, I think everybody was pretty happy with their gifts!  And we still have 2 more Christmases to go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5878531769838168137?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5878531769838168137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5878531769838168137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5878531769838168137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5878531769838168137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/santa-was-here.html' title='Santa was here!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVkobI2Bu-I/AAAAAAAABJY/tyBSXR5jJ_8/s72-c/IMG_1087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1403856524217635841</id><published>2008-12-25T21:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T21:28:40.517-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Laxatives</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Every year for Christmas, we get at least a couple of games to play, and this year was no different.  One of the games was Guesstures, which I had gotten for Cameron because he loves charades.  So, while 2 of the three babies were down for a nap, we decided to play a round.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Teams were Cameron &amp;amp; Chris against Tyler, Amata &amp;amp; I.  Things were going pretty well, especially since Tyler &amp;amp; I were winning.  It was my turn to act out a word, and the word that came up on the game was Laxatives.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I just started laughing &amp;amp; saying there is no way Tyler even knows what this word is, because, honestly, I don't know of many almost 13 year olds who have ever used laxatives, or at least known they were using one &amp;amp; why.  But I was a good sport, so I tried.  For fear of sharing too much information, I won't go into detail about how I acted it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;Imagine my surprise when Tyler did guess that the word was laxatives, and he got it within about 5 seconds!  I still couldn't stop laughing and I said, "How do you even know what that is?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;His response?  TV!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1403856524217635841?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1403856524217635841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1403856524217635841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1403856524217635841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1403856524217635841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/laxatives.html' title='Laxatives'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1775294752504459207</id><published>2008-12-24T15:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T16:10:21.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Times on Christmas Eve…not</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Would you like to guess what I'll be doing tonight…on Christmas Eve? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It has something to do with this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283474820964179890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVKsW0tKX7I/AAAAAAAABJI/HPbtlK2rvas/s320/IMG_1085.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It may look like a small innocent crayon, but it is evil. EVIL I tell you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll give you a hint. This morning, I decided to do some laundry, so that I won't have as much to do this weekend. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Did you guess? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yep, I will be spending the rest of the day trying to get purple color crayon out of my whites. Oh, don't worry, I have googled how to remove crayon stains from laundry, and there appear to be several different ways. However, each of the ideas has to do with applying removers and such from each piece of laundry, individually. Obviously, whoever came up with these ideas does not realize how many articles of clothing can be in a load of laundry, when you have 5 children and an extra large capacity front load washing machine!! Oh, and they also warn that it may take several washes before it comes completely out...because I just don't have enough loads of laundry to do! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Right now I am re-washing the entire load in hot water, hoping that might lighten the stain enough in most of the clothes to not be as noticeable. (Did I mention a pair of Chris' new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Schwan's&lt;/span&gt; pants were in there, too?) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But one thing is for sure…Daycare or no daycare, all crayons are currently banned from my house!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1775294752504459207?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1775294752504459207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1775294752504459207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1775294752504459207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1775294752504459207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-times-on-christmas-evenot.html' title='Happy Times on Christmas Eve…not'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SVKsW0tKX7I/AAAAAAAABJI/HPbtlK2rvas/s72-c/IMG_1085.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8069540295296680210</id><published>2008-12-23T09:57:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T10:12:01.538-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chuck E Cheese</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chuck E Cheese has had a commercial on lately that I find very disturbing.  It is emphasizing their Kid Check policy, where everybody has their hand stamped with a number &amp;amp; the kids can only leave with an adult with the same number stamped on their hand.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The commercial shows a mom taking her kids there, and she is just sitting back relaxing, enjoying her dinner while her kids are off somewhere else playing games.  I have a couple of issues with this.  First of all, I've been to Chuck E Cheese, many, many times.  The commercial does some false advertising trying to show that it is relaxing there.  Hundred's of kids running round screaming is not relaxing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But my bigger issue with this commercial is that some parents might actually buy the message that it is completely safe to just let your children run around there &amp;amp; play the games unsupervised.  Aside from the whole injury/bully things that can happen, can we say child &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;predators&lt;/span&gt;???  While I certainly hope this would never happen, just think of the message this sends to child predators.  So what if they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;supposedly&lt;/span&gt; cannot leave with a child since their number doesn't match...many of them are pretty crafty &amp;amp; could probably find semi private areas within the building.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just can't believe nobody has caught this.  It really bothers me every single time this commercial comes on!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8069540295296680210?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8069540295296680210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8069540295296680210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8069540295296680210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8069540295296680210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/chuck-e-cheese.html' title='Chuck E Cheese'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2472218026511695572</id><published>2008-12-19T12:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T12:51:39.544-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Government</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here is an email exchange I recently had with the State of MN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;INITIAL EMAIL TO THE MN DEPT OF HEALTH:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We finalized the adoptions of our youngest two children in September, but we still have not received their new birth certificates.  The checks have yet to be cashed, also.  I was just informed by the social security office that I cannot get new social security numbers issued to them without a birth certificate.  Is there some way to find out where my applications are and when the birth certificates might be issued?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are for Caleb Alexander *** &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rayne&lt;/span&gt; ***.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank You,&lt;br /&gt;Stacie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THEIR RESPONSE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ms. ***,&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your inquiry. We received your paperwork on Oct. 6 and we’re currently reviewing submissions received on Sept. 16. We should be reviewing your submission within the next 2-4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John A. ***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MINNESOTA DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH&lt;br /&gt;Office of the State Registrar&lt;br /&gt;P.O. Box 64882&lt;br /&gt;St. Paul, MN 55164-0882&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MY REPLY:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you for your quick response.  Is there any way to expedite those?  I was told by the Social Security Office that I cannot get new Social Security numbers for them without the birth certificates, and I cannot file my taxes without the Social Security numbers.  If I remember correctly from when my daughter was adopted, it took about 3-4 weeks to get the new Social Security card once I applied for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks again for your help!&lt;br /&gt;Stacie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THEIR RESPONSE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;To expedite your request, we require a fee of $20. If you mail us a check, we can get started as soon we receive the check. If you call with a credit card number, we can get started sooner, but we would also require an additional $6 credit card processing fee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John A. ***&lt;br /&gt;MINNESOTA DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH&lt;br /&gt;Office of the State Registrar&lt;br /&gt;P.O. Box 64882&lt;br /&gt;St. Paul, MN 55164-0882&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;TRANSLATION:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; want us to do our job in a relatively timely manner, you will need to pay us another $26 for each child...in addition to the $56 each that you already paid for the birth certificates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No wonder government employees have such a bad rap!  I really don't get why it takes so long.  Considering the fact that although I signed the form &amp;amp; wrote the check, it was the Court Administrator that actually completed &amp;amp; mailed in the forms.  That works for the same judge who granted the adoption, so really, what is it they have to check?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have to say, the Social Security Admin also makes me shake my head.  (Please note, I am not complaining about the employees at the office in my area, as they have always been extremely nice &amp;amp; helpful.  When I got Amata's new number, I was in &amp;amp; out of that office in less than 5 minutes!)  But, according to them, if I just wanted to change their names on their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;existing&lt;/span&gt; SSA accounts, the certified court documents I already have would be just fine.  (Their biological mother has their current numbers...the same biological mother who has a conviction for check forgery charges.  She wouldn't think twice about trying to steal their identities.  Thus the reason I want new numbers.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Also, since their biological mother applied for their current &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;SSN's&lt;/span&gt; from the hospital, a birth certificate was not required then.  But for me to get new numbers for my adopted children, I have to have the physical birth certificates.  UGH!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I refuse to pay another $52 just to get their Birth Certificates a week faster.  I guess I'll just have to live with possibly not being able to file my taxes on Feb 1st.  (With so many kids and a daycare in our home, we always get a refund, which I like to get as soon as possible.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2472218026511695572?