tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-311749852024-03-14T06:13:43.579-05:00midwest girl at heartSallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.comBlogger516125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-17851697168022102172010-12-20T17:18:00.000-06:002010-12-20T17:18:49.997-06:00what makes it worth it...I'm exhausted. I don't remember the last time I slept more than 90 minutes in a row. My eyes burn constantly. I survive on chocolate and caffeine (since being released to a regular diet after Sammy's colic treatments). I'm irritable and not always nice. I'm dread the nights b/c I know that Sam will wake up constantly.<br />
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But you know what? <br />
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I know it's worth it (and I guess deep down I know it won't last forever). You know why? Because I have this awesome 2 1/2 year old who reminds me that the infant stage doesn't last forever (of course, it's followed by sometimes not fun times as a toddler). <br />
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He is at this wonderful stage where he freely gives me giant hugs and tells me many times a day that he loves me (as he's doing right this minute as I try to type). He climbs behind me in the chair and says he wants to rub my back because it hurts. He tells me thank you, you're welcome, I'm sorry I hurt you, Mommy, and he "shakes his booty."<br />
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And then today, on our way home from playing with friends (9 boys and 2 girls between 5 moms...and 3 kids were missing!), I turned around and told him how proud I was of him for behaving so well while we were at our friend's house. I told him thank you for obeying me and for being such a good boy. And do you know what he said?? He told me, "thank you mom for taking me to play with my friends." <br />
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Oh boy. Stick a fork in me. I'm done. My boy is the BOMB! Love you so much Little Major!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3IVrqfhglUZABjbOr5cPWiqcZssl-Wx1nqywQ8kNticzboWTbYvFE8U26CjgqZDXGDkaYz3JJ5g_MWK9qNfCNp0FDph4j81pAidfY3RI28GfxtXdxszMGJiqcDasLYItSXzxMw/s1600/IMG_6993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib3IVrqfhglUZABjbOr5cPWiqcZssl-Wx1nqywQ8kNticzboWTbYvFE8U26CjgqZDXGDkaYz3JJ5g_MWK9qNfCNp0FDph4j81pAidfY3RI28GfxtXdxszMGJiqcDasLYItSXzxMw/s320/IMG_6993.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-34781865180046460162010-12-11T21:13:00.001-06:002010-12-11T21:14:29.973-06:00My New BabySo, I was (hopefully) at the bottom of the barrel when I wrote my last post. I was exhausted, frustrated, angry, and not feeling very loving or optimistic. But, we seemed to have turned a corner. Sam had a great 2 treatments at the end of the week, and he's been so much happier and not in pain. Praise the Lord!!<br />
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It's like we have a brand new baby in the house - one who doesn't cry constantly, isn't in pain, and smiles at us! Woo hoo! (Now, let's hope this keeps up!)<br />
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The doctor had told me that there would be ups and downs, but I never expected the "downs" to be so terrible. I'm praying that there will only be "ups" from now on - and thankfully the chiro thinks that is the case. <br />
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I went back to eating dairy, but I'm skipping the straight milk. We'll see if I can tell a difference. Sam has done so great the last 3 days that I'm not sure if it's the doctor, the milk, or both. But, I'm hoping that this is our last week of treaments. I'm SO ready to get our days back. This week we have doctor's appointments every.single.day. Four for Sam and one for me. Not fun! <br />
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It doesn't even feel like Christmas is coming b/c we've been so wrapped up in our craziness...but I'm ready to get into the spirit. Mom and I are going to try to get some baking done tomorrow.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYhsJ5iLwTdh9UnTgmvHvU1BaX191tOcwqDpT1RhRjXzfNBnI51ZoZKU1V2YBocGy9jJAXNGE5eoSp64rhwiAJzYhwYZ8bBI1QW7WEFM3chFtNVeFp_CB5QvBTyeLok7KyRMlMw/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaYhsJ5iLwTdh9UnTgmvHvU1BaX191tOcwqDpT1RhRjXzfNBnI51ZoZKU1V2YBocGy9jJAXNGE5eoSp64rhwiAJzYhwYZ8bBI1QW7WEFM3chFtNVeFp_CB5QvBTyeLok7KyRMlMw/s320/IMG_0339.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Thanks for your prayers and encouragement! It helped me a lot! Keep 'em coming! =)Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-22766744992938547452010-12-09T09:28:00.000-06:002010-12-09T09:28:47.652-06:006 weeksBaby Sam is 6 weeks old today...and let me tell you, it's been a long 6 weeks! All my confidence that I talked about in my previous post?? Well, it's left the building. <br />
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Sam cries ALL THE TIME. At 3 weeks old, he was diagnosed w/ colic...a condition I'd thought was completely made up until now. At first with Major we were told he had colic, but he was later diagnosed w/ reflux, we got meds and life became pleasant. I thought colic was a term doctors used when they didn't know what else to call it.<br />
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But, we've been seeing a chiropractor (which is much against what I normally would do) who claims to be able to cure colic. We see the doctor 4 times a week for treatment - a treatment where he massages and puts pressure on Sam's belly in an effort to strengthen the valve between his small and large intestine. We saw improvement almost immediately...but after a week or so, we were right back to square one. Well, maybe not quite back to square one. We aren't seeing as much colic (wailing scream of pain, hard tummy, and kicking feet and flailing hands), we think, but we are seeing a ton of crying. Basically, Sam cries unless you're holding him. And if he was my first, I'd be able to hold him almost all of the time, but I cna't do that w/ a 2 year old to take care of. Not to mention that I don't want to miss a year of Major's life while I hold Sam.<br />
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I'm beginning to wonder if something else is going on w/ Sam. Our chiro says babies cry for 2 reasons - they're hungry or they're uncomfortable. So, if Sam is fed, changed, and not kicking w/ colic, what could possibly be wrong?? <br />
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Another part of the colic treatment is a special (read: STUPID) diet for nursing moms. It's a low protein, high carb, no seasoning, no caffeine, no carbonation, no chocolate no red meat no fruits or veggeis COMPLETELY UNHEALTHY diet. I've been on it for almost 3 weeks, and I'm pretty much dying. All I can think about is coffee or diet coke, with a big fat cheeseburger as a close second. The theory is that this diet helps the baby heal from colic more quickly by producing less gas. Dairy is allowed - so my diet has been made up of cheese, milk, vanilla ice cream, bread, butter, and chicken. BUT, since we still have the crying bouts, my mom thought Sam might have an allergy to milk. So, as of yesterday, I've also cut out dairy. Oi. What is there to eat????<br />
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I know I'm whining here, and yes, I'm skeptical about this path we're going down, but we were ready to try anything. I've about decided that I just dont produce easy babies. At least this all confirms that we're done with 2!!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEJoneNbb3B89A5_1XV0ubgH6-mdNWJrnKJO_edcYEmBJfdg2bQOAF0amGN6-vodaUV4F34UhnFiLBljIe2m7D9k0LJPOuJG9RmIrcz5KUfELQnbsQeKKMFl_Yu4Rw_Iy8SPpdA/s1600/1+month+-g.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZEJoneNbb3B89A5_1XV0ubgH6-mdNWJrnKJO_edcYEmBJfdg2bQOAF0amGN6-vodaUV4F34UhnFiLBljIe2m7D9k0LJPOuJG9RmIrcz5KUfELQnbsQeKKMFl_Yu4Rw_Iy8SPpdA/s320/1+month+-g.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>If you don't hear from me for a year, I'm holding a crying baby...but he is pretty cute!Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-87305335904554194392010-11-10T16:31:00.001-06:002010-11-10T16:37:55.185-06:00It's a...<span style="font-size: x-large;">BOY!!</span><br />
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<div align="center"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqyfmbUO2-qOOpGQjtWcA_OSmYlNa2HkLPDzsYBSdvFsBEetTOpyPn77ATLSSU1kKUq9FOIQb_COkAv7GsrLraOWMqp0utbwCi3zvVmF4QDpi2oJe89Ytjmlu66L8poah43m1gg/s320/IMG_6783.JPG" width="320" /></div><br />
Baby Sam is here! He made his appearance on his own time -- with no consideration for the plan Mommy had for him to be born on Nov. 5. Oh well, Mommy sure wasn't sad to not be pregnant anymore. He was born healthy and well 8 days before his scheduled arrival (I was 38 weeks exactly). After I spent all day cleaning like a mad woman, I went into labor on my own, but didn't realize that what I was feeling was contractions, so it was 8 hours later before we went to the hospital. Oops. Oh well, all worked out, and I have a healthy and beautiful baby boy!<br />
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I'm the mom to 2 boys!! Woo hoo! I'll forever be known as a Boy Mama. My sweet dog, Lucy, and I are now outnumbered in our house, but that's ok. I love all of my boys.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLBiN9o5Q0U2m4MsJj0kMdHwArMarBt8sAemve0BeArr-UYf7LVHNo4NfL25gO9lvn7zs330bzr9bByiCmj52xI7y28gS4yPqEZL6XFr8DHTyWDaHbnieQ-956C7EjEJbXptHR2Q/s1600/IMG_6825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLBiN9o5Q0U2m4MsJj0kMdHwArMarBt8sAemve0BeArr-UYf7LVHNo4NfL25gO9lvn7zs330bzr9bByiCmj52xI7y28gS4yPqEZL6XFr8DHTyWDaHbnieQ-956C7EjEJbXptHR2Q/s320/IMG_6825.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Big brother Major needed a few days to get used to the idea of baby brother being a real live human who came to live in our house. The first thing he said when we got home from the hospital was that he wanted Sam to go home. But, after 2 days, he was in love as much as the rest of us. He loves to hold and kiss him, and he always wants to pat his head or rub his leg. It was just a few days after we were home that Major said to me, unprovoked, "I love you, Mom," and he already says that to his baby brother, too. Melt my heart.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjN3Uc7Do4Mur86qcCQm8BCK2nUbmfd101mmO_2KUn0rl8pcHaKYgnPylkv3lye5z3m23fAA1Q6QcrT7haCGrD1QPeLdAtb95FjtW2T1Lbik7qEfg1DkH-4BXPCQLFfOSvAEojw/s1600/IMG_6899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjN3Uc7Do4Mur86qcCQm8BCK2nUbmfd101mmO_2KUn0rl8pcHaKYgnPylkv3lye5z3m23fAA1Q6QcrT7haCGrD1QPeLdAtb95FjtW2T1Lbik7qEfg1DkH-4BXPCQLFfOSvAEojw/s320/IMG_6899.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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We have had a rough start at home though. Major got his second cold this month just a few days after we got home from the hospital. He's had a horrible cough and sore throat, and he's just felt pretty yucky. Add that to getting used to a newborn (who we def don't want to get sick) and trying to figure out nursing and sleeping and being a family of 4, and we've had some rough times. <br />
