tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60209085705067659282024-02-19T04:53:14.679-08:00Adventures in Apple ValleyBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.comBlogger273125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-65223681892017584122016-08-17T21:54:00.000-07:002016-08-17T21:54:41.834-07:00On Growth, and Apologies, and Other Lighthearted TopicsSo its been a year or five since I've blogged.<br />
<br />
Is it even still a thing? Maybe not. Ima do it anyway, it seems like good therapy...<br />
<br />
The last line of my last entry was "Im off to watch my kids grow before my eyes."<br />
<br />
They did, a little bit...<br />
<br />
I read somewhere recently (if I were awesome Id insert a cool link for you to click on here) that its scientifically proven that kids grow more in the Spring and Summer months than Fall and Winter.<br />
<br />
I'd normally call bullshit but <b>youGUYS.</b> I promise. I can SEE my son turning into teen wolf sometimes. Im NOTevenJOKINGyou. And the times I dont physically see it, I just walk into his room and take a whiff. The stench alone can almost put hair on MY chest. Axe body spray, dirty socks, angst, hope, dirt, and maybe a few springs from inside some empty mechanical pencils.<br />
<br />
BLECH.<br />
<br />
Not too long ago we had my husbands sweet, beautiful,recent college grad cousin over for a visit and she walked down the hall and I made some comment apologizing for the 'hampster cage' smell coming from Dawson's room... She loves the furrys! And lights right up... "OH, you got hamsters!...." <br />
<br />
Uh. Nope. Just preteenagers.<br />
<br />
Anabelle is growing up too these days. "Miss Lee," as her Auntie Carly calls her, is still in elementary school, but im finding myself reminding her that shes only ten all the time. Shes always been an old soul. This may prove to be quite problematic thru the teen years. This toddler who slurped her paci, and basked in her mermaid tail... its unreal. Shes so... grown. With real feelings. Im suddenly... careful.<br />
<br />
Today, I apologized.<br />
<br />
It was hard.<br />
<br />
I got up early. I was tired. I get up early a lot. So does Tyson. The kids are kids, they dont know that. We dont expect them to! But we feel it, and we are worn thin and tired. We are patient too many times with too many other things. The summer is long.<br />
<br />
Im a pleaser. Its not my favorite thing about myself. In fact its one of my least favorite things. If I could get rid of a thing... I might pick that? Im always a little fascinated and envious of those with less inhibitions. Ill chalk it up to birth order. Oldest child problems. I digress.<br />
<br />
Anyways. Today, I was babysitting two extra kids, and also expecting some special out of town company to drop by. I wanted to make sure the house was not in PERFECT spit shined order but at least picked up. So, I comissioned Anabelle for an hour or so and assigned her to a few tasks.<br />
<br />
She was so helpful and willing, and eager to meet our company even! We chatted as we played with the kids and swept the floors.<br />
<br />
Then.<br />
<br />
She disappeared.<br />
<br />
And emerged a few minutes wearing.... I dont know. A crazy outfit.<br />
<br />
It involved a crooked sideways hat and some other things. But she was trying to look awesome. And I didn't know what to say! I totally panicked. And they were, like... about to be there! So... I just went...<br />
<br />
"Uh... Seriously? No."<br />
<br />
Like a high school mean girl. HORRIBLE. I was horrible. And I knew it! But I didnt know what else to say! And What the heck is wrong with me. I should have let it go!<br />
<br />
And so.<br />
<br />
That is exactly what I told her.<br />
<br />
I realized it almost immediately.<br />
<br />
Because it really was as awful as it sounded. I have NO idea what the heck the need to control the situation was. I guess I just felt overwhelmed and spent and tired... gah. But. Thats not the point. The point is, I recently told my kid there is NEVER a reason to make someone else feel small to make yourself look cool. And thats EXACTLY what I was doing. At least subconsciously. So.<br />
<br />
I told her I was SO sorry for telling her she didnt look cool, and that if she loved that outfit and felt awesome in it, she was allowed to wear it. And I was tired and stressed. And that was rude.<br />
<br />
And holy crap.<br />
<br />
Five years is a big difference.<br />
<br />
So, I guess I'll probably either have a glass of something or a box of kleenex or a bible or a crucifix or some other defense mechanism when I blog in this clear and present danger...<br />
<br />
Hello, tween years. <br />
selloutpopstarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07951837614120237718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-14387974838537472912011-08-11T09:22:00.000-07:002011-08-11T10:22:01.281-07:00The Man I Married
<br />At the end of this week, Tyson will have worked 10 'doubles' in 12 days. A 'double' is a 16 hour day. Some were forced, some were swaps so he could get this weekend off to spend with us in Santa Barbara, and some were scheduled overtimes. Regardless, we have missed him!