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2472218026511695572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2472218026511695572' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2472218026511695572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2472218026511695572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/government.html' title='Government'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6026852429341416075</id><published>2008-12-18T08:31:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T08:39:00.728-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Ready for Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUpgLd9mH_I/AAAAAAAAA-g/uDaX0cxDAL4/s1600-h/IMG_1083.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No, I don’t mean decorating, baking &amp;amp; wrapping gifts for Christmas, although I have done two out of those three things. I’m talking about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decluttering&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281139259363213042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUpgLPu2vvI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/skF2IR59Buk/s320/IMG_1082.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I decided to be a little more pro-active this year. Instead of waiting until several months after Christmas, when I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t stand having toys covering every square inch of the house, and then weeding through all of the toys, deciding which ones needed to go, I spent last weekend going through them, and managed to get rid of 2 totes &amp;amp; two large boxes full of toys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I feel so much better now! It’s amazing how you can get rid of half of the toys, and not one of the kids has even noticed yet. I think they’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; had more fun than before, because they’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; found a bunch of toys they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t even know we had!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And before you feel too sorry for my kids, having such a mean mom who steals their toys, please remember that there are 5 of them. Which means we barely fit into this house as it is, let alone have enough room left to just add to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;existing&lt;/span&gt; toys. We have to create space, and it is either get rid of some of their toys, or get rid of some of my stuff, and that wasn't going to happen!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6026852429341416075?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6026852429341416075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6026852429341416075' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6026852429341416075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6026852429341416075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/getting-ready-for-christmas.html' title='Getting Ready for Christmas'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUpgLPu2vvI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/skF2IR59Buk/s72-c/IMG_1082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3984826758687337177</id><published>2008-12-13T22:30:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T19:47:03.680-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture Time Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We actually had these pictures done a little over a month ago, but I haven't had a chance to do anything with them until now.  As it was it took us three trips to get them all done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The first time, we were able to get individual pictures of 4 of the kids done...not bad.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; decided she was not in the mood for photos that day.  For the most part they turned out nice, they just don't seem to get very creative with Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499445795138018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMxiJ9qeI/AAAAAAAAA9w/2Wni9lsEUYw/s320/Tyler+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499453368545682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMx-XmsZI/AAAAAAAAA94/xg7ghyeMjV0/s320/Tyler+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499442239971186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMxU6WH3I/AAAAAAAAA9g/Zu2t8VBpMz4/s320/Cam+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499443482725378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMxZipDAI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/YndJCs_xBRI/s320/Cameron+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As always, Amata was very shy in front of the camera...not!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279498788701140850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMLSSi93I/AAAAAAAAA8Q/YQ2WRnQxcXk/s320/Amata+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279498791669664594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMLdWTC1I/AAAAAAAAA8Y/Ktl_GVP9sZA/s320/Amata+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279498781367418274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMK2-DPaI/AAAAAAAAA8I/qEfOGkpJDTU/s320/Amata+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We saw some progress from Caleb.  He wasn't 100% on board with it all, but he did at least stay where we put him this time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499213171834594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMj_kPvuI/AAAAAAAAA9A/UWZcsEpduN8/s320/Caleb+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499213613075538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMkBNcjFI/AAAAAAAAA9I/lJQrPLkIbbU/s320/Caleb+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Are you done yet?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499218850226994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMkUuFIzI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/7Xs9lLSKR6w/s320/Caleb+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Originally, I had made the second appointment hoping to get the whole family, but we decided to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Baylee's&lt;/span&gt; individual appointment done first.  She was having a good time at first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279498803118788210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMMH_-znI/AAAAAAAAA8g/PksLQ_2T1Gk/s320/Baylee+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279498806794206626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMMVsRPaI/AAAAAAAAA8o/iOhkTvBW3qw/s320/Baylee+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499201342991250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMjTgB65I/AAAAAAAAA84/JpVlSuP-HSY/s320/Baylee+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499202388400354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMjXZRmOI/AAAAAAAAA8w/VJo_12H4S6A/s320/Baylee+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;But then, right after I changed her clothes, she fell down and bonked her head.  She decided she was done after that.  The family picture is not my favorite, but with 3 children between the ages of 1 &amp;amp; 3, we have to take what we can get!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499446828138514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMxmAQABI/AAAAAAAAA9o/KoefD3nMc44/s320/Fam+Cropped.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We didn't  bother to even try to get any pictures of the 5 kids after that!  So I made one last appointment, and I'm glad I did.  I really like the pictures we got!  And, no, I did not photo shop these...that is an actual smile you see on Caleb's face!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499589961040338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 225px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSM57NywdI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/3Z5CebVpo4I/s320/Kids+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499582655223346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSM5f_81jI/AAAAAAAAA-I/WnWxAeT9WfU/s320/Kids+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit the boys are a little bit too tall compared to the babies in this one, but I really like Caleb &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; in it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279499581695277426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSM5cbFOXI/AAAAAAAAA-A/DHQPDOEFHcU/s320/Kids+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3984826758687337177?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3984826758687337177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3984826758687337177' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3984826758687337177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3984826758687337177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/picture-time-again.html' title='Picture Time Again'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUSMxiJ9qeI/AAAAAAAAA9w/2Wni9lsEUYw/s72-c/Tyler+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7078893850588796887</id><published>2008-12-10T12:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:39:19.631-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It looks like we will be having a white Christmas this year.  I have no clue how much snow we actually got yesterday, but it was a lot.  School started out 2 hours late, but by 8 am, it was cancelled for the day.  The school kids seemed to be a tad bit more excited about that than I was!  It didn't take them long to feel the need to go outside.  I don't mind them going out to play, but it is sure a lot of work getting them ready!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278227003443413442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAHfpAegcI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Zx7mhaRCvpg/s320/IMG_1053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Once they were out, though, they had a blast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278227022048179282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAHguUMtFI/AAAAAAAAA6o/0QInhGJGIfI/s320/IMG_1057.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278228976834387330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAJSgdjHYI/AAAAAAAAA7g/hphixe7iWpg/s320/IMG_1064.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278227015523015906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAHgWAenOI/AAAAAAAAA6g/D9mUcDNKiqY/s320/IMG_1056.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278227024635515666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAHg39EUxI/AAAAAAAAA6w/yFWX5vQ5vv4/s320/IMG_1058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I do have some requirements, though.  You must have a hat, mittens, boots, snow pants &amp;amp; coat.  And you must be over the age of 3 (or the age of 5 if Tyler is not out there, too).  So, the babies had to watch the action from inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278228383330574850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAIv9fNogI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/alZqoOIYr8Y/s320/IMG_1063.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278228997798663666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAJTuj0lfI/AAAAAAAAA74/WVwZTlh_PCo/s320/IMG_1067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There is one very good thing about school being cancelled.... Tyler was willing to shovel the snow left by the snow plow at the bottom of the driveway for a mere $10.00.  Let me tell you, it was totally worth every penny!  Do you know how heavy that snow can be?  (Okay, so maybe I don't know exactly how heavy it was, since I don't remember the last time I've had to shovel a driveway, but it sure looked heavy by the way he was shoveling and how long it took him!)  All I had to do was shovel the sidewalk that had pretty light, fluffy snow and my back is hurting today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278228993247397458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAJTdmtxlI/AAAAAAAAA7w/BesJv22IfFE/s320/IMG_1066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278229003188000930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAJUCovWKI/AAAAAAAAA8A/tsEm39JaWRU/s320/IMG_1068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278228355340824642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAIuVN78EI/AAAAAAAAA64/3WnZQV02q5g/s320/IMG_1059.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7078893850588796887?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7078893850588796887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7078893850588796887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7078893850588796887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7078893850588796887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SUAHfpAegcI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/Zx7mhaRCvpg/s72-c/IMG_1053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2174281248404483528</id><published>2008-12-08T13:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T13:00:02.959-06:00</updated><title type='text'>17 days?