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Here's my sicky...<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-175Ws9AvlHnvA-ZMqF7zOu3K3uSfGx4aPXxIfzIL1MLnH3wjBTRbENNTjkT888tOabRhjFwZbVXvXPKlQyXcuo29LrYVE8Y5zSxgvf4MsAFvNxNTTrWv0D6thwI967ov-xoRVw/s1600/IMG_6917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-175Ws9AvlHnvA-ZMqF7zOu3K3uSfGx4aPXxIfzIL1MLnH3wjBTRbENNTjkT888tOabRhjFwZbVXvXPKlQyXcuo29LrYVE8Y5zSxgvf4MsAFvNxNTTrWv0D6thwI967ov-xoRVw/s320/IMG_6917.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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But, finally today, I think that Major is on the mend. We even ventured out on a family outing to the zoo. It was a little chilly, and we had to stop twice to nurse and we didn't last very long, but it was so fun to get out. The Colonel has been off work since the baby was born, and we are SO enjoying having him home. He heads back to work next week, and I'm already to sad (and a bit panicked!).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4ZIpyzJLeylROg5EHIo3Fh6clLq7LN-BOw08U7THmahzVGm1tvnk6MBLgFLEuf1qm_vlgshKO7CxRwlPBWXIUZiC1jEAn8HscqIRSKr6b1LCpuzi6i2SFA-e2t5BUNsejHl-dw/s1600/IMG_6931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4ZIpyzJLeylROg5EHIo3Fh6clLq7LN-BOw08U7THmahzVGm1tvnk6MBLgFLEuf1qm_vlgshKO7CxRwlPBWXIUZiC1jEAn8HscqIRSKr6b1LCpuzi6i2SFA-e2t5BUNsejHl-dw/s320/IMG_6931.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUZFaXiH1RyXeJjKGyPX9zCKKTBPdUYHYrnCEZ4bmTSXYdhEQnsmk1MjzPOYTg7mNoWGhyPzqk2fKATGXu8J7Sl8O1wvCk9qdHtOdb6fOsUUCX083QC_0ENxcwsHslt2gLWkiyg/s1600/IMG_6928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUZFaXiH1RyXeJjKGyPX9zCKKTBPdUYHYrnCEZ4bmTSXYdhEQnsmk1MjzPOYTg7mNoWGhyPzqk2fKATGXu8J7Sl8O1wvCk9qdHtOdb6fOsUUCX083QC_0ENxcwsHslt2gLWkiyg/s320/IMG_6928.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
There are so many things that I forgot about having a newborn, but it's slowly coming back to me. I definitely feel more confident this time around, and little Sam has softened my heart to other things as well. Somehow, in all the chaos and sickness, I've been able to find more patience than I had before. I've been more sensitive and kind towards Major, and I absolutely appreciate what a great father The Colonel is. I seriously could not do any of this without him!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvn0JmkV7n1-s1fGIaqpm5oXQ39uQ4N1X4m0Ymi6kBLeqwf4sok670fdEVg2XlpiiNackh5e5TqlcHDHshHkQZgOB3lzkPahJgGf_3J_vUH-GS1nZvgHpuNHxZCaRDSpiQrU5agg/s1600/IMG_6890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvn0JmkV7n1-s1fGIaqpm5oXQ39uQ4N1X4m0Ymi6kBLeqwf4sok670fdEVg2XlpiiNackh5e5TqlcHDHshHkQZgOB3lzkPahJgGf_3J_vUH-GS1nZvgHpuNHxZCaRDSpiQrU5agg/s320/IMG_6890.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_zRXd5LuI_XeMkySeTw4KImhSTgp92luoisObLC7WKSw07NJvE4bgSd5iclq0763eLz4tWJwBJ4EHfajQ-OaCRe_1fn09px2vUkOTu1jPyyHFaGPHPIKcaiX5Xo0Tjpni_N91w/s1600/IMG_6878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_zRXd5LuI_XeMkySeTw4KImhSTgp92luoisObLC7WKSw07NJvE4bgSd5iclq0763eLz4tWJwBJ4EHfajQ-OaCRe_1fn09px2vUkOTu1jPyyHFaGPHPIKcaiX5Xo0Tjpni_N91w/s320/IMG_6878.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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So, happy fall from the family of 4!<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilu6JzJ-bDw93Z1ps_eC_oLTrvIVGo_b4h9zjZNVw1jg66l9fW2dMCgNOIiq1dsTn9VKIRS5eNqUr-LM1iB8qdh2yo0ZfSD32FrxQ0P8n3ykCEPGY_S-Q1vKxuugbwPzZm_bdagw/s1600/IMG_6821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilu6JzJ-bDw93Z1ps_eC_oLTrvIVGo_b4h9zjZNVw1jg66l9fW2dMCgNOIiq1dsTn9VKIRS5eNqUr-LM1iB8qdh2yo0ZfSD32FrxQ0P8n3ykCEPGY_S-Q1vKxuugbwPzZm_bdagw/s320/IMG_6821.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqyfmbUO2-qOOpGQjtWcA_OSmYlNa2HkLPDzsYBSdvFsBEetTOpyPn77ATLSSU1kKUq9FOIQb_COkAv7GsrLraOWMqp0utbwCi3zvVmF4QDpi2oJe89Ytjmlu66L8poah43m1gg/s1600/IMG_6783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-53675707579403095902010-09-23T17:13:00.000-05:002010-09-23T17:13:29.870-05:00When it rains, it hailsLast Wednesday, Major and I were just minding our business waiting for Daddy to get home from work when it started pouring rain. Daddy made it home fine, and then 10 minutes later it started hailing. It started with small hail, and then gradually got bigger....until it was the size of a baseball!! I'm not exaggerating...see the pictures!<br />
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It started like this...<br />
<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_X6etH3rehCWEFrFKeAWOlX8iKVrBKF-iXerWgq-FXE9mx3HeD_s8fCVRiPp6BbhXp1kObb7rymCvUFJr2zhmS0o7gJY4uDSCgCxOYV8X663K0jNn55jWkzH4sPHTLfeD3pgAQ/s1600/hail1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO_X6etH3rehCWEFrFKeAWOlX8iKVrBKF-iXerWgq-FXE9mx3HeD_s8fCVRiPp6BbhXp1kObb7rymCvUFJr2zhmS0o7gJY4uDSCgCxOYV8X663K0jNn55jWkzH4sPHTLfeD3pgAQ/s320/hail1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And then became this...<br />
<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbU1stPjLt8O2_o2HB9OiVutSUqU4kk4iH2SS-Spbe1z-5Xyw1HACA-5jFU_nfLBX0ZBpRcCF9R_jYMSOF0ovAQiFoQp5uTwk5hHYzmSA5n1FOd2jNayfImej3TCP1Zn5RLOiVoQ/s1600/hail4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbU1stPjLt8O2_o2HB9OiVutSUqU4kk4iH2SS-Spbe1z-5Xyw1HACA-5jFU_nfLBX0ZBpRcCF9R_jYMSOF0ovAQiFoQp5uTwk5hHYzmSA5n1FOd2jNayfImej3TCP1Zn5RLOiVoQ/s320/hail4.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our front yard...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_0boXQVH9VTQ4NDZ84__OKYlkZEZphjCtB1V8c3Iiv1A_d2Spph9WivuwHkcos08aZzp3vnuzPttpqeL_KZ32FQ-Xijw1GmRANHarcD34nJGMZKkg_gkG1_X-8NYv8qpTNyV0Gg/s1600/hail3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_0boXQVH9VTQ4NDZ84__OKYlkZEZphjCtB1V8c3Iiv1A_d2Spph9WivuwHkcos08aZzp3vnuzPttpqeL_KZ32FQ-Xijw1GmRANHarcD34nJGMZKkg_gkG1_X-8NYv8qpTNyV0Gg/s320/hail3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our backyard...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif28MZJXRxn0xdbGFNXCWU0E-g8B2SbDMW5pU3vSqkctUplsc4DxfpHwRIW5OyWqqYR5H3LvvVkVxYu6Fep8G9hsZvNauAYi1cAYEhQ-uTSMf_srdJUU0WQqWKiPIfF4RZ_baDRA/s1600/hail2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif28MZJXRxn0xdbGFNXCWU0E-g8B2SbDMW5pU3vSqkctUplsc4DxfpHwRIW5OyWqqYR5H3LvvVkVxYu6Fep8G9hsZvNauAYi1cAYEhQ-uTSMf_srdJUU0WQqWKiPIfF4RZ_baDRA/s320/hail2.jpg" /></a></div>I ran in to get the camera (we were hanging out in the garage looking out at it) while my brave, stupid (who knows?) husband was running out to retrieve the stones (he DID have a board over his head and back to protect him) so I could take pictures of them. The hail lasted for about 20 minutes, I guess. It sounded like bombs were landing on our roof. When they hit the cement, they made the scariest sound and bounced toward us. I kept pushing Major further into the garage to keep him safe. <br />
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The boys were enjoying the show, thinking it was pretty cool...but I was almost in tears. All I saw were $$ signs. <br />
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My mom was out shopping right then, so Dad called her and told her not to come home. She drove over to our church and took cover under the awning there until it ended. Dad had to scramble to clear a spot in their garage for his truck - he's been working on the garage, so all their tools and stuff were piled up in the middle. We hurried and moved the lawnmower and trash cans so Mom could park in our 3rd bay when she finally made it home. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It was pretty scary...my Kansas born and bred husband had never in his life seen hail like this. We still have 3 stones in our freezer - between tennis ball and baseball size.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The insurance adjustors are SWAMPED, and so here we are a week later, and our adjustor was supposed to come today. But, this morning it was scary windy, so he called and postponed until this weekend. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, you kow what's happening right now???</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It's POURING outside and has been for the last 3 hours, at least. Great. Baseball size hail holes in my roof and it's pouring. And once the insurance and roofer agree on what needs to be done and price, then we can FINALLY schedule a new roof to be installed (all of our neighbors have already been told their roofs are totaled)...but who knows when they will be able to get to us. And in the meantime, a new baby will be entering our lives in 6 weeks. 6 WEEKS!! Please God, let this all be settled by then!</div>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-57788596891651992372010-09-20T13:59:00.006-05:002010-09-20T22:27:03.179-05:00My Big Boy<div><div><div>In two weeks, lil Major will be 2 1/2...30 months...I can't believe it. In some ways it feels like he's been part of our lives forever, but it's really only been 2 1/2 years. Of course, I can NOT imagine my life without him now.</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519198599547054418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGkcc-4FVTYDnoprv5ejAWtgMTI4CTUU8MGpUBXwW2YC2GgxrTjI66-L8rMoPuD5NhHUFv13NT3pYskUvjJjpkX43KzKKHZpGNv1s-1CCleFWNPlGIPaF8Z4SCgWW-9DbpeXeQQ/s320/IMG_5831.JPG" /></div><br /><div>He is so much fun and so frustrating...sometimes at the same time. He is smart and happy and loving and anything else a proud mama can say.</div><br /><div>He amazes me every day with all that he knows and all that he remembers. We were driving by Lowe's the other day, and he points and says, "that's where the big green bug is up high and they have tractors like Daddy's and lawn mowers." Seriously, how does he remember all that??? He remembers people and names and who they belong to and what they have at their house. </div><br /><div>He definitely knows right from wrong and how to push Mommy's buttons. He knows that if I mention "the spoon" that I'm really serious. He knows that Mommy has a baby in her belly, but if you ask him if he wants a little brother or sister, he usually says "no." =) </div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519201648882786018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZXWDH7XfbxFsEHZHb-kyWp0w39tnL6X9l3PaTaiUA31zVVwzQvbYSbVXN8wISZ6TWG3RlRXWZLuThaqkMOA2Vv2RdAv3S5slpwZposIdOJUoH_MXtQLa0g3qGIFGebx0YgOJ8A/s320/IMG_6175.JPG" /><br /><div>He says please and thank you. He loves baseball, basketball, golf and football, but nothing beats swinging in the backyard or at the park. He never tires of driving cars with Daddy or reading books or watching Cars. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHHMdlx6cnD0WVfujz-kY5ybK46tPGH4jzh3wkmz7qBEqI43MYczcsbA6z5eyddGHL_BOeXjUg9mhgUHqlQpT7I3OqBu3TEtA-tFHnnI7UA7XRcamIPFVTpktQlhhj01YBegKsGQ/s1600/IMG_6269.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519201652465588034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHHMdlx6cnD0WVfujz-kY5ybK46tPGH4jzh3wkmz7qBEqI43MYczcsbA6z5eyddGHL_BOeXjUg9mhgUHqlQpT7I3OqBu3TEtA-tFHnnI7UA7XRcamIPFVTpktQlhhj01YBegKsGQ/s320/IMG_6269.JPG" /></a><br /><div>He loves his bedtime/naptime routine, and he is a champ when it's time to go to sleep. He still loves to rock and sing with his Mommy, and he reminds me to pray if I forget. Before I walk out of the room, he always says, "see you when I wake up." Sometimes he tells us, "don't let the bed bugs bite."</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEMrY5Iu8k_TUV82d2MbvyIlANsswUbbnvYlCFmlyB6IQvwIPrfT_9lbwaF1UHK3KfBrOsooP2OIXSckXe0AFnGqwEG5D75UI_fDQNeh_mxVuYwZQO-K2OrV7a4P0UTyt4lrB5A/s1600/IMG_5979.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519198626247747506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdEMrY5Iu8k_TUV82d2MbvyIlANsswUbbnvYlCFmlyB6IQvwIPrfT_9lbwaF1UHK3KfBrOsooP2OIXSckXe0AFnGqwEG5D75UI_fDQNeh_mxVuYwZQO-K2OrV7a4P0UTyt4lrB5A/s320/IMG_5979.JPG" /></a><br /><div>He knows the ABC song, and he can recognize some of the numbers. He can count to 14 (on most days), and his favorite songs are: This is the Day the Lord has Made, the Patient song, and Jesus Loves the Little Children. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44w0EUialrKuO-_zmm6Mt4jJKA4Y8hzynRWYIFGAShduEv-bt-S_Sa_6owK59b6A1cJU_KXq5w2WUYfCO0QycMRc9kcZRHU2V3N3zkD93gaZTI7AJpJlKZFYP2qhllMs4QX0CIA/s1600/IMG_3887.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519201635327986322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44w0EUialrKuO-_zmm6Mt4jJKA4Y8hzynRWYIFGAShduEv-bt-S_Sa_6owK59b6A1cJU_KXq5w2WUYfCO0QycMRc9kcZRHU2V3N3zkD93gaZTI7AJpJlKZFYP2qhllMs4QX0CIA/s320/IMG_3887.JPG" /></a><br /><div>As we drive along, he calls out all the vehicles he sees: Hummer, cement truck, trash truck, mail truck, fire truck, Jeep, Motorcycle, police car, ambulance. He also knows where we get ice cream (Freddy's), tater tots (Sonic), french fries (McD's), Bob the Buffalo (Ted's Montana Grill), treats (Quik Trip) and gas (Dillons)...and he calls all those out as we go by. At least once a day, he asks to go to one of the "treats" places. It's so hard to say NO to the little guy.