<br />
<br />Dawson started asking about his Dad at bedtime last night and wondering when they would get to hang out again. When he was little, a few nights of not seeing Dad just translated into acting out and being extra naughty for him, which made for one cranky Mom. It was a strange milestone to have him be able to say he missed his dad and ask when he would see him, and for me to be able to explain that he was working hard to earn some extra time with us, and he would be home in 2 days.
<br />
<br />When I tucked Anabelle in, she was also uneasy. This is my kid that will sleep any time, any where, any time you tell her to. She NEVER has trouble falling asleep, and never has. I have pictures of her at age 4, sound asleep in a teeny little shopping cart in the middle of Michael's craft store. So when she talks about not wanting to sleep (this ONE time, ha), I pay attention.
<br />
<br />She said she was afraid of falling asleep because she has been having bad dreams. The other night, she did wake up terrified of something she couldnt explain in her state of delirium, but had forgotten what it was about by morning. Last night at bedtime, the nightmare finally resurfaced fresh enough for her to talk about.
<br />
<br />Evidently there was an awful nightmare involving a trip to the moon with her Dad. Her voice grew tight and panicked as she explained that they were exploring and then <span style="font-style: italic;">he just LEFT her there</span>. She saw him get in his rocket ship and leave, and she <span style="font-style: italic;">needed to find a way to get back to grandpa and grandma's house at the earth, but she was all alone and scared of the aliens</span>. Then she dreamt right after that of watching me drink toilet water, and she watched as I 'started to fade away'... and the dream ended with me <span style="font-style: italic;">dying in front of her.</span>
<br />
<br />Yep. Traumatized for life.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And she probably is too (haha). </span>
<br />
<br />Anyways. I explained all this to Tyson when he got home late last night, and he was particularly sensitive to it. I also mentioned that his son was missing him, and he should leave a note or something in the morning since we will have a busy couple days and they may not see each other until the weekend.
<br />
<br />When I walked into the kitchen this morning, these little gems were sitting on the counter...
<br />
<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Anabelle:</span>
<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMisGu8DEpM-ijawD8ACXvFMtOtTK6ELQgLsESvwYieu8eCtyV0hAyyuR0qDkUPVx4wxIZuoWJ62oe84oxqU6aMSqlvZsKdpAMCgadLx_2IPFFzAgN3kuhp8s2fltJ1ldnSdfEWn8cec/s1600/IMG_7187.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxMisGu8DEpM-ijawD8ACXvFMtOtTK6ELQgLsESvwYieu8eCtyV0hAyyuR0qDkUPVx4wxIZuoWJ62oe84oxqU6aMSqlvZsKdpAMCgadLx_2IPFFzAgN3kuhp8s2fltJ1ldnSdfEWn8cec/s320/IMG_7187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639639537598568450" border="0" /></a>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">For Dawson:</span>
<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzTBn5yPR2ZMDD8I9n_8riGKQEzpGVwRoWOA6oz1AO9Qqw-B_yxorIDWapD7n6yAQMu2mua06aHaUl0zie9nBmn4vukU32-BJWjyXuBhaXXVCxKASfmEUfKu2RAxGwWJkmiPL0zygEJrk/s1600/IMG_7188.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzTBn5yPR2ZMDD8I9n_8riGKQEzpGVwRoWOA6oz1AO9Qqw-B_yxorIDWapD7n6yAQMu2mua06aHaUl0zie9nBmn4vukU32-BJWjyXuBhaXXVCxKASfmEUfKu2RAxGwWJkmiPL0zygEJrk/s320/IMG_7188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639639542189811506" border="0" /></a>I seriously feel like there is NO free time these days. I am looking at our calendar realizing we are pretty booked until NOVEMBER. We are having the time of our lives shooting bb guns and baking and coloring and swimming and biking and shopping and projecting ourselves to death with the kids, planning parties and outings and adventures <span style="font-style: italic;">with</span> and <span style="font-style: italic;">without</span> the little rascals, attending gatherings and orientations and races and get togethers of any and all kinds, but one day... when life slows down...
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I have a dream...</span>
<br />
<br />I want to write a childrens book, and I want my husband to illustrate it. He is really REALLY good. Not many people know this about him, but<span style="font-style: italic;"> the man can draw!</span> He doodles on napkins things that my brain could never imagine. He sees pictures from angles I never realized were there. He even has a unique 'style' that I could pick out of a book of a thousand pictures. The man is a natural artist who has never explored his potential. I realize I am gushing over these cheesy little note cards, but he seriously slapped them out in 30 seconds flat. You should see what he can do when he actually TRIES.
<br />
<br />Anyways.
<br />
<br />Now I've said it. I've 'put it into the universe,' and Im hoping it resurfaces again one day when the days pass a little more slowly, even if our grandchildren are the only ones who ever take the time to read it.