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=''&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I am usually one of those irritating people who is completely done with their Christmas shopping BEFORE Black Friday.  I would maybe have a couple of stocking stuffers to get, or be waiting for some things to arrive in the mail, but basically done, and on a really good year, I would even have it all wrapped.  Not only that, but I would also usually have all birthday gifts through April done, as well.  (And if you know my family, that is no small feat… there are 5 birthday's in January alone!)  By now, my Christmas letter would have been done, addressed, &amp;amp; mailed, along with pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;This year…not so much.  I do have the paper purchased to print my letter on, but the letter itself isn't even started.  The annual family picture in front of the tree??  Nope, not done.  And as for the gifts?  HELP!  I usually have a very organized spreadsheet, showing what I am giving everybody, if it is purchased yet, if it has arrived yet, and even if it is wrapped.  And I would, of course, have it all in separate boxes depending on where it had to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;At this point, nothing is done.  I have some toys out in the shed, but they are pretty much all for the little kids, and I really have no idea who's getting what.  I thought I had Cameron's big gift done…the Peanut doll from Jeff Dunham.  Until I started thinking it should have arrived by now.  So I went to my email to check the confirmation for a shipping date.  No confirmation.  So then I went to check the credit card statement to see when it was charged… no charge.  I clearly remember going to the website, ordering it, and getting out my credit card, but since they are now sold out, that doesn't do me much good.  There are some on Ebay, but  they are going for over three times as much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;I at least know what we're getting for Tyler's main gift, but we were waiting to see what kind of discount we'll get through Chris' new job.   And poor Baylee.  Since she is only a year, I haven't really paid much attention on what to get her, and so I'm not so sure that I have anything for her yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;What have I been doing with all of my time?  Besides making breakfast &amp;amp; doing the dishes, and changing diapers and making lunch &amp;amp; doing the dishes &amp;amp; changing diapers, and making Tyler or Cameron make dinner for us &amp;amp; doing the dishes &amp;amp; changing diapers.  Oh, and I suppose you could throw laundry in there, somewhere too.  I have been getting things washed; it's that whole putting it away part that been tough to get done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style='font-size:12pt'&gt;So, maybe someday you'll get our Christmas card.  Or maybe it'll be a Happy New Year's card instead??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2174281248404483528?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2174281248404483528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2174281248404483528' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2174281248404483528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2174281248404483528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/17-days.html' title='17 days?!?!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8775550503521232377</id><published>2008-12-08T12:59:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T17:33:26.944-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;Well, a couple of months ago, I announced that Chris &amp;amp; I both changed jobs. Unfortunately, his job change didn't go so well. Long story short, the company he had been working for did not treat their managers very well, and their communication just plain sucks. Not to mention the fact that they didn't even pay him what they had offered him for the first 30 days. (They told them that part the day before his first shift…after I had quit my job)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;But, it just so happens that a Schwan's truck usually does "truck sales" out of the parking lot of that company on Fridays. And so one Friday several weeks ago, Chris was talking to the driver and she was saying how much she liked working for Schwan's and that he should apply there. So he did. And today is his first day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;To be fair, they do also pay a training wage for the first 12 weeks while he is being trained. But, not only is that training wage more than what he was making, they were also kind enough to tell him that at his very first interview. So there was no surprise the day before he started. And, once he's trained in &amp;amp; learns his route and such, there will probably weeks that he only has to work 4 days. If he makes his quota within 4 days, he's done for the week. If not, then he has to work the "truck sale" on Friday. And they did already warn him that for the first year, he'll probably end up working quite a few of those truck sales. But on average, after the first year, most of the driver's have no problem making their quota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;It did boost his ego a little that the other company he was with did realize what an asset he could be. They did try to counter offer with a substantial raise, but it was kind of too little, too late. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8775550503521232377?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8775550503521232377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8775550503521232377' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8775550503521232377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8775550503521232377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/more-changes.html' title='More Changes'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-494632980975190616</id><published>2008-12-02T13:17:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T13:26:46.408-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Will She Ever Learn?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometime last night, Amata ended up on the floor next to our bed. (She has an extra pillow &amp;amp; blanket there, as this happens a lot. She peeked around the corner when she got up, I was talking to one of the daycare parents, and then she went back into the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When I got up there, her eye was pretty red and she said it hurt. Coincidentally, my deodorant appeared to have been tampered with. This is not the first time she has gotten into my deodorant. The first time, she actually took a bite out of it. Chris had to call poison control that time. Luckily, it's not toxic, it just burns a little going down. (Side note, that incident did make Amata the winner of the first…and only time we've ever had to call poison control… in the almost 13 years that we've been parents.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, first we tried a shower to try and rinse her eye out, but it didn't work well. I couldn't get her to leave her eye open. Which meant we had to try to wash her eye out with a cup over the kitchen sink. Yes, I probably could have taken her to the doctor and had them do it, but that wasn't all that much fun when I took her there a year or so ago after she put diaper rash ointment in her eye. They made me hold her down there, too, while they washed it out. (Side note, Amata is also the only child who's eye we've ever had to wash out, too, in almost 13 years…and she's had it done twice!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I guess everybody has to have a talent. I just wish hers was something a little less painful, because we are the ones who have to listen to her cry after the fact. (Sorry, sympathy is pretty hard to come by for her since she has done it so many times!!)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-494632980975190616?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/494632980975190616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=494632980975190616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/494632980975190616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/494632980975190616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/12/will-she-ever-learn.html' title='Will She Ever Learn?'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-668048198674468117</id><published>2008-11-28T08:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T08:42:58.895-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone in 60 Seconds</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, it might not have been exactly 60 seconds, but it didn't take much longer than that to completely blow my Christmas budget at WalMart. I do not always go out on Black Friday, but this year they had stuff I wanted. Like Jeeps in pink &amp;amp; blue for only $88 each…they normally sell for at least $200. And, since we had the best WalMart employees ever by the Jeeps, I was able to get one of each color….loaded into my cars by them, at 2 minutes &lt;strong&gt;before &lt;/strong&gt;5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, my years of experience shopping with multiple children has trained me well enough to push/pull &lt;strong&gt;two&lt;/strong&gt; carts through WalMart on Black Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, alas, there is always something. I realized on my way home that I did make a HUGE blunder. They had Leapster's on sale for only $30, so I picked one up for Amata. But, I did not pick one up for Caleb – UGGH! I know better. Really I do, Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron were also close in age. I think I'm going to blame the early morning for that blunder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-668048198674468117?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/668048198674468117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=668048198674468117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/668048198674468117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/668048198674468117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/gone-in-60-seconds.html' title='Gone in 60 Seconds'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4700723095840067540</id><published>2008-11-22T21:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T21:01:33.400-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Two Minutes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For some reason, even though my older boys are 10 &amp;amp; 12, for some reason they never answer the phone or the door. Unless, of course, they've got something planned. For example, on Friday shortly after school, the phone rang. It was literally about 2 inches away from Cameron, but he of course, was waiting for me to pick it up. I did, looked at the caller id and said, "It's for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He answered and talked to his friend for about 30 seconds, hung up, and went into the living room. Shortly after 5, the phone rang again, but this time, even though it was 25 feet away from Cameron, he came running into the kitchen to answer it. Two seconds later he asks, "Mom, can I sleep over at Sid's?" Like that wasn't planned!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So today, the boys were downstairs with the babies. So I decided to take the opportunity to go to the bathroom all by myself. And since I didn't have 10 kids running around the house trying to break something, or someone, I thought that maybe I would even take my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Silly me. I no sooner got into the bathroom when the doorbell rang. The bathroom is directly above the family room, so I yelled for the boys to please answer it. Nothing. I yelled again, as the doorbell rang again. Nothing. I suppose I could have ignored it, but we ordered some chocolate covered popcorn from the boy scouts about a month ago, and I thought maybe it was them coming to deliver it. Besides the close call almost running out of Diet Coke yesterday, we actually have run out of chocolate here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I ended up having to rush back downstairs, just as the doorbell rang again, and they started pounding on the door. I'm beginning to think it is not the boy scouts coming to rescue me from my chocolate withdrawal; they just don't seem like the door pounding type. Just as I reach the door, Tyler starts walking upstairs. I said, no, no, I'll get it. He claimed he didn't hear me yell, but did he seriously not hear the doorbell ring THREE times?? And to top it all off, I open the door to find that, no, it is not the boy scouts. It was two of Tyler's friends coming to see if he wanted to play basketball.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4700723095840067540?