</div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519198613616301106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUdsMdgWx2EumcuVk7-9swQx5024YR7UQP9qe7rHAlbWmsy8NPRbAaMra5oDE0BHS6abIdQHCWQcp2kmnR_xeQVggKvvJAGnzRd7ymY7_bIHuS-D0NF4VFI7xcmQSmqRZDV3_Ng/s320/IMG_5873.JPG" /><br /><div><div>He's wearing size 9 shoes, but he's well on his way to size 10. He's in 3T shirts and 2T pants, and he still has the most beautiful big blue eyes and super long lashes that melt me into a puddle when he looks at me. I can't help but smother him in hugs and kisses many many times each day. </div><br /><div>He loves to give bear hugs (complete w/ a growl), kiss his Mama, "pound it," salute like Papa, and wave and blow kisses. When we leave Mema and Papa's house, we have to stand in the yard and do our goodbye routine for several minutes...as we run through all the ways to say goodbye.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519198619128149282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmle7_ubanOdzzsP8JKWyaA8hyphenhyphenrFpNL7l4sDcLuqlX195BcY4RnnRw-sCewLiMcCgFk0BTv86RrPk3JAUwMog8TqBlYmf6ZsOeaGfJQO5dGHKK4-45Tcr2dgKuNmbSF_k3ywalcQ/s320/IMG_5921.JPG" /><br /><div>As the time ticks by until baby #2 arrives, I'm finding myself feeling a little sad. I'm so excited to meet the new baby joining our family, and I'm SO ready to not be pregnant anymore, but I'm SOOOOO sad that my one-on-one time w/ Major is coming to an end. No matter what, I want Major to feel just as important and loved after the baby as he does right now. And I don't know how to do that, because there's no way I can give him as much attention post-baby as I do now. </div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUsqJ9UkPF45DcBOgmnfmUXPNZjdw2R17cRvAWqVR5vKwNWAmO3qCU012HrJBmpqpQ1OdWm-31yl1LFey8Q3Touding6TI5uHJhUzOqyIDqxDIC40EbiRIdUmc715JOBmrxX_3ig/s1600/IMG_6307.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519201663398078146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUsqJ9UkPF45DcBOgmnfmUXPNZjdw2R17cRvAWqVR5vKwNWAmO3qCU012HrJBmpqpQ1OdWm-31yl1LFey8Q3Touding6TI5uHJhUzOqyIDqxDIC40EbiRIdUmc715JOBmrxX_3ig/s320/IMG_6307.JPG" /></a><br /><div>I'm trying to remember all that as these days go by. I'm trying to close the laptop more and get down on the floor and drive cars or build blocks (as physically difficult as that is now) more often. I'm trying to completely absorb him right now. Our lives changed dramatically when he came into our family, and they're about to change again. I'm so excited and scared and nervous and sad....all at the same time.</div><br /><br /><div>Major - I love you so much more than you can know. You are my first born, my sweet sweet Major, and I will always remember how special these first few years with you have been. I'm so excited to see you become a big brother, and I know that you will do an awesome job! I love you, baby boy!</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-48985236841537400632010-09-12T22:21:00.007-05:002010-09-13T22:03:57.379-05:00quick postWell, I really thought I would have posted about my big 27 month old by now, but I've been busy w/ other stuff.<br /><br /><br /><br />The Colonel and I escaped for our very first trip away w/o the boy this weekend. We've both been on trips ourselves, but this is the first time we BOTH left him at the same time. Everyone involved did great!! Mema and Papa had a blast playing w/ him, he loved all the attention, and Mommy and Daddy had a very relaxing time in Oklahoma City.<br /><br /><br />I got a great deal on Groupon for our hotel (LOVE that site!), we saw a movie (although it was the WORST movie I've seen in a long time - don't waste your time on The American!), and ate lots of good food. Oh, and took naps, read, watched TV and we were able to carry all of our stuff into the hotel in one trip. Ha!<br /><br /><br />SO, an update of my boy is still coming. In the meantime, here's a pic of the happy couple (complete w/ 31 week belly).<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQSdc4J1P6djavXXCnxemHby6XGYKoOoenRk0bnKq8gOQ_tAMQ-Bdbli52YPh1LI-9M5ZyUxnRY-OrV-RblrxQfxNOnNHjn4hFjV8-4WIqRjG35DP4TF19RO8CDsyAPjFKDiN4w/s1600/IMG_6544.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516235206523725234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQSdc4J1P6djavXXCnxemHby6XGYKoOoenRk0bnKq8gOQ_tAMQ-Bdbli52YPh1LI-9M5ZyUxnRY-OrV-RblrxQfxNOnNHjn4hFjV8-4WIqRjG35DP4TF19RO8CDsyAPjFKDiN4w/s320/IMG_6544.JPG" /></a><em> UPDATE: Oh, and apparently, I've been out of the workforce for too long, because my engineer mind can't even add anymore. My boy is 29 MONTHS old, not 27. Oi.</em>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-23457537349735671902010-09-07T13:57:00.003-05:002010-09-07T14:00:05.477-05:00coming soon...How did months and months go by w/o me even looking at my blog??? Well, my kiddo turned 27 months old this week, and it's high time I update about him. Unfortunately, I'm sitting in Panera with my new laptop (whee!), and I've got to get going to get to a doctor's appointment and then a haircut, so updating will have to wait. But, here's my promise. It will come SOON...and now that I've put it out there, I'll have to follow through, right?? Also coming is a belly shot....I can't believe I'm almost 31 weeks!! My ticker says 65 days....aahh!! It's really 59 days since I'll be having a scheduled c-section. Woah, better get busy!!<br /><br />See ya soon!Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-15039592856288185782010-06-28T21:27:00.004-05:002010-07-13T15:48:37.125-05:00Remembering the Good 'Ol Days<a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://familyrambling.com/">Jody's</a> <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://familyrambling.com/index.php/hp-photosmart-premium-printer/contest/">super fun giveaway</a> gave me a chance to remember my favorite vacation (so far). 4 years ago, before we moved to KS, before we even thought about Lil Major, before I started this blog, The Colonel and I took an amazing vacation to Ireland.<br /><br />We spent a full week sightseeing, celebrating my BFF's wedding, and acting like locals in Ireland. It was the best vacation we've ever had. The Colonel golfed on the links, I sipped mimosas and ate fruit and cheese. We had tea in the afternoons. We slept in a castle. We drove on the "wrong" side of the road. And I'm so ready to go back!<br /><br />Here's a picture of us at the Rock of Cashel. This was the first day that the sun came out...I think it was on day 3 or 4.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkzT60WkYb15VkfCHr3tdes9SjUA3APCaxOQu4y4_yyuB1FQSs5AoNaLoyXglnOtch7iV8tWuPfsJpVjJaESz_TjdF0oqKapN1me9EcMfmbJeGat0C9HO8srd4JQKSmMVdAMzeg/s1600/Ireland.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488019056193180306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkzT60WkYb15VkfCHr3tdes9SjUA3APCaxOQu4y4_yyuB1FQSs5AoNaLoyXglnOtch7iV8tWuPfsJpVjJaESz_TjdF0oqKapN1me9EcMfmbJeGat0C9HO8srd4JQKSmMVdAMzeg/s320/Ireland.jpg" /></a><br /><br />It's not my favorite picture of us on our trip, but it's a picture from my favorite trip. My camera broke right when we got to Ireland (figures!), so I had to rely on photos from others, and somehow I never kept digital copies of all of them. I DO have an amazing scrapbook from our trip that I will treasure always.Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-83313371349496750632010-06-05T21:27:00.002-05:002010-06-05T21:35:00.569-05:00Can you give up your coffee for one day??I've posted about <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://midwestgirlatheart.blogspot.com/2010/04/helping-kids.html">our friends who are working to adopt </a>two little boys from Eastern Europe. These two sweet boys both have Down's Syndrome, and they're in danger of being transferred to a mental institution for the rest of their short lives if my friend doesn't get there first to bring them home.<br /><br />At this point in their journey, they've submitted all their paperwork, and they're just waiting for the immigration services to tell them to travel and start the process in the boys' country. Of course, there are <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-dont-have-to-give-big.html">TONS of expenses</a> associated w/ traveling so far away... and they may have to stay for as long as a month. Not to mention that they have 9 other children who will need cared for while they're gone.<br /><br />If you can spare some change or give up your coffee for one day or skip that ice cream cone....it would be so awesome if you could donate just a bit to the Nance's. All the info about giving and praying and what comes next can be found <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-dont-have-to-give-big.html">here</a>.<br /><br />I'm so excited and can't wait to meet these little boys!Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-70718154230381467822010-06-02T22:18:00.002-05:002010-06-02T22:36:19.163-05:00Mama BirdA Mama Bird showed up at my house today. I have no idea where she came from, but she sure got a lot done. Yep, it was me. For the first time in a REALLY long time I was productive...all...day...long.<br /><br />I never had any nesting instincts when I was pregnant with Major. I wanted to be "ready" for his arrival, but I never had any sudden bursts of energy or major organizational urges. But, this time...wow...I feel the need to purge my house of all unnecessary CRAP (and there's a lot!) and clean things that have never been cleaned since we moved into this house.<br /><br />So, either the nesting bug found me or my decision to get my booty out of bed at 6am and enjoy some ME time on the deck with the paper and my coffee and a gorgeous morning got me motivated for my day. I didn't even realize how much I got done until I started thinking about it. Here's what got accomplished today:<br /><br />* coffee and paper on the deck<br />* two loads of laundry folded<br />* taught my class at the Y<br />* trip to the grocery store<br />* started organizing stuff for our garage sale<br />* went through all my scrapbooking stuff and pulled out a bunch to sell<br />* sorted through too small clothes in Major's room<br />* completely cleaned and dusted Major's room<br />* cooked dinner for my family<br />* vacuumed the main floor<br />* cleaned all the screens, windows and blinds in my family room (and if you've seen my house, you know it's ALL windows)<br />* worked an hour doing my internet job<br /><br />Whew...that's a lot for this girl! So now I'm sitting on the couch enjoying some So You Think You Can Dance. Yeah baby.Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-17978662851211880752010-05-15T20:07:00.002-05:002010-05-15T20:13:50.893-05:00My Sweet BoyAlthough I don't know if he exactly understands what it means, Major knows that there is a baby in Mommy's tummy. If you ask him where the baby is, he points to my tummy. And on more than on occasion I've had to remind my wild 2 year old that he has to be careful and not jump on Mommy or he'll hurt the baby. So, he knows that baby is in there.<br /><br />The other night we were rocking before bed, and I told him that I loved him. And then, my super sweet kiddo, totally unprovoked, said, "I love you, Baby," and leaned down and kissed my tummy. mush...that's what I turned into. And then I smothered my #1 baby in kisses.<br /><br />And then this morning we were watching 3 Men and a Baby on TV (it's been AGES since I've seen that movie), and Major was totally enthralled. He couldn't get enough of seeing the baby on TV. A little while later he turned to me, pointed at my belly, and said, "Baby, out!" Oh sweet boy. I had to tell him that baby needed to stay inside Mommy for a while longer. <br /><br />I hope he's still this excited and interested when the baby does arrive this fall! =)Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-43809222600462915212010-04-20T07:46:00.009-05:002010-04-20T08:40:14.110-05:00The big celebrationSince I'm so late in posting about my son's second birthday, I will go ahead and honor my very first niece for turning 12 today, and I will post about Major's birthday on Miss Kaylee's birthday.<br /><br />So, 15 days ago, Lil Major (who is not so little anymore), turned two. Because his birthday was the Monday after Easter, we partied ALL weekend long.