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4700723095840067540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4700723095840067540' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4700723095840067540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4700723095840067540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-two-minutes.html' title='Just Two Minutes'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2482310533473327487</id><published>2008-11-21T20:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T21:00:23.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>$1.85 - OMG!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had to run to the gas station tonight because I was down to my last can of Diet Coke.  I really don't like to let it get down that low.  What if there is an emergency and I run out before the last daycare child leaves?!   So, naturally, within about 10 seconds after the last family was out the door, I told Tyler I had to run a quick errand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I could hardly believe my eyes when I pulled in and saw that gas was only $1.85 per gallon!  I've never been one to get overly excited over the price of gas, I mean, what can I do about it, I have to have it.  But since there was another foster child with us when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; was born, we became a family of 8, and could no longer all fit in a minivan, so we had to trade it in for a Suburban.  It got mighty painful during the last year when we had to fill that baby up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Since I always use pay at the pump, and they sometimes will only authorize for up between $75 - $100, there were actually times when we were cut off before the tank was even full if we let it get too empty!  So, tonight, when there was only a quarter of a tank of gas, I was very excited to be able to completely fill up that tank for only $40.00!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I must say, though, I still find it really hard to understand how a gallon of gas can range from almost $4 per gallon to less than $2 per gallon in just a couple of months!  Something just doesn't right about that!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2482310533473327487?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2482310533473327487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2482310533473327487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2482310533473327487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2482310533473327487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/185-omg.html' title='$1.85 - OMG!!'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2446485890988719814</id><published>2008-11-20T14:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T20:47:44.882-06:00</updated><title type='text'>There she goes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; has finally started walking. Okay, so she technically started walking about 2 weeks ago, but, of course, she wouldn't do it when I had the camera out. She is almost exactly the same age Caleb was when he walked, 14 months. All of my kids have been late walkers for some reason.  But once they start they take off in a hurry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Even though she has already taken several steps on her own, Amata still likes to try &amp;amp; help her keep her balance.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271214161807261090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SScdWiGHvaI/AAAAAAAAA5o/R1YC32RRLgI/s320/IMG_0999.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271214174625660114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SScdXR2Q_NI/AAAAAAAAA54/nPSUv_PbnvM/s320/IMG_0990.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271214178695152674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SScdXhAghCI/AAAAAAAAA6A/sBlmaOhWj4o/s320/IMG_0991.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271214189277074578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SScdYIbb1JI/AAAAAAAAA6I/ilYbhdWJmVk/s320/IMG_0992.JPG" border="0" /&gt; What a big girl!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2446485890988719814?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2446485890988719814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2446485890988719814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2446485890988719814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2446485890988719814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/there-she-goes.html' title='There she goes...'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SScdWiGHvaI/AAAAAAAAA5o/R1YC32RRLgI/s72-c/IMG_0999.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-7318385991368875758</id><published>2008-11-20T13:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T14:11:21.701-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cramped</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With Chris' job being in retail, he of course does no have Monday through Friday hours, to say the least. Which, in some respects, can be nice, like him having some time off during the week to take the kids to doctor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;appts&lt;/span&gt;, or preschool, etc. This particular week, he has all day Tuesday off, and didn't go in until 2 on Thursday, and noon the other three days. (The assistant mgr couldn't work night shifts this week for some reason.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I love my husband, but having him home, during daycare for at least a half a day this week is really starting to cramp my style. It's kind of like having somebody stand over your shoulder while you are working.   Especially since he used to run the daycare.  I hate hearing comments like, "oh, you let them do that?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hopefully, next week, there will be a couple of day shifts in the schedule!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-7318385991368875758?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/7318385991368875758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=7318385991368875758' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7318385991368875758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/7318385991368875758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/cramped.html' title='Cramped'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8633821200571509318</id><published>2008-11-15T13:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T13:25:25.493-06:00</updated><title type='text'>High Expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, I admit it is not fair.  I have even admitted that to Tyler.  The fact is, when it comes to school &amp;amp; grades, I expect Tyler to get A's, but with Cameron, I am happy with mostly B's.  It's just because Tyler just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;naturally&lt;/span&gt; excels in school, with little effort.  Cameron, on the other hand has to put in a lot of effort just to get the B's.  Cameron is our creative child, and excels in Art &amp;amp; Band.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had checked Tyler's grades on line last week, and was very pleased to see he did, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;in fact&lt;/span&gt;, have strait A's.  (I am not able to check Cameron's grades online yet, as he is still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;considered&lt;/span&gt; to be in elementary school).  Then, I went on again today to check his grades, since the quarter just ended.  I was surprised to see that one of those grades dropped to a B+.  Now, I admit that is still a good grade, but I also still know that Tyler can do better.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I went into the progress report in that class to see what happened in that week, and saw that he failed the last quiz.  I'm not talking he just missed passing it, he failed it....42%!!  So I called him up to discuss it with him.  Now, to show that I am not completely overbearing about his grades, I did make sure to tell him that his grades were really good.  But I wanted to know what happened on that test.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;His excuse is that lots of kids did bad on that test.  According to him, "She used really hard words on it."  I said that if he had studied for it a little, maybe those words wouldn't have been so hard.  He disagrees and just kept saying that all of the kids in the class did bad.  And then, he wanted to know how much his report card was worth?!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;While we do pay them for good report cards, since they are so different, we don't specifically say so much for an A, B and so on.  We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; pay both of the boys the same amount.  I told him we'd have to wait &amp;amp; see what his dad thought.  But in the mean time, maybe he should do a little studying in that class!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8633821200571509318?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8633821200571509318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8633821200571509318' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8633821200571509318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8633821200571509318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/high-expectations.html' title='High Expectations'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-607758414216936698</id><published>2008-11-13T12:55:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T13:27:53.046-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Safety Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In light of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Caleb's&lt;/span&gt; new feat of learning how to climb out of his crib, we did try a couple things to keep him in bed. Chris was able to lower the mattress one more level, and we did move the little red table. However, Caleb does no seem to be so easily deterred. He is, however, concerned about his safely as he drops down to the floor. The last couple of times I've gone into his room after he has come out, this is what I've found.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268225535538640738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRx_NlpsN2I/AAAAAAAAA5g/Q6pODFyGnL8/s320/IMG_0963.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Just in case he falls, he throws his pillow down first so he'll have some padding!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-607758414216936698?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/607758414216936698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=607758414216936698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/607758414216936698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/607758414216936698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/safety-boy.html' title='Safety Boy'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRx_NlpsN2I/AAAAAAAAA5g/Q6pODFyGnL8/s72-c/IMG_0963.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4473288239452037094</id><published>2008-11-10T14:14:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T14:22:18.061-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Now What?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is 2:15. I have now put Caleb down for his nap three times. Two of those times he had actually fallen asleep on me. However, all three times this has happened...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267125711699739970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRiW7akwhUI/AAAAAAAAA5A/6SK5cTro6wM/s320/IMG_0959.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267125720368610866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRiW763k_jI/AAAAAAAAA5I/V-woLAfh10U/s320/IMG_0960.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267125724016126178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRiW8IdNqOI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/cAxKjqtveOM/s320/IMG_0961.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Which is why he is currently sitting at the table coloring... or more accurately, stealing the crayon box &amp;amp; closing it to irritate the other kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267125730555489906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRiW8g0UbnI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/7mg3fiNrMJ4/s320/IMG_0962.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will be one mighty crabby boy by dinner time tonight!  If I had the time, I would LOVE to just sit &amp;amp; hold him while he slept, but that is just not possible with a daycare!  And while I realize that I could try moving the little red table he is stepping on, I'm quite certain he'd climb out anyway, and then he'd probably hurt himself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4473288239452037094?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4473288239452037094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4473288239452037094' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4473288239452037094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4473288239452037094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/now-what.html' title='Now What?'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRiW7akwhUI/AAAAAAAAA5A/6SK5cTro6wM/s72-c/IMG_0959.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-609875966556326274</id><published>2008-11-08T13:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T13:31:44.161-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Face of FAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRXo_OGHT_I/AAAAAAAAA44/YgHAmz7zXYo/s1600-h/Amata+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266371512092807154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRXo_OGHT_I/AAAAAAAAA44/YgHAmz7zXYo/s320/Amata+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata had her developmental &amp;amp; behavior clinic yesterday. It was one of those days that I was looking forward to &amp;amp; dreading. I had already self diagnosed her with at the very least ADHD, &amp;amp; probably Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. So, they were either going to tell me that she had neither, and the behavior issues we've been experiencing were our own problem or that, yes, she did have a condition for which there is no cure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After looking at her history, taking measurements of her head &amp;amp; face, and having her meet with a psychologist, occupational therapist, pediatrician, speech pathologist &amp;amp; educational specialist, Amata was diagnosed with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome &amp;amp; ADHD. When I researched FAS, the pictures they always show are of extreme examples of the FAS face. I guess that's why I didn't think that Amata really had the physical characteristics, but once the doctor pointed them out I could see them. The has the thinner upper lip and under her nose is smoother than most people. Her eyes are also a little wide-spread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one good thing about this diagnosis is that now she will be able to get the services that she deserves, including early childhood special ed. She didn't qualify before because she scored too high on their testing. But with a diagnosis of FAS which is "a condition known to hinder development", it doesn't matter what her test scores were.&lt;br /&gt;And with ECSE, the school also provides transportation to &amp;amp; from, which was an issue for us when enrolling her in preschool; that's why she is only signed up one morning a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, most of the studies show that children who are diagnosed with FAS prior to beginning school and are raised in a stable home, have a very good chance to lead completely normal lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I would still like to cause bodily harm to the poor excuse for a human being that decided to drink alcohol while she was pregnant with Amata, but it probably wouldn't be in Amata;s best interest if I ended up in jail on assault charges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caleb's assessment is currently scheduled in two weeks, but they mentioned that the speech pathologist may not be able to be there, so it might have to be rescheduled. Seeing how similar his facial features are to Amata's, I won't be surprised if he also ends up with an FAS diagnosis as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quote that the MN Organization on FAS uses often is, "Don't Try Harder, Try Differently. If you've told a child a thousand times and he still does not understand, then it is not the child who is a slow learner." That's going to be a tough one for me! There is a reason I was never a teacher!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-609875966556326274?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/609875966556326274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=609875966556326274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/609875966556326274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/609875966556326274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/face-of-fas_08.html' title='The Face of FAS'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRXo_OGHT_I/AAAAAAAAA44/YgHAmz7zXYo/s72-c/Amata+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3940067813265379799</id><published>2008-11-06T13:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T13:20:01.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>To Caleb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRNCUPot--I/AAAAAAAAA4o/6wTOQAjWOZs/s1600-h/Caleb+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265625304888376290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRNCUPot--I/AAAAAAAAA4o/6wTOQAjWOZs/s320/Caleb+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My dearest, sweet adorable Caleb. I want you to know how much I love it that you want to be such a big boy. I love that you always try to clean everything up. I love that you try to give all of the kids hugs whenever they are crying. I love that you can put on your crocks all by yourself whenever somebody is going outside so that you can try &amp;amp; sneak out with them.I love that you try to go potty anytime somebody is in the bathroom, even though you only sit on it for 2 seconds &amp;amp; then feel the need to wipe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But if you could just do one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;teansy&lt;/span&gt;, tiny, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;itty&lt;/span&gt; bitty favor for me, I would really appreciate it. Could you please try to refrain from whipping your diaper off anywhere &amp;amp; everywhere in the house. Especially those dirty ones.  Because even though you practice wiping about 10 times a day, you still need a wee bit more practice, and when you go in your diaper, your backside needs a little bit more wiping than if you had gone on the potty instead.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you for your help in this matter!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Love, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Your Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3940067813265379799?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3940067813265379799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3940067813265379799' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3940067813265379799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3940067813265379799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/to-caleb.html' title='To Caleb'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SRNCUPot--I/AAAAAAAAA4o/6wTOQAjWOZs/s72-c/Caleb+3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-6364028852598268839</id><published>2008-11-03T19:24:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:51:13.260-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Election Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am not really a political type person at all. I do vote, but I don't consider myself a democrat or republican. So the only thing I have to say about the elections is this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do you really think bombarding my mailbox with your stupid political &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;flyer's&lt;/span&gt; is going to make me want to vote for you? Seriously, this was just one days worth of mail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264612371199796594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-pDvl9pXI/AAAAAAAAA4g/D1e_4WdbFSM/s320/IMG_0948.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I have already had to endure hours of your stupid political commercials bashing one another. There is nothing you can possibly send me in the mail that will affect who I vote for. All these mailing have done was caused me more work to take this crap to the recycling center!  If anything, that would make me not want to vote for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-6364028852598268839?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/6364028852598268839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=6364028852598268839' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6364028852598268839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/6364028852598268839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/election-day.html' title='Election Day'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-pDvl9pXI/AAAAAAAAA4g/D1e_4WdbFSM/s72-c/IMG_0948.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4162172769335458520</id><published>2008-11-03T19:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T20:49:27.444-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trick or Treating</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Halloween is easily one of the favorite holidays for my crew. Chris &amp;amp; the boys (mostly Cameron, although Tyler will help out some) love decorating for it. For the past several years, they have actually created a graveyard. They've tried to add some to it every year. A couple of years ago, the local newspaper even had a picture of it on their front page. It got a pretty windy this year, so by the time I took the pictures, some of it had blown down. I was also too far away, so the picture doesn't really do it justice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264605945148321442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-jNsr5rqI/AAAAAAAAA3I/_BQaVeGkWTs/s320/IMG_0924.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sadly, with Chris' new job, he had to work &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Halloween&lt;/span&gt; night this year. So, I took pictures &amp;amp; Tyler recorded out trick or treating outing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata was of course a princess - what else would she be!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264605967040199122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-jO-PVOdI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/sIlnl_sRT3M/s320/IMG_0931.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Sticking with the obvious, Caleb was a Twins baseball player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264605952112870482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-jOGoYRFI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/yr2LI6YXGfU/s320/IMG_0927.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; doesn't really have any obvious things she loves, so she got the costume I found at the consignment store - a chicken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264605968004286994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-jPB1MChI/AAAAAAAAA3g/VCCIE1Ej3_8/s320/IMG_0935.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cameron decided to be Iron Man, and Tyler had wanted to just get a mask, but never found one he liked (unless you count the $50 plus &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;shipping&lt;/span&gt; one he found online). But I did convince him to throw on his Twins jersey, too, so he &amp;amp; Caleb could be a pair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264606861158139234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-kDBFqRWI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/HhCS142Tymg/s320/IMG_0946.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264607088945115554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-kQRqTsaI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/tbtmjFhayYo/s320/IMG_0947.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264606851715807378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-kCd6buJI/AAAAAAAAA4I/6ZXIGrmGJU8/s320/IMG_0945.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I only took the babies to about half a dozen houses. That's about all they can make it before trying to dig into their candy, anyway. After that we come back home to hand out candy....and the kids seem to have just as much fun answering the door &amp;amp; handing out the candy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264606841961041458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-kB5ktzjI/AAAAAAAAA4A/wl_98Qhv3AE/s320/IMG_0943.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264605977131601026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-jPj1TzII/AAAAAAAAA3o/ksOGYx1tDkE/s320/IMG_0938.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I wasn't sure how Caleb would react to the trick or treating, but he amazed me. At the second house he even tried to walk right in. And although he doesn't actually say "thank you" yet, he did try, basically grunting 2 syllables.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264606832605285858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-kBWuITeI/AAAAAAAAA3w/GEKG59-6D3E/s320/IMG_0940.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, yes, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; did get in on the action. But with me taking the pictures, and her not walking yet, she didn't make it in most of the pictures. I had Tyler snap this one at the very end as we were heading back home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264606838141696242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-kBrWHOPI/AAAAAAAAA34/aQ4u6RbbmxY/s320/IMG_0942.