<br /><br />Saturday was a little cool, but spring had FINALLY arrived. We took full advantage.<br /><br />It started w/ a small party w/ both sets of grandparents. We hunted for Easter eggs, ate yummy BBQ'd hamburgers, indulged in sugar cookies and cupcakes, and opened lots of presents. Poor Major had a terrible cold and wasn't feeling all that well, but we made the most of it. He got lots of snuggles from Mema and Grammy, so it was still a good day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkgJ5b-wcGHzjUJl1QcKxljakHNVgttnxjwmOo5zP-PLesSC_9YDPTBe5P3Cn8sslfMU1povphplyECFm5YC6M8l2ndSCmIIZklFJYRk3drvVKJNfndjVI5b7NEO2JSyNcxm39Q/s1600/IMG_5506.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkgJ5b-wcGHzjUJl1QcKxljakHNVgttnxjwmOo5zP-PLesSC_9YDPTBe5P3Cn8sslfMU1povphplyECFm5YC6M8l2ndSCmIIZklFJYRk3drvVKJNfndjVI5b7NEO2JSyNcxm39Q/s320/IMG_5506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462202530008532658" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbv3C1Gikr6Sj0A22M6D6alrAk-zsHkD6o9lRcQU5dXeJqrMJhb41bx_PLx7w2Ols0RO2JrXPKy4qhGLgK1JM9Bu75FGjD8spHcyEAHbM5BQ-tLbOhj3cSaXH8zaQ7Nof_veb__Q/s1600/IMG_5507.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbv3C1Gikr6Sj0A22M6D6alrAk-zsHkD6o9lRcQU5dXeJqrMJhb41bx_PLx7w2Ols0RO2JrXPKy4qhGLgK1JM9Bu75FGjD8spHcyEAHbM5BQ-tLbOhj3cSaXH8zaQ7Nof_veb__Q/s320/IMG_5507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462202535586449970" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXHCZqqdRayy9kew7V9JG2KCcp5EAN5cj2y0_ktCOwtX0NAPpI6n6d7qPeIAu9zXrHbGNBvMaMFLaPsd17hQgTrjlvv4_pGrAb7BXMsN1ln3e69OgOZ5E9X1rEcbrDi4sNNekBQ/s1600/IMG_5512.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXHCZqqdRayy9kew7V9JG2KCcp5EAN5cj2y0_ktCOwtX0NAPpI6n6d7qPeIAu9zXrHbGNBvMaMFLaPsd17hQgTrjlvv4_pGrAb7BXMsN1ln3e69OgOZ5E9X1rEcbrDi4sNNekBQ/s320/IMG_5512.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462202551024415330" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmMUPKPsIlRhoLiCYCdx1jYiFUZVQSfgBtTlwIiuFaEsyb2MnkFI_76mrw4aHhlLRQq0cl1RkvS3xEcUbz8wmQTNCNa5biCpQ60RM_LinDjpRmJYqtcDUpKL5OWSpbOB2e9EtJg/s1600/IMG_5517.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRmMUPKPsIlRhoLiCYCdx1jYiFUZVQSfgBtTlwIiuFaEsyb2MnkFI_76mrw4aHhlLRQq0cl1RkvS3xEcUbz8wmQTNCNa5biCpQ60RM_LinDjpRmJYqtcDUpKL5OWSpbOB2e9EtJg/s320/IMG_5517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462202559699734514" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1tFfMfiXDgaeh89IWa43fvhTPgayPfgeaM6pERsntK7fYSR5Ku5WPbBxQTnvC8NI-k6u_Ew1UaVJ_h3BsvPhpTKKgfcCLoIG5eA8TjVIHGwmNgQZ3EdwwLXJM5ffPi7n4iN7nw/s1600/IMG_5525.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1tFfMfiXDgaeh89IWa43fvhTPgayPfgeaM6pERsntK7fYSR5Ku5WPbBxQTnvC8NI-k6u_Ew1UaVJ_h3BsvPhpTKKgfcCLoIG5eA8TjVIHGwmNgQZ3EdwwLXJM5ffPi7n4iN7nw/s320/IMG_5525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462204544366937570" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreC1nuCAZqrkLmKUlUjKkAdNTWwAXd5dZUzlEcHpd7g6pMcWwWCXKkNanl2FWgKnVv6guIGTBJ-bLKnsvrkfeiWXMjeelQQfov7bPm0lgxzK5huPG5kNs1De9FMGmaWw_6R_xHw/s1600/IMG_5518.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreC1nuCAZqrkLmKUlUjKkAdNTWwAXd5dZUzlEcHpd7g6pMcWwWCXKkNanl2FWgKnVv6guIGTBJ-bLKnsvrkfeiWXMjeelQQfov7bPm0lgxzK5huPG5kNs1De9FMGmaWw_6R_xHw/s320/IMG_5518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462202570800719138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPA2-jFQ_pUosIhT_TDplrGCgPR-MeGL8TedenhcSteJ6S4A1QPy5plWvcCeLeane8ntPwuWyGI8XSreMojTErCotFXZ8_LXLZqllZi3-5wExZWgojFbbbBx_Od3SZNL6oQ3PeqQ/s1600/IMG_5529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPA2-jFQ_pUosIhT_TDplrGCgPR-MeGL8TedenhcSteJ6S4A1QPy5plWvcCeLeane8ntPwuWyGI8XSreMojTErCotFXZ8_LXLZqllZi3-5wExZWgojFbbbBx_Od3SZNL6oQ3PeqQ/s320/IMG_5529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462204549746501778" border="0" /></a><br />helping Papa put together his new bike...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23_4EbpUWOWlDm6ZQA3otYS0W-l8jLa_8qnyvOerW5zXoM32pCVa_Nej6VALoaAFNMFIuS7a1JuZWf5SS5V-q5UcD-TZxt22UOnOpg6ZRUXcz5DYueWMPxjpd-EKMhX2CgkG1nA/s1600/IMG_5534.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23_4EbpUWOWlDm6ZQA3otYS0W-l8jLa_8qnyvOerW5zXoM32pCVa_Nej6VALoaAFNMFIuS7a1JuZWf5SS5V-q5UcD-TZxt22UOnOpg6ZRUXcz5DYueWMPxjpd-EKMhX2CgkG1nA/s320/IMG_5534.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462204558380171650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xTP4bC_UaJVZrmlKEeUFA61VnZEJjJNI62Xj3bPGayfdZpJuwsMrHl1gM8He6B7XK9ZU2w1Z0a_T29X8r466yYLMwQyhO549-7tIBt-o81qzaNEXjqH5S-XnuV-tjFPaRO2Hwg/s1600/IMG_5538.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8xTP4bC_UaJVZrmlKEeUFA61VnZEJjJNI62Xj3bPGayfdZpJuwsMrHl1gM8He6B7XK9ZU2w1Z0a_T29X8r466yYLMwQyhO549-7tIBt-o81qzaNEXjqH5S-XnuV-tjFPaRO2Hwg/s320/IMG_5538.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462204573170933922" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorVWRyPN5A2GkZWw7pJaH6qa9RIRegkYSLOLCfpE75cBzdg0S59SnhjCrxe2w2JB_b2PZWrOaNrkp3nreaxTF1_5xGk7D9meaWKx052_lXiTepNIbLa8_fgSRBgqJIENON7GUfw/s1600/IMG_5539.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjorVWRyPN5A2GkZWw7pJaH6qa9RIRegkYSLOLCfpE75cBzdg0S59SnhjCrxe2w2JB_b2PZWrOaNrkp3nreaxTF1_5xGk7D9meaWKx052_lXiTepNIbLa8_fgSRBgqJIENON7GUfw/s320/IMG_5539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462204581200722002" border="0" /></a><br />My poor boy was too sick to go to church on Sunday, so Daddy and Major stayed home and rested while I went to church with Mema and Papa. But, he definitely wasn't too sick to open his Easter basket...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHlkjxHvqw6qkOPFRypWPE4AFZzBbS1UZFTZ4ADs3UAt1S3Ejki34WT3kWQlKMAF9ZSlgFlxBX-vyHZypT-hlmCnZ149s6FKlNH96x4RV5scSo3HDlh6ypHXfxrduyelr593KqQ/s1600/IMG_5545.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHlkjxHvqw6qkOPFRypWPE4AFZzBbS1UZFTZ4ADs3UAt1S3Ejki34WT3kWQlKMAF9ZSlgFlxBX-vyHZypT-hlmCnZ149s6FKlNH96x4RV5scSo3HDlh6ypHXfxrduyelr593KqQ/s320/IMG_5545.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462208312325250146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsmDHtTYIboiOngbyfeLsHgDy9bHwVS0Q8Z81uFI5qJraRmw-ONKx1qBbxc-8EFZg_rFh-GZFBiVbc9yyVfP1530PNhAxQyVemY2Lg4sS9fwXN9jrax6KP9_x_bBFnrC_i0W173g/s1600/IMG_5543.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsmDHtTYIboiOngbyfeLsHgDy9bHwVS0Q8Z81uFI5qJraRmw-ONKx1qBbxc-8EFZg_rFh-GZFBiVbc9yyVfP1530PNhAxQyVemY2Lg4sS9fwXN9jrax6KP9_x_bBFnrC_i0W173g/s320/IMG_5543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462208305961199554" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjygX74h-J5dr9hgCAdDB8O0kiflbb4JBiYd5xQYh0u8O26aDjO_jv1ZLk9nXeIxq6WXqkvdOZjiZgMGPRvTyrJ2vI29GQW5XUOG2uLtss6bLQtACX8_XEZ33mHBUMeipzDua5sYA/s1600/IMG_5548.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjygX74h-J5dr9hgCAdDB8O0kiflbb4JBiYd5xQYh0u8O26aDjO_jv1ZLk9nXeIxq6WXqkvdOZjiZgMGPRvTyrJ2vI29GQW5XUOG2uLtss6bLQtACX8_XEZ33mHBUMeipzDua5sYA/s320/IMG_5548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462208320912630386" border="0" /></a><br />And after a good nap, we headed outside for some golf lessons with Daddy and to ride the new bike.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWU9fiSZcxdZwmfWH6UFdCsNuyHuJj7ZAyJA8qzqikN3gmT6XssSNTTGVz0fz4iqBq5bSj86tiHLCwx5_dayF-W0OAOEX_1-wYR1Zluw_-zGzAIBjgE7MrXZMpzdGxRP178FnWw/s1600/IMG_5556.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWU9fiSZcxdZwmfWH6UFdCsNuyHuJj7ZAyJA8qzqikN3gmT6XssSNTTGVz0fz4iqBq5bSj86tiHLCwx5_dayF-W0OAOEX_1-wYR1Zluw_-zGzAIBjgE7MrXZMpzdGxRP178FnWw/s320/IMG_5556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462208330765363106" border="0" /></a><br />So, Monday was his actual birthday, and we were still partying! We met up with Aunt Jayme and the girls and with cousin Michele and her kiddos and her sister w/ her kiddos -- 4 moms, 9 kiddos, and 2 baking babies (more on that later) for some fun at the zoo. It was pretty windy, but we didn't let that stop us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgNuyJIGZoAoaOE_9qluSfgs9wTQFz0TfGBKIfBVklBptAhyphenhyphene1zwkPMH9OAtKR9WXZOl26iXKeeQSBWxkABofitDlaTC1vBVLE0hVfpyCJQmgqramu4q-5XYiRRpPqA5ihWH69yg/s1600/IMG_5572.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgNuyJIGZoAoaOE_9qluSfgs9wTQFz0TfGBKIfBVklBptAhyphenhyphene1zwkPMH9OAtKR9WXZOl26iXKeeQSBWxkABofitDlaTC1vBVLE0hVfpyCJQmgqramu4q-5XYiRRpPqA5ihWH69yg/s320/IMG_5572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462208352602965650" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-blBTOYLWSXJZY1mb_y3QR15jkjtOuVIoz_wVWRdQVUZF3s3R5MO3CNyYmghbFlkxL2YE7kg33VSRIJk3KtivOxZVNl3RPBi90NEY-WxmRG2sAqbUSbjAMjWYkEFPQFpIfd_WA/s1600/IMG_5562.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD-blBTOYLWSXJZY1mb_y3QR15jkjtOuVIoz_wVWRdQVUZF3s3R5MO3CNyYmghbFlkxL2YE7kg33VSRIJk3KtivOxZVNl3RPBi90NEY-WxmRG2sAqbUSbjAMjWYkEFPQFpIfd_WA/s320/IMG_5562.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462212224452799250" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpKAGJUXTS6-WML1pmwyFA8NRdt6ZsMxoQvOX9qAg7tiOVw__IW9dte9TVsvJQR0y_qFlcTb9mNg_G160LxzQyyd_JrrG7sHMd7vxKU60gFbGA4YZh3eBrgoBzXhkWlAVyPGN1w/s1600/IMG_5567.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUpKAGJUXTS6-WML1pmwyFA8NRdt6ZsMxoQvOX9qAg7tiOVw__IW9dte9TVsvJQR0y_qFlcTb9mNg_G160LxzQyyd_JrrG7sHMd7vxKU60gFbGA4YZh3eBrgoBzXhkWlAVyPGN1w/s320/IMG_5567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462212239222572914" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Z6ozlTaD-zriq7NuuXMswdEI_IHkecx9BHcimG7jNLWdT2Ovm8egMCrICq_1eHcSFZNiiVXCHxd2vWbcrHIMw83ElGQZE9tkmPlxwhBs4IxHlgGhWY6_8DNsLjIfP6-AApcSMw/s1600/IMG_5566.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Z6ozlTaD-zriq7NuuXMswdEI_IHkecx9BHcimG7jNLWdT2Ovm8egMCrICq_1eHcSFZNiiVXCHxd2vWbcrHIMw83ElGQZE9tkmPlxwhBs4IxHlgGhWY6_8DNsLjIfP6-AApcSMw/s320/IMG_5566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462212248026598178" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXazxDKGeIPzdlfPXSj7FCFOGiuo6F53YbSb9aiv2RjqcnQibBLLTT1UUul0MNs1bRqgwYbGXMNICb61-FOAtGzPWhKvHvqjeeG5BDXtiMgfmfMkYxC5C0X4oVqM3TKyve_iavqw/s1600/IMG_5573.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXazxDKGeIPzdlfPXSj7FCFOGiuo6F53YbSb9aiv2RjqcnQibBLLTT1UUul0MNs1bRqgwYbGXMNICb61-FOAtGzPWhKvHvqjeeG5BDXtiMgfmfMkYxC5C0X4oVqM3TKyve_iavqw/s320/IMG_5573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462212256108758210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And it wouldn't be a birthday without a trip to Freddy's for burgers, fries and frozen custard. Yum yum!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlgLcJ6BqkS40yNSf1EJEqGE2LVXqSFcrERpXUUO2otJwAOp18gOBdPFIyk4BOx7EenoqoJFp3bLD6gSBi1SQTgrvcEsWv6iH0XQBI67TL1QjyNRUf-93dDZlWWSP606eeJfKaw/s1600/IMG_5575.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlgLcJ6BqkS40yNSf1EJEqGE2LVXqSFcrERpXUUO2otJwAOp18gOBdPFIyk4BOx7EenoqoJFp3bLD6gSBi1SQTgrvcEsWv6iH0XQBI67TL1QjyNRUf-93dDZlWWSP606eeJfKaw/s320/IMG_5575.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462212265475373170" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />My little bambino turned two! He's the most amazing kid, if I do say so myself. He learns something new every single minute, I swear! He is talking so much, making sentences and putting thoughts together. He loves to read and watch Cars and drive trucks and play trains. He told us "love you" for the first time recently, and he just melted my heart. He says thank you when you give him something, and if something is confusing or unexpected, he says, "oh dear." He waits excitedly for Daddy to come home each night, and he grabs your hand and says, "walk with me" when he wants to show you something. <br /><br />Oh, he is such a joy, and we love him so much...and come this November 11, Veteran's Day, our 10th anniversary, he'll have a little brother or sister for us to love just as much!<br /><br />Happy 2nd Birthday, big brother Major!Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-50666135925336985652010-04-10T07:48:00.005-05:002010-04-10T08:23:23.708-05:00Helping KidsIn the last several weeks, there have been 3 deaths in Wichita that have just devastated me. They were all children - all under the age of 19 months.<br /><br />The boyfriends of the mom in two of the cases (men who are NOT the childrens' father) are accused of MURDERING them...abusing them, hurting them, and ultimately killing them. Both moms are 20 and have multiple children by different men. They left their precious charges in the "care" of monsters. One of the kids (19 months) was abused so severely that the medical team said they'd never seen anything like it. His fingernails were pulled out, his leg was broken and was deformed, he had sores in his mouth from being stabbed with a fork, his collar bone was broken -- there was not an inch on his body that hadn't been severely injured.<br /><br />To make all of this worse, in both of these cases, neighbors and/or family members had reported to the authorities suspicion of abuse. In both cases, the authorities decided that no further action was required and the report didn't suggest abuse. Now, both kids are dead. The third case is still under investigation - the child was a newborn.<br /><br />On one hand, I'm almost glad the children are safe and secure in our Father's arms...they can't be hurt anymore. But, seriously, why did this have to happen???<br /><br />I have a good friend here in Wichita who is working feverishly to adopt two children from Eastern Europe. These two boys (Alec and Zhenya) are about to be transferred to a mental institution, and if Stephanie can't raise the money and finish the paperwork by then, it will be too late. These precious boys will spend the rest of their (short) lives strapped to a bed, with no stimulation or opportunities for learning or physical contact.<br /><br />They deserve so much better than that!! See, the reason they'll be transferred from the orphanage to the institution is because they have Down's Syndrome. Most of them have living parents, but these parents chose not to keep them because of their disability. Stephanie loves these children so much! Her youngest son has DS, and it's given her a love and a heart for these kids. I'm amazed daily at her passion and strength! These two boys in Eastern Europe need her and her family! Here's another tidbit about Steph. She has 9 children of her own...yet, she still is willing to open up her heart and her home to bring these boys HOME. Amazing!!<br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/">Steph</a> has a blog where she writes about their adoption journey. One of my favorite posts is <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/2010/03/adoption-is-redemption.html">this one</a> where she writes about another family's adoption journey and the impact it had on her. And I can't find the link right now, but she has a friend who just came home from starting the process in Europe to adopt some children, and her report of the conditions was horrific. The children (4 and younger probably) were inside a large playpen where they were TIED to the walls, so they couldn't move. These kids who are 3 or 4 weigh 20-25 pounds, they can not walk, they can not speak, some of them can not even sit up. They need our help and love and rescue!<br /><br />As you can imagine, an endeavor like this is very very costly, and it's also time sensitive (the boys will be transferred this summer, at the latest). Steph is hosting a<a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/2010/03/getting-ready-for-giveaway-must-raise.html"> giveaway for a quilt</a> that she made if you donate to their adoption fund. You can donate on her blog <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/">here</a>.<br /><br />If you can spare a few dollars, please consider helping her out. I love that I can be a part of the amazing thing that her family is doing by adopting these kids -- just by giving and praying and supporting her. I'm so excited to get to know these boys and watch them interact with their brothers and sisters and learn about our God. I don't know if adoption will ever be what God has in mind for our family, but I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">absolutely</span> sure that God wants me to support Steph in her journey to adoption. <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://psalmsixtyeight.blogspot.com/">Can you help, too??</a>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-23474395972182620992010-04-08T19:16:00.002-05:002010-04-08T19:20:06.512-05:00This Morning...This morning when I went in to get my TWO YEAR OLD (yes, he turned two while I've been absent from my blog...pics to come soon) up for the day, I saw the sweetest, cutest, melt-your-heart sight.<br /><br />He was sitting up with his stuffed giraffe in his arms, and he was showering Giraffe with kisses. Then he picked up Bear and covered him in kisses. Then he told me, "blankie kisses," and he covered his favorite blankie (made by Marge) in kisses. <br /><br />And mama swooned. My boy. So sweet. Adorable. And such a lover. Please, Major, stay like this forever.Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-53211476354984614392010-03-01T07:42:00.005-06:002010-03-01T08:17:16.902-06:00March 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KI4v8s9NgGOQN-8BYEPytFMxhMzsJaKocK1htBtZgnyYdLgIGN1nBtF1sQxU7U0q9IdWQX0VUFa31AYq9SDSKvNn6TafmEDXiHyQnzX-4PI8NRNVD7KTY1PSx15ZAIo8d5YScg/s1600-h/IMG_5056.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8KI4v8s9NgGOQN-8BYEPytFMxhMzsJaKocK1htBtZgnyYdLgIGN1nBtF1sQxU7U0q9IdWQX0VUFa31AYq9SDSKvNn6TafmEDXiHyQnzX-4PI8NRNVD7KTY1PSx15ZAIo8d5YScg/s320/IMG_5056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443666307680573458" border="0" /></a><br />Who knew that time goes in warp speed after you have kids?? My boy is going to be 23 months old this week, and then in a month, he'll be 2. Wow! Actually, he already seems like he's two to me (we've even seen a couple temper tantrums already), and I've called him 2 a couple times.<br /><br />He's still such a joy. He learns so quickly, and it's so fun to watch his little personality emerge. He loves cars and trucks and trains and airplanes (I think I see a transportation themed bday party in my near future), and he also loves ALL sports...but mostly ba-ket-ball. He can spot a basketball hoop from a mile away. He also loves to pray, and it just melts my heart every time I see it. He bows his little head, mumbles his prayer, and then pumps his fist in the air and shouts A-MEN!! <span style="font-style: italic;">(the prayer is at the end of the video...first he has to play w/ daddy's elbow)</span><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzUevxPUHnBr3-r1IRDTnS_4OcaTHTnHDG9lijsrZCad--pX8QfPAV3IERyUVn3mVtxiC0i21ZE1_U' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />We've been spending several hours each week at the YMCA, where he LOVES to play in the Kid Zone. I kept him out of there for a long time, but it was due to my own fears, not his. Now we both love it! Actually, I think we both NEED it! =)<br /><br />I'm done w/ my one of my part time jobs - the one that was most stressful. Now, I just have 3 part time jobs that I'm doing. Ha! I'm doing some internet research (from home, in my jammies!), I'm still teaching classes at the Y, and I'm subbing in the schools. I had my first assignment last week. It went fairly well, although the 7th graders just about did me in...and I sent one of them to the office. I have two days of high school girls PE this week - pray for me!<br /><br />Here are some of the activities that happen when Daddy plays hooky from work (not really, he took a vacation day so I could work)...we LOVE it when Daddy is home!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6KWgXoozSbsK9byibYYsdfpHuxYvoSZ0Qp9ZRbGvl6WNvk2mK0Ad4XwRi69cUUaDjIIE8i7AxzobWE11sPppQZab6cP-Ly8sgsgzMh1pcXGVfkZtFwPpSgMSdRkwsrh9sBo-fg/s1600-h/IMG_5077.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6KWgXoozSbsK9byibYYsdfpHuxYvoSZ0Qp9ZRbGvl6WNvk2mK0Ad4XwRi69cUUaDjIIE8i7AxzobWE11sPppQZab6cP-Ly8sgsgzMh1pcXGVfkZtFwPpSgMSdRkwsrh9sBo-fg/s320/IMG_5077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443666321049805138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEleNJ8dQ_HiFDFBTPRmsY4mLYExwniYE04NgDaVapdyne-iBPCxn-QH5n5BwKZN1LdFtShjH5iPzxnpYdQVRuOICyVNBBoJFkA3DxXjSAFiDMTP9Vzo2R75E2tU-951saGVImgQ/s1600-h/IMG_5072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEleNJ8dQ_HiFDFBTPRmsY4mLYExwniYE04NgDaVapdyne-iBPCxn-QH5n5BwKZN1LdFtShjH5iPzxnpYdQVRuOICyVNBBoJFkA3DxXjSAFiDMTP9Vzo2R75E2tU-951saGVImgQ/s320/IMG_5072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443666312322256770" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRi3l7cHkvE8_PGC-FEKRMA3M-GefrCPrpc38Bh1f8XzgE2pWMMSJ5S-48d_nZZgBGojuaHBivyLOKt8iEM-1rm8-D7w6ri5CaGXt6NhbRIuCtEr30fItF5giRbN8UhpEwOrTLKg/s1600-h/IMG_5096.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRi3l7cHkvE8_PGC-FEKRMA3M-GefrCPrpc38Bh1f8XzgE2pWMMSJ5S-48d_nZZgBGojuaHBivyLOKt8iEM-1rm8-D7w6ri5CaGXt6NhbRIuCtEr30fItF5giRbN8UhpEwOrTLKg/s320/IMG_5096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443666340799686962" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlINh5-Blbucry69-O19U3cmP4tu18gjsQdYxBSNi3uXLSBhyphenhypheno5_8I8R-criy74Tt_R8uHhq60SowHOQMVdYTGoYCMgp7z16n2nBl_DPYAyUtyybAgy0q3wPfOomHS7-p5D8YrKA/s1600-h/IMG_5094.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlINh5-Blbucry69-O19U3cmP4tu18gjsQdYxBSNi3uXLSBhyphenhypheno5_8I8R-criy74Tt_R8uHhq60SowHOQMVdYTGoYCMgp7z16n2nBl_DPYAyUtyybAgy0q3wPfOomHS7-p5D8YrKA/s320/IMG_5094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443666329797819218" border="0" /></a>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-28155126648892998922010-01-31T22:29:00.006-06:002010-01-31T22:55:43.711-06:00So MUCHWow! Three posts in the same month (just barely!). When was the last time that happened??<br /><br />So much is going on, so much has happened...I've had productive days and days that I just look at the pile on my dining room table and want to scream and pull my hair out. I've figured out that I'm one of those Type A personalities (that's not the surprise) who wants everything to be perfect, so I just keep putting things off b/c I don't have time to see them to completion RIGHT NOW. Thus, the mess on my dining room table, in my office, in my closet, in my bathroom cabinets. Grr. I hate this.<br /><br />I AM determined to get organized, though. We are trying to do some rearranging in the basement, and this will require me to get rid of A LOT of stuff and organize A LOT of stuff. I started w/ a couple boxes of stuff that I've been toting around since elementary school and high school - no lie. I found notes I wrote in junior high, papers and cards I wrote to my grandma when I was a kid, pep rally Mums from high school, sheet music from marching band. Oh boy!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQWOUnLueDAHw2aBSvclCX35k_NJG380mtRVtg-1Zn2_r2mRsaMJaKjT6jbpmnGt5OnAqb7iByJOwps6ixkH8PvuwAzjvkFHx1aoNEgLc_Xd8SPg-zIT9OLk8G_m-I55Ycu9O0g/s1600-h/IMG_4932.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQWOUnLueDAHw2aBSvclCX35k_NJG380mtRVtg-1Zn2_r2mRsaMJaKjT6jbpmnGt5OnAqb7iByJOwps6ixkH8PvuwAzjvkFHx1aoNEgLc_Xd8SPg-zIT9OLk8G_m-I55Ycu9O0g/s320/IMG_4932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433131339716588850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQDewAdrncZivaYWAC6JZlcJmTgMjbhS_pA5W1fSdbuJH1-na7HOYOJ4qaE96sqxhse8hVpK0bx8zcypFciqsvI0xnyj5UVqLR5cjqiTOF4EW4KFCCzgh13zK2znkhYmLifRyGw/s1600-h/IMG_4930.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQDewAdrncZivaYWAC6JZlcJmTgMjbhS_pA5W1fSdbuJH1-na7HOYOJ4qaE96sqxhse8hVpK0bx8zcypFciqsvI0xnyj5UVqLR5cjqiTOF4EW4KFCCzgh13zK2znkhYmLifRyGw/s320/IMG_4930.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433131329148703506" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I went ahead and spent some time looking through all of it again, and decided it would be the LAST time I looked through it all b/c then I trashed it. There's just no reason to read AGAIN about who was mad at who in seventh grade.<br /><br />I also organized all my scrapbooking stuff. I'm THIS close to selling all of it...but then...what if I want to pick it back up again? What if I want to start making cards? Well, at least it's organized for now.<br /><br />My office if full of junk, and I want to turn it back into a storage room - it's intended purpose - and move the office out to the main room of the basement, where I'll be forced to keep it organized or be REALLY embarrassed.