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4162172769335458520?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4162172769335458520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4162172769335458520' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4162172769335458520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4162172769335458520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/trick-or-treating.html' title='Trick or Treating'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQ-jNsr5rqI/AAAAAAAAA3I/_BQaVeGkWTs/s72-c/IMG_0924.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4792346958477260121</id><published>2008-11-01T13:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T13:28:58.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You may have noticed that there are some google ads in my sidebar.  I don't usually pay a lot of attention to what is being advertised there.  In the beginning, I did notice that they were mainly about adoption &amp;amp; foster care.  I just assumed it was because the profile for this blog said I was a mother of 5 &amp;amp; foster care provider. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today I happened to notice the ads were about drains.  I have to assume in response to a recent post.  I just didn't realize that they actually looked at the individual posts when deciding what to advertise for.  I wonder how you can get hired to read blogs in order to decide what ads to run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4792346958477260121?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4792346958477260121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4792346958477260121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4792346958477260121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4792346958477260121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/interesting.html' title='Interesting'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-8453360484319236819</id><published>2008-11-01T11:26:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T12:59:51.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Halloween kind of snuck up on us this year. Normally, we buy our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pumpkins&lt;/span&gt; from a farmer between here &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mankato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - he usually has hay bales, corn stalks &amp;amp; all sizes of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;, and you can get sort of a variety pack for $20. But for some reason he wasn't doing it this year. So on Wednesday, Chris &amp;amp; the boys ran to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mankato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; for some stuff &amp;amp; picked up the pumpkins. Amata &amp;amp; I had to stay behind because she has dance on Wednesdays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Since Thursday was Caleb's birthday and Cameron's band concert, we also needed to get them carved out on Wednesday. Tyler decided this year that he was too old for it, so he didn't pick out anything. But the other 4 kids all got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pumpkins&lt;/span&gt;. Unfortunately, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was way to crabby for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pumpkin&lt;/span&gt; carving, she had to go to bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730313161122146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyG1NVsoWI/AAAAAAAAA1w/XQSB3gZCnV4/s320/IMG_0875.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730955584521314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyHamjXxGI/AAAAAAAAA2A/DtSjc76O-Eg/s320/IMG_0877.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730321402038690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyG1sCfCaI/AAAAAAAAA14/1FRyV89UvK4/s320/IMG_0876.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Caleb &amp;amp; Amata had fun painting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;theirs&lt;/span&gt;. We rarely get out paint around here - I'm sure you can guess why - so it was a real treat for them. Tyler was nice enough to help the little ones. I guess it's okay as long as it's not actually "his" pumpkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730304506051602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyG0tGKvBI/AAAAAAAAA1g/cbXsyPycbik/s320/IMG_0873.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730306828179874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyG01vzmaI/AAAAAAAAA1o/N4N_Ia0atio/s320/IMG_0874.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263728074242887730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyEy4t_kDI/AAAAAAAAA04/ihI6prE5_r8/s320/IMG_0871.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730984313199330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyHcRk0muI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/GfSJElpH2J0/s320/IMG_0879.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263728060349221874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyEyE9fC_I/AAAAAAAAA0w/Bbeq_BFCOSM/s320/IMG_0870.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730963604932450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyHbEblh2I/AAAAAAAAA2I/NoVKvBz61N0/s320/IMG_0878.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Cameron always enjoys the pumpkin Carving. He's the creative child in our house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730294994746738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyG0JqfvXI/AAAAAAAAA1Y/VTbn7vChSkI/s320/IMG_0872.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730994281442162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyHc2tb63I/AAAAAAAAA2g/bwD5UeQxPJk/s320/IMG_0881.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263728091899787106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyEz6fud2I/AAAAAAAAA1I/Nlz7e2YeP4c/s320/IMG_0883.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Amata was nice enough to help clean out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Baylee's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pumpkin. She likes anything that means getting dirty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263730990984686258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyHcqbbarI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/2kxnGwNd3lU/s320/IMG_0880.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This was the final product.  Pay no attention to the two that never got carved.  We meant to finish those Thursday but just ran out of time.  And I completely forgot about them on Friday, until I was taking this picture right before we went out.  Oh well, you can see the nice paint job Amata &amp;amp; Caleb did on them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263749587495649218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyYXH1Jf8I/AAAAAAAAA2o/mu8dBXRz01E/s320/IMG_0926.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-8453360484319236819?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/8453360484319236819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=8453360484319236819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8453360484319236819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/8453360484319236819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/11/pumpkin-time.html' title='Pumpkin Time'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQyG1NVsoWI/AAAAAAAAA1w/XQSB3gZCnV4/s72-c/IMG_0875.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-3204074653265366276</id><published>2008-10-31T14:12:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T16:18:22.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Caleb</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday was Caleb's 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; birthday. Initially his c-section was scheduled for today, Halloween, which would have been even worse, so I'm glad it ended up being moved up a day! As it was, we had daycare until 5:15, and Cameron had a band concert that he had to be at by 6:40 which lasted until 8:45. So, we had to postpone heading to Happy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Joe's&lt;/span&gt; for bad pizza &amp;amp; fun games. Hopefully we can find a night next week to go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He &amp;amp; Amata enjoyed his birthday donuts once they got up. (Tyler &amp;amp; Cameron weren't able to partake, since the birthday donuts were purchased after the were dropped off at school...oops). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263409948010055970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtjdgJliSI/AAAAAAAAAvw/flrUGM35YGY/s320/IMG_0885.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263409992911147282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtjgHa10RI/AAAAAAAAAv4/N-fkDYvPgzE/s320/IMG_0886.JPG" border="0" /&gt;We didn't do much during daycare for his birthday, mostly because I wasn't prepared enough to have gotten some birthday treats before hand, and also because cupcakes with frosting are just not a favorite of mine to give to the daycare kids...way too messy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As soon as the last daycare kids was out the door (okay, so maybe we started a tad before they left), we dined on some yummy PB&amp;amp;J and Cheetos. Seriously, if Caleb was able to say, or sign, those exact words, I have no doubt that is what he would have asked for. As it went, Chris asked him if he wanted some PB&amp;amp;J and chips and Caleb shook his head yes and had a big smile on his face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263410007888567490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtjg_NvHMI/AAAAAAAAAwA/ZgzMlIraNsw/s320/IMG_0887.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263410020558668978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtjhuahhLI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/Iu3ATKZwYM0/s320/IMG_0889.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263410818318342946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtkQKTQGyI/AAAAAAAAAwg/iAiWeeann0U/s320/IMG_0891.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We also managed to squeeze in opening the gifts before we had to leave. He started off strong, opening his new games for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Nintendo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;DS&lt;/span&gt; from Auntie Meggie and a Twins basketball set. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263410825643284674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtkQllp2MI/AAAAAAAAAwo/EsgIvQk0H94/s320/IMG_0892.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263410834766078834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtkRHkso3I/AAAAAAAAAww/1QWjozMHXoc/s320/IMG_0893.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263410843775297410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtkRpIqZ4I/AAAAAAAAAw4/i3jxPbpfK58/s320/IMG_0894.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263411425778840210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtkzhRHspI/AAAAAAAAAxA/G25mTp595lY/s320/IMG_0895.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263411446008545554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtk0soQgRI/AAAAAAAAAxI/CJaF-4TudW4/s320/IMG_0896.JPG" border="0" /&gt;But then he decided to open his gift from Nana next, a foam bat &amp;amp; ball (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;apparently&lt;/span&gt;, Nana was a little nervous playing catch with him using a real baseball). &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263412137471407442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtlc8h2dVI/AAAAAAAAAxo/_v5Wpn_SHJ0/s320/IMG_0900.JPG" border="0" /&gt;He decided he'd had enough gift opening &amp;amp; wanted to play with that. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263411456068136066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtk1SGprII/AAAAAAAAAxY/IAiOtYE-rnA/s320/IMG_0898.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263411471962092194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtk2NUEMqI/AAAAAAAAAxg/b-RH3lEsg78/s320/IMG_0899.JPG" border="0" /&gt;After a little convincing, he finally decided he would finish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263412145883557266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtldb3drZI/AAAAAAAAAxw/81JU1v8eFAk/s320/IMG_0901.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263412150367215554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtldskc38I/AAAAAAAAAx4/rNShFr5Okc0/s320/IMG_0902.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263412158047001314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtleJLdGuI/AAAAAAAAAyA/csDbkOVR5Tk/s320/IMG_0903.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He liked his new "Cars" chair, deciding to sit there while opening the rest of the gifts. He got his very own &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/09/seriously-obsessed.