<br /><br />So, with all of the reorganizing going on, I still have everything else. I've put in my notice at my super time-consuming, bothersome job, and I'm fully certified to sub teach in the schools. I was supposed to complete my first assignment on Friday, but we had a snow day. And I'm glad. I was exhausted.<br /><br />Last week was made up of driving back and forth all over the state of Kansas (or so it seemed) taking my MIL to the hospital and back to visit my FIL (he's well and home now), and taking the boy to the babysitter, going to teach at the Y, driving across town for meetings, and trying to get all my errands done before the snow hit on Friday.<br /><br />I also found time to take a meal to a friend who's on bed rest, make a thousand calls to my sister and mom to see how Sis was doing w/ some VERY early contractions, go to my Mom's group, attend a slumber party w/ our Mom's group leadership team, play in the snow w/ my son, and take our annual family outing to the train show. Whew. I'm glad it's all over.<br /><br />Now it's time to start another week. Pray that I can be productive and not get sucked into FB and blogs and stinkin' bejeweled blitz. I need a week to get some other stuff done!!<br /><br />And since you so patiently listened to my rant and complain, here are some pictures from around our house lately.<br /><br />Mema's glasses...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTAGfCN9QZLvDoVHHyz3DAXzwBGlItI9xE1Cv8Qw31rmcSBfY6dfMvj4nFju8IKlricV0wSa1JB5XU345vxAQ-n_MaqGpymYfsih_yGgp3QMiGMzVede-oCH28oT4FHS6GH3SJvQ/s1600-h/P1010170.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTAGfCN9QZLvDoVHHyz3DAXzwBGlItI9xE1Cv8Qw31rmcSBfY6dfMvj4nFju8IKlricV0wSa1JB5XU345vxAQ-n_MaqGpymYfsih_yGgp3QMiGMzVede-oCH28oT4FHS6GH3SJvQ/s320/P1010170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433132627398228354" border="0" /></a><br />Reading the paper w/ Daddy...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lJegtva3qAkLg5xqKvwlLJRB2DiTBU7vCogH-4WoNNBlAT8ZjLPiORcpuIU-pfPJ1NivzSq1uNTyIR-SqlsI1kmW84pOzgTChXNkkYDVJ0czYB7M0Pob14fQa3ExRhjaLLPXnQ/s1600-h/IMG_4908.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lJegtva3qAkLg5xqKvwlLJRB2DiTBU7vCogH-4WoNNBlAT8ZjLPiORcpuIU-pfPJ1NivzSq1uNTyIR-SqlsI1kmW84pOzgTChXNkkYDVJ0czYB7M0Pob14fQa3ExRhjaLLPXnQ/s320/IMG_4908.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433131317527967218" border="0" /></a><br />Heading out to play in the snow...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7fJmWfKAqM8gRCtmfS4aMANhfGlV3xP5GEC5SdlQNTdCCiomoawTpxAWM4BvnuiZIJFPFBtIZb0z36x7bOsH5u6XWoN9Pmnl7i1yc3Bm1gpd-YNNMz8NPAC3sCPGuI_MuaL62Q/s1600-h/IMG_4947.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7fJmWfKAqM8gRCtmfS4aMANhfGlV3xP5GEC5SdlQNTdCCiomoawTpxAWM4BvnuiZIJFPFBtIZb0z36x7bOsH5u6XWoN9Pmnl7i1yc3Bm1gpd-YNNMz8NPAC3sCPGuI_MuaL62Q/s320/IMG_4947.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433131342822563218" border="0" /></a><br />Mommy's helper...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9Q31GKIvO8LVvHA9V4250xJuDhwXDuk117mwWh099ToZPVwDpC72sRO9VnPjR1RbzIxypOcHC1RWcIFZdkPAOyR-7pDXQaae_YE3qeW9vbmFOaU0LNK_CntsukZkaRTDohHn6w/s1600-h/IMG_4957.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht9Q31GKIvO8LVvHA9V4250xJuDhwXDuk117mwWh099ToZPVwDpC72sRO9VnPjR1RbzIxypOcHC1RWcIFZdkPAOyR-7pDXQaae_YE3qeW9vbmFOaU0LNK_CntsukZkaRTDohHn6w/s320/IMG_4957.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433131350576797586" border="0" /></a><br />His first snow angel, perhaps??<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyU4CY3YPzD9dlIYkG4bP0UlLbCYSFxPJhmsBzTzGvWk9FFM9H2i3SHgjKT2BWTLyGkOtevqSRdtHjbYuuXShIY9ag2foVRZgLrml367Gck3vCK6EneLGAWGidURifB2tLk9xS0w/s1600-h/IMG_4971.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyU4CY3YPzD9dlIYkG4bP0UlLbCYSFxPJhmsBzTzGvWk9FFM9H2i3SHgjKT2BWTLyGkOtevqSRdtHjbYuuXShIY9ag2foVRZgLrml367Gck3vCK6EneLGAWGidURifB2tLk9xS0w/s320/IMG_4971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433132622922038290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />My sweet sweet sweet boy...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi836Lwja3wuknBj4BtmVBcuSizjhx_iMS4cBiSbGbBl3lmaNp1SiJcGMiwBQ91A0qgUEBmU_0eCSWj-XAyXFD1C7OpYvYGJzxng3eSsgcbZImhyqdy_lsnFnKVQPf4bX26m9EPmg/s1600-h/IMG_4966.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi836Lwja3wuknBj4BtmVBcuSizjhx_iMS4cBiSbGbBl3lmaNp1SiJcGMiwBQ91A0qgUEBmU_0eCSWj-XAyXFD1C7OpYvYGJzxng3eSsgcbZImhyqdy_lsnFnKVQPf4bX26m9EPmg/s320/IMG_4966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433132619419543810" border="0" /></a>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-47078617909568043452010-01-08T17:55:00.003-06:002010-01-08T18:08:11.604-06:00Not a Mama PostWow, I think that this might be one of the first posts since Lil Major was born that is NOT about being a Mama...but then again, it kinda is in a way.<br /><br />After I had my little bundle of joy in my arms, I knew there was no way I'd be able to leave him and go back to work full time. So, I found a part time job. It was the best arrangement I could have asked for. I worked 24 hours a week, 3 days a week, and my mom watched my kiddo. Great, right?? Yeah, it was, until the economy tanked and I lost my job.<br /><br />Ok, move on. So, I did. I found another part time job. At first, this seemed like an even better deal (aside from the 65% cut in pay). It was only 10 hours/week (or so I was TOLD), I could work whenever I wanted, and some of it I could do from home.<br /><br />What I DIDN'T know at the time was that I would NEVER work just 10 hours/week, my cell phone minutes (that I paid for, not the company) would shoot through the roof, and I would work 7 days/week. But, still, it was part time...averaging about 18 hours/week.<br /><br />So, here's the rub. I didn't know how easy I had it working full time. I went to work for 40 hours each and every week. I played on the internet, I paid my bills, I made my doctor's appointments...all during my 40 hours. Which meant that when I got home in the evenings, I could do whatever I wanted to.<br /><br />Working 3 days/week at my first part time job, I never once got on the internet, I paid no bills, I made no personal phone calls. I had work to do! Work that had to be done in just 24 hours/week! No biggie. I still had a couple other days of the week to myself.<br /><br />At THIS job, I work harder than I've ever worked at any job. I get paid the least of any job I've ever had. I work more days/week than any other job I've ever worked. I do have a pretty decent boss who backs me up, but I also have a "dotted line" to corporate, which is not fun at all.<br /><br />Let's sum it up: I make 65% less, I work 65% more, I have 65% more stress, and I get 0% of household stuff done while I work. <br /><br />I get it though. I am paid by the hour, and I only have a few hours to be, physically, at my place of business, or on my computer at home, so I have to make the absolute most of the time I have. Which means no fooling around. <br /><br />I don't have any idea why I thought I would work less by having a part time job. Aarrrgghhh!!<br /><br />Don't worry -- plans are in motion for yet ANOTHER part time job which will require less headaches in some ways and WAY more in another way. I'm trying to substitute teach. No extended days. I can say YES or NO to an assignment. No taking work home with me. AND, I can make the same $$/month by working 6 days/month instead of every day/month!<br /><br />I'll let you know how it goes.Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-68025321799234676332010-01-05T20:25:00.004-06:002010-01-05T20:53:02.908-06:0021 months<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI_ox8ZM5ExT9usK5vYLV2mxoIfWRrO958kI51LE9Y8jMSKU2I86PJsxvFiJFEaa-VWPS0rk6U0ORDb7CZe4dqYo3B9N2NDcpQMzFGu1WUPhzl8QaKGazjT8L4e2ZcSx5MZI4hw/s1600-h/IMG_4822.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI_ox8ZM5ExT9usK5vYLV2mxoIfWRrO958kI51LE9Y8jMSKU2I86PJsxvFiJFEaa-VWPS0rk6U0ORDb7CZe4dqYo3B9N2NDcpQMzFGu1WUPhzl8QaKGazjT8L4e2ZcSx5MZI4hw/s320/IMG_4822.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423451893283575970" border="0" /></a><br />I can't believe it's been a whole month since I last posted. I guess it was a pretty busy month, but still. Time goes by so fast these days.<br /><br />My boy is 21 months old today! He is amazing, he's the smartest kid out there (we all say that about our kids, right??). =) Well, at least his Mama is proud of him.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSPEGXN0ur113I-ZCXfsnYlnVTU5Kc4pvGkb2BHFqliYawlxMucZqx6zv2AFNR0OzTJMWk8wTR4XVbY_1g67i7IuMIXko9fTqnj_cPP3ehjkG4hQIkLUhqY0tvrXmvZj7EC7iDmg/s1600-h/IMG_4712.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSPEGXN0ur113I-ZCXfsnYlnVTU5Kc4pvGkb2BHFqliYawlxMucZqx6zv2AFNR0OzTJMWk8wTR4XVbY_1g67i7IuMIXko9fTqnj_cPP3ehjkG4hQIkLUhqY0tvrXmvZj7EC7iDmg/s320/IMG_4712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423452909220838290" border="0" /></a><br /><br />His vocabulary has grown and grown this month - he's starting to repeat words when we say them (uh oh - better watch out now!), and every day I hear something new from him. I can't even remember all the words, but here are some of them: wa-wa (water), bounce, choo choo (complete w/ the arm motion for the horn), tra truck (trash truck), shoe, sock, elbow, knee, lap, and NO. I'm not so crazy about that last one, but I guess it had to show up sometime. I still haven't heard YES out of him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQJ_3AUol3krHz1Lpae_HmAgGfru4bLvYW-X74sJJkJtxpfVxiy0v9gMtiLbQoYayKF_7EFbnkhfL1LiNO3TxQEeto66p0Q4m-mftthyHJYDcSoAvxjyldcETeKHf2Fq0jhyMlQ/s1600-h/IMG_4749.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQJ_3AUol3krHz1Lpae_HmAgGfru4bLvYW-X74sJJkJtxpfVxiy0v9gMtiLbQoYayKF_7EFbnkhfL1LiNO3TxQEeto66p0Q4m-mftthyHJYDcSoAvxjyldcETeKHf2Fq0jhyMlQ/s320/IMG_4749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423452901856676514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />He has some favorite activities and most of them have to do with Christmas gifts. He got a train table and a basketball hoop that are very popular around here. I'm trying to push the boy towards b-ball rather than football -- just call it a paranoid mama. He still loves to read books, but now he comes to you with a book and asks to sit in your lap to read it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFY_q-aBVTV4y6fTSybcznwtvpKZCK0kMUj6WH_ZmQUf0wQJhp7p2awk1F6HVHc2YZCzWtp0Ko7RGdl4KsiJGEo1og7uUKCQo6y0A1NnlDO2JJA5n7JeBGiex2ciNYky9NvApWQ/s1600-h/IMG_4787.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFY_q-aBVTV4y6fTSybcznwtvpKZCK0kMUj6WH_ZmQUf0wQJhp7p2awk1F6HVHc2YZCzWtp0Ko7RGdl4KsiJGEo1og7uUKCQo6y0A1NnlDO2JJA5n7JeBGiex2ciNYky9NvApWQ/s320/IMG_4787.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423451879489121202" border="0" /></a><br /><br />He loves to put on his Daddy's shoes and belts. It's hilarious to watch him try to walk around the house w/ a big belt wrapped around him twice, and humongous shoes on his feet. I should just keep my camera attached to my body at all times to capture all of this. Here's my best try.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgceTF17fhRs6r-FpH_k01nYjAmjqfvp0RLdb8WabJn6xu8prahIlRCLTLhcRTueqcm3M8j1VTHdBjfsLdr46X9xBekEIGUaub2PL8bHDTZ_T8X-5Q5gafFcIHS-1GzDnA4eO7mtA/s1600-h/IMG_4730.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgceTF17fhRs6r-FpH_k01nYjAmjqfvp0RLdb8WabJn6xu8prahIlRCLTLhcRTueqcm3M8j1VTHdBjfsLdr46X9xBekEIGUaub2PL8bHDTZ_T8X-5Q5gafFcIHS-1GzDnA4eO7mtA/s320/IMG_4730.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423452917377709010" border="0" /></a><br /><br />When we rock together at the end of the day, he puts his head on my shoulder, and I ask him for a kiss. That little booger lifts his head, puckers up, leans in towards Mom, and then turns his head really quickly and says NO in the cutest little voice you've ever heard. Then he turns his head back and puckers up so I can kiss him. Oh, it's one of my very favorite things.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBc1GYjC99yY7P5LShxnmtFW2pUoEfcBrDf2PbVQ7jfEjH6JofsRaOR4YWLVZOU6OhleIinh9Ue7Q4bqF3exJuIwFzR54mK27Cx5DHhT7f5UGyb_fljC1bKPeKDPhGHV1FUiYzdg/s1600-h/IMG_4813.