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Twins&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; sweatsuit from Auntie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Marnee&lt;/span&gt; (actually she gave him 2). He decided to wear that to Cameron's band concert - which was fine considering he had lost the pants he was supposed to have been wearing way before lunch. And he finished with a Fisher Price Animal Train &amp;amp; Diego game. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263417086491592354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtp9BENhqI/AAAAAAAAAyg/aOCXSlN-QAs/s320/IMG_0906.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263417098071772882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtp9sNJDtI/AAAAAAAAAyw/SLUp1q3Pkiw/s320/IMG_0907.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263417092680520306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtp9YHxEnI/AAAAAAAAAyo/-rSbSsvNspQ/s320/IMG_0908.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263417078509250370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtp8jVEp0I/AAAAAAAAAyY/xlPLbgArTUg/s320/IMG_0905.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263417745785962546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtqjZIPQDI/AAAAAAAAAy4/JoNvDIptH8o/s320/IMG_0909.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263417758848689074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtqkJyoo7I/AAAAAAAAAzI/8aUtgX7E2gY/s320/IMG_0911.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We did let the kids stay up to enjoy cake &amp;amp; ice cream after the concert...except for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt;, she just couldn't make it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263422936221817394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvRhAlGjI/AAAAAAAAAzg/ZYbriVjyadc/s320/IMG_0914.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263422946449338162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvSHHArzI/AAAAAAAAAzo/K-9asZkBXm4/s320/IMG_0915.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263422949892279778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvST73zeI/AAAAAAAAAzw/ZqzfH1GHDYU/s320/IMG_0916.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263422957249898466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvSvWEJ-I/AAAAAAAAAz4/NVPsA0BI1pw/s320/IMG_0917.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263422966458843666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvTRppghI/AAAAAAAAA0A/uqY-pTkdWiY/s320/IMG_0918.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263423538026755458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtv0i6DtYI/AAAAAAAAA0o/8l0W5KZGDuk/s320/IMG_0919.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263423524531684818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvzwolRdI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/6adqC_Rn59o/s320/IMG_0921.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263423531956107794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtv0MSs-hI/AAAAAAAAA0g/88xXk24D27w/s320/IMG_0920.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Tyler is always such a camera hog!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263423508040670322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtvyzM0XHI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/kzxmvSF-mok/s320/IMG_0922.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-3204074653265366276?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/3204074653265366276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=3204074653265366276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3204074653265366276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/3204074653265366276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-birthday-caleb.html' title='Happy Birthday, Caleb'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SQtjdgJliSI/AAAAAAAAAvw/flrUGM35YGY/s72-c/IMG_0885.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5976317376582716562</id><published>2008-10-28T20:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T20:40:16.290-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back in Business</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I started my third week of daycare, and overall, it is still going pretty well for me.  This week did start off with a bit of a snag, however.  The other night, I cleaned out the fridge, and ended up dumping quite a bit into the garbage disposal.  I didn't think it would be a problem, since it was mainly spaghetti &amp;amp; stuff, softer foods.  But, apparently, I was wrong.  The sink in our kitchen got clogged.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was hopeful it was something Chris could fix, with some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Drano&lt;/span&gt;, and when that didn't work, I knew he had a snake.  I guess it had been building up for a while, though, because neither of those things worked.  So, I finally got the plumber here today.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The conversation started a bit shaky, when he said he the pipes must be enclosed inside the walls, since he couldn't see where they were just by looking under the ceiling tiles.  That did not sound like fun to me, as I'm sure the bill would have gotten mighty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;spendy&lt;/span&gt;, not to mention the mess.  And since Chris had already tried a 25 foot snake, he was not very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hopeful&lt;/span&gt; that the he would be able to get to the clog without tearing up walls.  He was willing to try, though.  So, he ran back to the shop to get what he called a "medium piece of equipment" which was 30 feet long, and a little more powerful than a snake.  He had me go downstairs to see if I could hear the cable in order to figure out where exactly the pipes did run.  It appears they go through the closet in Cameron's room.  Fortunately, he was able to find &amp;amp; clear a blockage with this piece of equipment, and the drain is once again working properly.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Of course, that also meant I no longer had an excuse not to clean the kitchen (without the drain working, I couldn't run the dishwasher, and since it takes forever to get hot water to this faucet, and I had no drain, there wasn't much else I could do, either.)  It also meant that my family was probably going to expect a real dinner tonight.  Last night I served &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Eggo&lt;/span&gt; waffles &amp;amp; eggs.  Because we couldn't have anything that needed water like pasta, and it was really hot inside the house, so I really didn't want to turn on the oven, either.  I was pretty proud of myself, since I'm really not much of a cook.  87% of what I make comes from a box.  But, Tyler requested a cheese &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;omelet&lt;/span&gt;, and it turned out pretty dang good, if I do say so myself.  Perfectly shaped &amp;amp; everything.  Then I decided to get really daring &amp;amp; try to do some over easy eggs for myself (scrambled eggs are my specialty, since you really have to try to screw those up).  The over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;easy's&lt;/span&gt; were pretty good, too.  I didn't break the yoke or over cook it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After a great culinary experience like that, I didn't want to over-do it tonight, so we had Chicken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Kiev&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; wild rice...both from a box :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5976317376582716562?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5976317376582716562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5976317376582716562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5976317376582716562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5976317376582716562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/back-in-business.html' title='Back in Business'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5468861848995376218</id><published>2008-10-24T16:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T16:23:09.952-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know the ones</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;You know how there is always at least one difficult kid in any group setting, school, daycare, birthday party.  Our daycare is no exception, and I wasn't really surprised by it.  But what I wasn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;prepared&lt;/span&gt; for was the fact that the difficult kids in my daycare our my own kids!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata &amp;amp; Caleb are mean.  Amata pushes, steals toys, and yells at times.  And yesterday, Caleb was literally wrestling another little girl down to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ground&lt;/span&gt;.  And of course they wait until I am feeding one of the babies before they start in.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I really want to believe that a persons behavior is affected more by their environment than genetics, but I'm starting to worry that may not be the case.  And if it's not, then we're in BIG trouble as they get over!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5468861848995376218?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5468861848995376218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5468861848995376218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5468861848995376218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5468861848995376218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-know-ones.html' title='You know the ones'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-5267239320757315582</id><published>2008-10-22T21:31:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:41:13.782-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Too Young</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Caleb &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Baylee&lt;/span&gt; decided to help me out with the laundry this morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260172080270849490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SP_ioy34tdI/AAAAAAAAAvg/1m08DUNNA0o/s320/IMG_0867.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260172074158723698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SP_iocGpEnI/AAAAAAAAAvY/rIXXip1I6mc/s320/IMG_0866.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now I just need to teach them that the clothes actually go from the washing machine to the dryer, not the dryer to the washing machine.  But at least they're trying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It was kind of freaky, though.  I had put a load of clothes into the dryer and then got side-tracked for a while.  When I went back to put the chair covers in the washer, there were a few clean &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;washcloths&lt;/span&gt; that were actually folded sitting in the washing machine.  I hadn't folded any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;washcloths&lt;/span&gt;, so I don't know who folded them &amp;amp; put them in there.  I wish I could figure out which one of the kids did it because they actually did a pretty good job, they could help me out some more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-5267239320757315582?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/5267239320757315582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=5267239320757315582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5267239320757315582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/5267239320757315582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/never-too-young.html' title='Never Too Young'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/SP_ioy34tdI/AAAAAAAAAvg/1m08DUNNA0o/s72-c/IMG_0867.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1421211622629862826</id><published>2008-10-20T10:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T10:56:35.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm officially on my second week as a daycare provider, and I am really enjoying being at home.  I'm not as tired as I used to be.  I guess staring at a computer 8 hours a day can really wipe a person out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But here's what I don't get.  I am at home ALL DAY LONG now, and yet, I find I have even less time for the computer &amp;amp; TV than I did before.  I realize a small piece of it maybe that I am still doing some work for the City from home, but that's only a few hours a week.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think they real issue is these kids are just so demanding!  They want me to feed them, take them outside to play, and be a referee for them.  They just don't seem to get that all of that stuff is taking up my valuable computer time!  Not only haven't I been updating this blog very regularly, I haven't even been keeping up with the blogs I usually read on a regular basis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm still hoping that the longer I'm at home, the more of a routine I'll get into so that I will be able get back to posting some pictures of my adorable kids!