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBc1GYjC99yY7P5LShxnmtFW2pUoEfcBrDf2PbVQ7jfEjH6JofsRaOR4YWLVZOU6OhleIinh9Ue7Q4bqF3exJuIwFzR54mK27Cx5DHhT7f5UGyb_fljC1bKPeKDPhGHV1FUiYzdg/s320/IMG_4813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423451885437154690" border="0" /></a><br /><br />He is getting taller...he can reach to the next highest drawer and further onto the kitchen counter and table. I have to be extra careful that breakable and dangerous things are FAR out of his reach.<br /><br />My kiddo has been sick for the last 3 weeks. It started out as a runny nose and a cough when he woke up. It was just annoying at first...but then, the symptoms continued, and then his runny nose started producing green nastiness and then his cough got worse, and then he got a fever. Finally, I called the doctor, and they had us come in. They said he was starting to get a double ear infection and his sinuses were all messed up, so we left w/ a script for antibiotics. And while we were there, they gave him his 2nd H1N1 vaccine, and wouldn't you know it, but my tough boy didn't even CRY when he got poked?? He's way tougher than his dad and mom!<br /><br />I'm praying for healing, because we're getting tired of being stuck in the house. Well, I've still had to leave to work, but he hasn't been out much in the last week, especially. Not that we want to go anywhere, it's supposed to be a high of 9 for the rest of the week!!!<br /><br />We had a wonderful Christmas, filled with lots of food and laughter and games and gifts and family, and a little bit of snow. It was so fun to see Major's face as he walked out and saw his gifts and the lights...what a blessing to have him in our lives!Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-46799667633168264292009-12-06T21:31:00.004-06:002009-12-06T21:55:24.854-06:0020 months!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonQ5dDMhhyDT7ac9X89m0MrOqcHmjC6J9C6ZmSwXEw2Krc-tfFcRoeDDvqdR1vdX2eHhsH7yS1GMr1-OoT-f4FN6PUjnuu2Cc3o_vxWFGuQS80A6u8YO9YltE7ijIuGaD_AIQrQ/s1600-h/IMG_4589.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonQ5dDMhhyDT7ac9X89m0MrOqcHmjC6J9C6ZmSwXEw2Krc-tfFcRoeDDvqdR1vdX2eHhsH7yS1GMr1-OoT-f4FN6PUjnuu2Cc3o_vxWFGuQS80A6u8YO9YltE7ijIuGaD_AIQrQ/s320/IMG_4589.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412336301433980834" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My boy turned 20 months old yesterday. Where does the time go?? It seems like just yesterday my mom was telling me that once he hit 4 months, he'd start sleeping better...and I thought, <span style="font-style: italic;">are you kidding me?? 4 months is forever away! </span>And here we are...20 months!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoAtrAqTF8l8MbBPFbc94jZ_uYsEIlqtovztUu-Ecr4GnZzZMP3KZTypphHxK6kbVzGOAxtzo5ZyzabkTGjxyFr6E3hXNwyygGVRA1KgezEKYsCWufzu87sVo_ox1GagsxxafoA/s1600-h/IMG_4530.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoAtrAqTF8l8MbBPFbc94jZ_uYsEIlqtovztUu-Ecr4GnZzZMP3KZTypphHxK6kbVzGOAxtzo5ZyzabkTGjxyFr6E3hXNwyygGVRA1KgezEKYsCWufzu87sVo_ox1GagsxxafoA/s320/IMG_4530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412336280849918402" border="0" /></a><br />He's growing and learning and so fun and SOOOOO cute, if I do say so myself.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho40mwDACGZzrVcMJxrVXEH-88Mkx_t-cdra0lenScrq6w4iSNCpioNQx41Uqs4rF5orKbL2OlqTS0WQXoJU98wwE9nGDXxril0LIKKJhlgTYs9r9ISJ4nmo7gpMPXPJ9jY0j6EQ/s1600-h/IMG_4572.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho40mwDACGZzrVcMJxrVXEH-88Mkx_t-cdra0lenScrq6w4iSNCpioNQx41Uqs4rF5orKbL2OlqTS0WQXoJU98wwE9nGDXxril0LIKKJhlgTYs9r9ISJ4nmo7gpMPXPJ9jY0j6EQ/s320/IMG_4572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412337825073675074" border="0" /></a><br />His vocabulary changes every day, and I'm convinced that it grew by leaps and bounds during the 5 days we spent w/ cousin Captain. Some of Major's latest words are: cracker, milk, water, marshmallow (do you see a trend here??), duck (it had been just the quack sound for duck, now it's very distinctly DUCK), goose, moon, balloon...and I'm pretty sure he said, "where go Mama?" the other day.<br /><br />I'm so proud!<br /><br />He smiles and giggles and laughs no less than a thousand times a day. He loves to snuggle w/ his mama, and when he's tired he grabs my arm, and he wraps himself all around me. When he wakes up, he grabs everything out of his crib to take with us to the living room. And then he has to make sure we turn everything off and shut all the doors we pass on the way out. He LOVES music and loves to dance. Any kind of music and this kid starts bouncing to the tempo. And when a song finishes, or a dance ends, he's the first to start clapping and shouting "Yay, Yay!"<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZB-0KQflwQyzv5Qy96bjxk2LA2OScvpNFD98YanTuGdXR24NEQ-77N_Mmxhinqe9mxK0NZgAeO5HWzarUaEAweBWMdmIz-0jy1mtVm7LtfZlxoMYQnt4DvEO2kN_t5P_5wuMhQ/s1600-h/IMG_4682.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZB-0KQflwQyzv5Qy96bjxk2LA2OScvpNFD98YanTuGdXR24NEQ-77N_Mmxhinqe9mxK0NZgAeO5HWzarUaEAweBWMdmIz-0jy1mtVm7LtfZlxoMYQnt4DvEO2kN_t5P_5wuMhQ/s320/IMG_4682.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412336310751091810" border="0" /></a><br />Some of his favorite phrases that he says...that we encourage him to say over and over and over and over are, "Oh YEEAAAHHHHH!" and "Oh boy!"<br /><br />Whenever anyone leaves, or Major leaves somewhere, he must <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=pound%20it%20lock%20it%20chain%20it%20EXPLOSION%20*wizard%20fingers*"><span style="font-weight: bold;">POUND IT</span></a> with everyone within a square mile, and we can't leave until he finishes. Thanks for that one, Captain!<br /><br />Oh, how I love my boy. I love his sweet hugs and kisses. I love his voice as he calls out for Mama when he wakes up. I love his giggles and games and tickles. I love how he brings books to me and then turns around so he can back into my lap for reading time. I love how he puts his stuffed giraffe on his push car, so they can ride around together.<br /><br />I love how excited he is about all the Christmas lights everywhere. If he walks into the room and the Christmas tree lights and the garland lights and the lights on the mantle aren't all turned on, he insists that I do it right away. When we ride around in the car, he points and oohs and aahhs over all the lights around town. And he TOTALLY gets unwrapping gifts...in fact, I don't know how he's missed the wrapped gifts that are under the tree -- must be the thousands of lights that are everywhere else in the house. =)<br /><br />There are some things that aren't so much fun, but I guess it means he's learning -- I found 5 socks in his trash can today, I'd been wondering where they were...and he's learned to unlock and open the dishwasher, and how to take his tray off while he's sitting in his high chair (and throw it to the floor), and how to climb up into the chair in the living room and stand up, almost giving his Mama a heart attack as he just about topples over the arm, and he's FINALLY learned the fine art of a sippy cup, and man that kid can drink water and milk.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggGk4-t6vSshiFn12mWgm2OYfLuDw1w-IU2w6YspPXUiJGZnqW67_BQkyg0HidSGZ99BEA2nol7n3K3X1OxUoYcovlGIeLNVrUGHeQR1YxA1Jq9cdfEMhLWq_P3OSzA7748TxUA/s1600-h/IMG_4581.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggGk4-t6vSshiFn12mWgm2OYfLuDw1w-IU2w6YspPXUiJGZnqW67_BQkyg0HidSGZ99BEA2nol7n3K3X1OxUoYcovlGIeLNVrUGHeQR1YxA1Jq9cdfEMhLWq_P3OSzA7748TxUA/s320/IMG_4581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412336290136137778" border="0" /></a><br />Life is full and busy and crazy and exhausting, but oh so much fun!<br /><br /><br />Here he is petting the dog we saw at the Night in Bethlehem at a local church. He was so cute all bundled up, and he just stood there petting the dog for as long as I'd let him. He loves animals!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZ5yRCmBRTIC_Ad-Hei_2fHKD-lqgXFg6toW0AOaDShx6zF5ajPxc9TIgfmfogO87V1HkC6WiKsTvKJndFxopoaWDxrzhvPZdvYKPesBreZodTJZcJRkGNRPloLDVLTQjjjONtg/s1600-h/IMG_4696.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZ5yRCmBRTIC_Ad-Hei_2fHKD-lqgXFg6toW0AOaDShx6zF5ajPxc9TIgfmfogO87V1HkC6WiKsTvKJndFxopoaWDxrzhvPZdvYKPesBreZodTJZcJRkGNRPloLDVLTQjjjONtg/s320/IMG_4696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412336689791338162" border="0" /></a><br />And here are both my boys at Daddy's favorite restaurant, Jack Stack, in Overland Park.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjta98CW_FTpVJoQJjT68Rbcg3v91uQxRVhdEwZIv7JFu7mEJQCcbiytdBE9PKdScGmxd3jlavts_MJ4Mz6hJnPsR3qfJFH6zUk-Eg4lH7cN4g6dNBG2hKPtlYgukUTQ3-BNHLyMQ/s1600-h/IMG_4645.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjta98CW_FTpVJoQJjT68Rbcg3v91uQxRVhdEwZIv7JFu7mEJQCcbiytdBE9PKdScGmxd3jlavts_MJ4Mz6hJnPsR3qfJFH6zUk-Eg4lH7cN4g6dNBG2hKPtlYgukUTQ3-BNHLyMQ/s320/IMG_4645.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412336682943608210" border="0" /></a>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-66317919963076783412009-11-21T08:48:00.002-06:002009-11-21T08:56:11.313-06:00To sleep or not to sleep?That is the question I ask myself every morning when The Colonel gets up for work. See, I like to have a little time to myself before Major wakes up, but that means I need to be up by 6:30am at the latest. And even then, that's sometimes too late to get up. <br /><br />BUT, that means I have to get my booty out of bed that early. I always wake up when The Colonel gets up -- what I mean is, I open my eyes for a brief moment and glance at the clock. Then I lay there and think about getting up. <br /><br />But my bed is so warm, and my puppy is usually snuggled next to me, and it's so COLD in the house.<br /><br />But, if I don't get up, then the boy will wake up, and I will be forced to try to get ready while he turns my closet upside down...he pulls dirty clothes out of the hamper on to the floor, all of the Colonel's belts come off the rack, my makeup brushes are yanked out of the drawer...all while I'm trying to wash my face, brush my teeth and attempt to look presentable.<br /><br />It's not that I'm still tired when the alarm goes off in the morning (well, sometimes I am), it's just that it's so cozy in bed and I'm not always ready to start the day. Of course, if I don't start the day on my terms, then my super busy toddler will start the day for me.<br /><br />What a dilemma!Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-91516175350019882302009-11-20T13:10:00.002-06:002009-11-20T13:40:43.839-06:00Since I became a mom...PART 2One of the things I forgot to mention the other day about SINCE I BECAME A MOM is that I have lost my short term memory...since I became a Mom.<br /><br />If you tell me something, and I don't immediately write it down or put it on my calendar or add it to the very large and ugly stack of papers on my dining room table, then I will promptly forget it forever...or until I'm lying in bed or standing in the shower or in some equally inconvenient place.<br /><br />Which is why I forgot the very thing that made me write the SINCE I BECAME A MOM post, the one thing that triggered my mind into thinking about all the things that have changed...it just flew right out of my head. And believe it or not, wine did not have anything to do with me forgetting...this time. =)<br /><br />So anyway, here it is:<br /><br />It's the holidays. The air is crisp, the leaves are falling, the skies are blue and beautiful, and most people are in good spirits. So, charities are out in full force (including my employer, but that's another story, altogether) asking for money. They tug at your heart strings and play you videos and show you pictures and ask for your donation to help their cause.<br /><br />In years past, I had NO problem ignoring most of these pleas. I chose not to answer my phone or open my door. I scrolled quickly past the blog posts and deleted emails without reading them (sorry if some of them were from you). I read my bulletin during church instead of paying attention to the video. But then....but then, I had a child. And all of a sudden, everything changed.<br /><br />Every time I hear a sad story about a child who is ill, I think about how it could be my child. Every time that I see a child go without medical care or food or love or shoes, or anything! my eyes well up, and I start thinking about adopting a little baby from India so they don't have to live on the streets. I come home from women's dinners and church activities and craft fairs, and I tell my husband that we NEED to give to this charity and this missionary and that cause. I tell him the stories that I heard, and just when he might be about to agree to give...I hear about ANOTHER cause that needs my help! Aaahhh!!<br /><br />What do I do??<br /><br />We are not made of money. In fact, we are SO not made of money. If only I wouldn't have wasted so much money years ago when we were young and single and had 2 amazing incomes....oh wait, that's another story, too.<br /><br />Anyway, I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to give to all the great things that I hear about, but we can't. So, I choose the few that we can help monetarily, and we decide to pray and cry for the others. And thank God every single day that we are SO blessed to have a healthy and beautiful child...a child who never goes hungry, who has lots of shoes and too many toys and is surrounded by friends and family who love him unconditionally.<br /><br />Just another way that things have changed since I became a mom. If you are looking for somewhere to donate some of your love and finances to, these are some of the organizations that I have fallen in love with. Check them out if you get a chance:<br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.worldvision.org/content.nsf/pages/search-for-a-child?open&campaign=1193512&cmp=KNC-1193512">World Vision</a> - a Christian humanitarian organization dedicated to working with children, families and their communities worldwide to reach their full potential by tackling the causes of poverty and injustice. World Vision provides hope and assistance to approximately 100 million people in nearly 100 countries. In communities around the world, we join with local people to find lasting ways to improve the lives of poor children and families.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">-</span><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"> </span><a style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.gingermillermon.com/pages/1">and a special story about World Vision here</a><br /><a href="http://reecesrainbow.com/"><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Reese's Rainbow</span></a> - International Down Syndrome Orphan Ministry -- Outside of the U.S. children born with Down Syndrome are viewed as outcasts with no ability to learn or be functional members of society. They languish in mental institutions, hidden away from the world in shame. Reese's Rainbow provides financial support to families trying to rescue and adopt these children.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> -</span><a style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" href="http://ralphcrew.blogspot.com/2009/11/drop-in-bucket.html"> a personal story about plea for help for Reese's Rainbow</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.samaritanspurse.org/"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Samaritan's Purse</span></a> - For over 35 years, Samaritan's Purse has done our utmost to follow Christ's command by going to the aid of the world's poor, sick, and suffering. We are an effective means of reaching hurting people in countries around the world with food, medicine, and other assistance in the Name of Jesus Christ. This, in turn, earns us a hearing for the Gospel, the Good News of eternal life through Jesus Christ. Our emergency relief programs provide desperately needed assistance to victims of natural disaster, war, disease, and famine. As we offer food, water, and temporary shelter, we meet critical needs and give people a chance to rebuild their lives.<br /><br /><a href="http://lucajohnfoundation.org/"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">The Luca John Foundation</span></a> - this is a charity that was founded by my neighbor's daughter and son-in-law after they lost their little boy shortly after his birth. They provide support (both financially and emotionally) to families who lose infants. It's amazing to see the love that has come out of such a tragic thing.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If you're looking for a cause to support this holiday season, all of these are amazing. If you already have your favorite cause to give to, thank you so much for your giving spirit. Reading these stories makes me realize how blessed we are to live in the way that we do. We are so lucky....and there are so many others who need our help!</span><br /><br /><br />And to end on a light note...one more thing SINCE I BECAME A MOM...my jeans no longer fit, I run into doors and walls because my hips stick out more than before, and coffee has become a non-negotiable.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"></span></span></span>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-25119819598740232452009-11-18T22:10:00.005-06:002009-11-19T07:12:26.390-06:00Since I became a mom...I get less done, I cook more, I snuggle and hug and kiss and love more...<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />I notice cute kids "driving" the cart from the little car in front. I notice moms who are mean and impatient and rude to their kids in the store. I check out that super cute stroller on the bike path. I smile and tease the baby in the cart in front of me.<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />I can no longer tolerate F bombs. I couldn't really tolerate it before, but now it just really grates on me. Now I'M the one muttering under my breath about those idiot kids.<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />I can no longer watch movies about sad things unless it has a happy ending. And I especially can't want shows or movies where kids are hurt. (I bawled like a baby through Australia today and don't even get me started on Slumdog Millionaire.)<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />I ABSOLUTELY can NOT understand what possesses someone to hurt or sell or torture or kill a child. I can understand the frustration and impatience you feel with a child, but they are depending on YOU to care for them. How in the world can a caregiver do so much damage to a child. (Little Shaniya's story in NC is eating me up!)<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />I now understand what people meant when they said, "you'll feel differently when it's your own." Boy oh boy, do I get it now.<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />BUT, I still don't get how all of that love is inside of me. Where did it come from?? How in the world did it just SHOW UP when my boy was handed to me? And where did the extra love (and patience and adoration and appreciation) for his daddy come from? God is amazing, that's all there is about it.<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />Now, I can really appreciate the sacrifice and the AWESOME AWESOME gift that God gave to me when He allowed His Son to die, to SUFFER so immensely, on the cross, just so that I could live. Oh, what a sacrifice it was. I can't even fathom.<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />nerve endings are closer to the surface, tears come more easily, laughter and smiles come more readily, chores go unfinished, priorities change...<br /><br />...since I became a mom.<br /><br />And I'm SO loving all of it!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1YIUlH0NlveGQvCVxjHOrqnfEDKpW1OWEhdtSJpTbAZhxiq5l_fiCpiyc3UAeYxX7FxZEfEv3MpR87yNx_MOBV17gyYDNw6Q7vNTAWmSJxoeQyQ1ZU00HMsbhBSFSg0MyUgOBg/s1600/IMG_4423.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1YIUlH0NlveGQvCVxjHOrqnfEDKpW1OWEhdtSJpTbAZhxiq5l_fiCpiyc3UAeYxX7FxZEfEv3MpR87yNx_MOBV17gyYDNw6Q7vNTAWmSJxoeQyQ1ZU00HMsbhBSFSg0MyUgOBg/s320/IMG_4423.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405665287641278962" border="0" /></a>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-92001259180315410292009-10-16T09:28:00.002-05:002009-10-16T09:34:49.986-05:00So BigMy boy is getting SO big. He learns something new approximately every nanosecond that he is awake. I am just amazed!<br /><br />I just watched him (purposely) drop his sippy cup of milk on the floor. Then he marched over to the oven and pulled off one of his washcloths. He took the washcloth to the spill and bent down to wipe it up. Apparently, one wash cloth wasn't enough because he went back for one more. Then he tried to throw the washcloth in the trash, but I'd locked him out of the pantry where the trash can is. <br /><br />We hear a new word almost every day now, too. Last night he said "drink," which is how we refer to his cup and anything that he drinks. It was bedtime, but his cup was sitting on his dresser, and he wanted to finish it before bed, so he pointed and said, "drink!" He also just started saying "Off" as soon as he wakes up, because he wants me to turn OFF all the stuff in his room - fan, radio, humidifier. So sweet.<br /><br />He picks up on EVERYTHING! Oh, how I love this boy. More and more every single day...even when he's pulling everything off of the counter or out of the drawers, or dumping his milk on the floor so he can fingerpaint in it, or when he's wriggling while I'm changing a poopy diaper or tugging on my pants screaming while I'm just trying to make lunch as fast as I can...I love him...Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31174985.post-9664400807758996612009-10-11T22:17:00.003-05:002009-10-11T22:24:40.240-05:00Who's Really In ChargeIt's obvious by these pictures who is REALLY in charge in our house...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZvD48v50P9zbp3JNeK9rEOgQxO78fs-E7JTN5Nw15_sME5TKISMf7ysctST_TRSaNNnh5hEvgp9mGmm9u12c0nLkWKOBx5rD7dzv7d0LP_gLA6rn43HdK4sl2Esz2VUtkPakeg/s1600-h/IMG_4187.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZvD48v50P9zbp3JNeK9rEOgQxO78fs-E7JTN5Nw15_sME5TKISMf7ysctST_TRSaNNnh5hEvgp9mGmm9u12c0nLkWKOBx5rD7dzv7d0LP_gLA6rn43HdK4sl2Esz2VUtkPakeg/s320/IMG_4187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391548067753655074" border="0" /></a>Now that the boy can climb up into the chair like a big kid, and he knows exactly what to do with the remote, I think that we will have to watch Colby's Clubhouse nonstop from now on! I love this kid!!<br /><br /><br />I made some chocolate cookies today, and I think they were quite popular w/ the male species in my house...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2nKM1a2QaJbLhP_hY9Sw6I-yqjlOiEXCUakab4tSKKh3B3Yn5u_1O_TL3Stz0T0DOYKJl6JnN6a7PelY-B_e2Y9OqdsBTWitJp2aAEFbpD2kpj0ldBdxOR7QfjNeSGB_UgnMQQ/s1600-h/IMG_4189.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM2nKM1a2QaJbLhP_hY9Sw6I-yqjlOiEXCUakab4tSKKh3B3Yn5u_1O_TL3Stz0T0DOYKJl6JnN6a7PelY-B_e2Y9OqdsBTWitJp2aAEFbpD2kpj0ldBdxOR7QfjNeSGB_UgnMQQ/s320/IMG_4189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391548079735500722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsnQNQY2WO_qbyQiThQ0ihv0TngNb4I6qNNIp2rn4wrvCVg-2m2RMwgqz39DWVgPppFVS8Ee5jOt2F48Fw94Lux3mhbM9KDLRo-0GSTy5hfqgv02QjtHJ5JM9bgJvO07ML6_CDQ/s1600-h/IMG_4190.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsnQNQY2WO_qbyQiThQ0ihv0TngNb4I6qNNIp2rn4wrvCVg-2m2RMwgqz39DWVgPppFVS8Ee5jOt2F48Fw94Lux3mhbM9KDLRo-0GSTy5hfqgv02QjtHJ5JM9bgJvO07ML6_CDQ/s320/IMG_4190.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391548086992569042" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0Lu5csdxFqUxy91ZFcUHx84vMz9uYdJp0_8Tq_BYKVqZmAarmxVXTcoEsoCvuSHSG0NHmOO6GeQeY78_ZEWgdAYAqKB4ehLtWHVnowZS7TZ22P4tpbNhbRsg2qkFNxMnpn1DKQ/s1600-h/IMG_4191.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0Lu5csdxFqUxy91ZFcUHx84vMz9uYdJp0_8Tq_BYKVqZmAarmxVXTcoEsoCvuSHSG0NHmOO6GeQeY78_ZEWgdAYAqKB4ehLtWHVnowZS7TZ22P4tpbNhbRsg2qkFNxMnpn1DKQ/s320/IMG_4191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391548099486081570" border="0" /></a>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05799379433865059083noreply@blogger.com3