&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1421211622629862826?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1421211622629862826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1421211622629862826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1421211622629862826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1421211622629862826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/time.html' title='Time'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-438245721139711162</id><published>2008-10-16T12:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T13:02:54.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Give till it Hurts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Amata had dance last night, which goes until 6:15, and that is about the same time Chris got home also, so needless to say, at 6:30 when Amata &amp;amp; I got home dinner was not cooking.  I went to look through the freezers to see if there was something quick we could make, and managed to find some chicken nuggets &amp;amp; shrimp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just came in &amp;amp; started the oven when Tyler walked into the kitchen.  He said, "Mom, did dad tell you about my idea to order pizza from Casey's for dinner?  I'll even call in the order for you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What a giver that boy is!  He just gives &amp;amp; gives until it hurts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sadly, though, that will likely be the last pizza's we order from Casey's.  We just don't have good luck there.  This is the second time in a row that Chris went to pick up the pizza at the time they told us and they hadn't even started cooking them!  Then, this time, the guy apparently slid it wrong, so half of the pizza flipped over in the box.  He also rolled that crust paper thin in the middle, so even the pieces that didn't get flipped over fell apart.  At least Chris didn't pay for that pizza, but it still pretty much wrecked our dinner. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chris said he's planning to call the company, but the last time we did that, the store manager called to bitch me out for not calling her first.  Seriously???  Maybe she should spend a little more time in her store at night, and then she'd know that her employees were screwing around.  (Honestly, over half the time our pizza are made wrong, or not ready on time.)  It is just disappointing because when it's made properly, I really do like their pizza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-438245721139711162?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/438245721139711162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=438245721139711162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/438245721139711162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/438245721139711162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/give-till-it-hurts.html' title='Give till it Hurts'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1776237766465819479</id><published>2008-10-14T21:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T21:12:30.007-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer is: Nine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Answer is: Nine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Question:  How many dirty diapers did I change today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Answer is:  3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Question:  How many times have I put on Caleb's pajamas tonight, zipping up them all the way up &amp;amp; snapping them at the top before he decided to take them off?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seriously, after 2 days of daycare, things are going pretty well.  I haven't lost a kid yet, nor have their been any serious injuries.  I admit I did have to break out a bandage today, but that was just for a ripped fingernail.  Maybe once I get into a better routine I'll have a little more down time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1776237766465819479?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1776237766465819479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1776237766465819479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1776237766465819479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1776237766465819479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/answer-is-nine.html' title='The Answer is: Nine'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-2909435855990612968</id><published>2008-10-13T14:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T19:44:08.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Football Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tyler had an awesome football game last week. The previous game, he had again seen very little playing time, so Chris decided it was time to contact the coach. And while, no matter what, the rules state that all kids are to have equal playing time regardless of how good they are, you still don't want them to have a horrible game right after you contact the coach!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But in his last game, besides being &lt;a href="http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2008-09-24T10%3A05%3A00-05%3A00&amp;amp;max-results=12"&gt;the cutest player on the field&lt;/a&gt;, Tyler also had TWO interceptions! The first one he ran back for a touchdown!! I was pretty ticked off about this one, though. Because the games start at 4:30 and the last daycare kids don't leave until about 5:15, Chris &amp;amp; I take turns going. If it's a home game, the other person can usually catch at least the last half. It was supposed to be my turn to go to the whole game, but since Chris has to work during the next game, I let him go instead....and so I didn't even get to see his first interception. The second one was actually the last play of the game, so his team was able to complete a shut out of the other team.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He said he got the interception by just hanging back &amp;amp; watching. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt;, the quarterback of the other team also had a certain player that he always threw the ball to, and so Tyler just stayed near him. I told him to tell our quarterback that, so maybe he will try to throw the ball to more players. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Needless to say, he was pretty pumped after that game! And Chris &amp;amp; I were pretty proud, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-2909435855990612968?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/2909435855990612968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=2909435855990612968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2909435855990612968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/2909435855990612968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/football-star.html' title='Football Star'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-1314903247922037343</id><published>2008-10-09T08:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T14:10:25.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Celebrity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, first of all I know I've been slacking with my posts a bit this week. But it is my last week at my job so I'm feverishly trying to get everything that I have been putting off til another day done this week! Okay, it's not actually my "last day" last day, the council did approve me to work part time after hours &amp;amp; from home for at least a month, possibly longer depending on how the hiring goes, but it is my last day here during normal business hours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But moving on... during Fire Prevention Week, the fire department drives all over the town with their lights on and sometimes sirens, and the kids of the firemen are usually riding on the truck, too. I don't know exactly why the do, but the kids always like it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So last night when I heard them coming I told the kids to watch for them. They came by once and then turned around at the end of the road and came by a second time. Caleb was still standing by the window, and as they drove past I heard a "Hi Caleb" coming from the truck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm pretty sure it came from one of the boys that was on Tyler's baseball team this past summer. Caleb was kind of their little mascot, as he loved to throw the ball to the kids who were on the bench. It got to the point that as we would be walking to the field, we'd hear someone saying "Hey, Caleb's here." I sure hope that his celebrity status here doesn't go to his head!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-1314903247922037343?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/1314903247922037343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=1314903247922037343' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1314903247922037343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/1314903247922037343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-little-celebrity.html' title='My Little Celebrity'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-243430049665732409</id><published>2008-10-07T15:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:43:19.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Judgemental</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, so I know I am being a bit hypocritical here, but I really hate it when people who don't know me get judgmental.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last night was Cameron's night out and he wanted to go see Eagle Eye. I admit I didn't know much about it, but it is only rated PG-13. When we got to the popcorn counter to pay for our $5.10 small popcorn &amp;amp; $3.50 box of candy Cameron wanted (We did at least stop at a vending machine to buy our pop &amp;amp; sneak it in) the gal at the counter said, "You must be seeing the 7:00 Chihuahua showing." I said actually we were there to see Eagle Eye. She looked shocked and said, "Oh, well I just assumed..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now I admit this movie does have some swearing in it, but it's not like my boys don't know what those words are. They also know I better never hear them using those words. (Heck, to this day, I still don't swear in front of my mother) And technically there was some violence, but it was mostly military/war violence, not a bunch of kids running around shooting things up. And besides, it's not like he went alone. I was with him, so if there was anything in the movie that concerned me I could have discussed it with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now, I know that I can be a wee bit judgemental at times, but at least I don't say it to their face. I wait until they are gone before and then I tell whoever I'm with!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-243430049665732409?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/243430049665732409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=243430049665732409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/243430049665732409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/243430049665732409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/judgemental.html' title='Judgemental'/><author><name>Stacie from MN</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16593280395250175507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfNG0zI5Bw4/S3C63i0vfII/AAAAAAAABxQ/_MXT5ZkqnsE/S220/229.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9046888871774786724.post-4917054728149551973</id><published>2008-10-06T15:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T15:55:11.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well work pretty well sucked today.  I had the worst day at payroll I've had in years!  I'm still not done, but at least paychecks are out, so the employees are happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The best part of my day was when I ran home to pick up Amata for an appointment.  Caleb ran to the door and yelled, "Mama".  That is another new word for him.  Granted it came behind ball, poop &amp;amp; m&amp;amp;m, but at least he finally said it!  (Especially since he has not said "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dada"&lt;/span&gt; yet....all of our kids have always said that first!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9046888871774786724-4917054728149551973?l=mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/4917054728149551973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9046888871774786724&amp;postID=4917054728149551973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4917054728149551973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9046888871774786724/posts/default/4917054728149551973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommyinthemoment.blogspot.com/2008/10/mo