<br />
<br />Im off to watch my kids grow before my eyes!
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqb4fb3SMWxNa8sm7tiQx_zEFpxYbGKxdyzugf5eQWeU4tBb6YKu2DcHyCODLYNH1LaP7vTi8R73Q8TNlTwrAaStkCmZBiDdB8QcoGV4rx5rmXELYqJKoa-dw_g-edbf4-jtoovGuwIYk/s1600/IMG_7156.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqb4fb3SMWxNa8sm7tiQx_zEFpxYbGKxdyzugf5eQWeU4tBb6YKu2DcHyCODLYNH1LaP7vTi8R73Q8TNlTwrAaStkCmZBiDdB8QcoGV4rx5rmXELYqJKoa-dw_g-edbf4-jtoovGuwIYk/s320/IMG_7156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639644929388403138" border="0" /></a>
<br />xo
<br />Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-11166017347786528642011-07-21T14:26:00.001-07:002011-07-25T14:50:40.403-07:00Living Like A "Rock" StarThis is it... the highly anticipated Half Dome blog. Get it? "Rock" star? Elissa Parrish, I know you love me for this...<br /><br />So... its been a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">doozie</span> of a week or so.<br /><br />I took 2 days off at the end of last week to celebrate with some old friends from high school... our class reunion at my parent's house was a nice relaxing time to catch up on some familiar and dear old faces that have been missed over the last decade or so! It was a decent turn out, I think a little more than 1/3rd of the 30 that graduated were able to make it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXKKNlDDiwNuPiS_l4d43YFmhNSlO8wGjr6OQtZQ4aBnyzVTkwDlG7v-ERIbLPyehaHmdMBI53LLB4h0wc8Pu1JBZqM2B7wONNcBJaDAOjOXjIIqASyRLpPMwQHQdE0eG8eVhYGHbSFI/s1600/DSC06685+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXKKNlDDiwNuPiS_l4d43YFmhNSlO8wGjr6OQtZQ4aBnyzVTkwDlG7v-ERIbLPyehaHmdMBI53LLB4h0wc8Pu1JBZqM2B7wONNcBJaDAOjOXjIIqASyRLpPMwQHQdE0eG8eVhYGHbSFI/s320/DSC06685+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633392708342870818" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2BWDnPdtRqfyCkYjobLDpEBHk0rB4xJDI2uXxVAT5Ojaxe6l4KXlgLSsGLjPi9S7OLaebBxv0H1-6N2KGKXtc7-vVdkoiylXW3VSVTCUp3AtKkJOmZqTvaqg0yZpklswaTq1kkd7kKg/s1600/DSC06688+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2BWDnPdtRqfyCkYjobLDpEBHk0rB4xJDI2uXxVAT5Ojaxe6l4KXlgLSsGLjPi9S7OLaebBxv0H1-6N2KGKXtc7-vVdkoiylXW3VSVTCUp3AtKkJOmZqTvaqg0yZpklswaTq1kkd7kKg/s320/DSC06688+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633392704130686450" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfLC8yfPj_VSTJOf2rdsBhnEJpxRQmGn7ZoCbi02tYfPWw6yQYCe-SpR87bFPDYBdmKa-CYe-oNHrGNK9ZvC3uwrp6kQCN-gtA70Rr4BEbaEYlMWrU4vV5WK42dUsTUwEWlROScnDHZw/s1600/DSC06677+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfLC8yfPj_VSTJOf2rdsBhnEJpxRQmGn7ZoCbi02tYfPWw6yQYCe-SpR87bFPDYBdmKa-CYe-oNHrGNK9ZvC3uwrp6kQCN-gtA70Rr4BEbaEYlMWrU4vV5WK42dUsTUwEWlROScnDHZw/s320/DSC06677+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633392708977475074" border="0" /></a><br />We were so busy catching up, roasting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">s'mores</span>, playing 'high school trivia,' eating, drinking, being merry, and just plain old hanging out... there aren't a ton of pictures but we all had a great time. I think. ;)<br /><br />On Friday we recovered from a late night the evening before and slept in, then met up with whoever was around in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">SLO</span> for lunch and wine tasting and some of our old favorite hang outs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhFfhIwC3SYZMUCLYi6U1DuAOuBZNt5yWP-YWVqistNeNf1c1vgZGf62-jN6WxLEA47VIWfevb9qfQ8F6L-OpB3gc5z-o16QTS5gevwxBNHF6m7Yk3iLs9CFAHwAiSvemWwFsmPmg2x8/s1600/IMG_6347+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRhFfhIwC3SYZMUCLYi6U1DuAOuBZNt5yWP-YWVqistNeNf1c1vgZGf62-jN6WxLEA47VIWfevb9qfQ8F6L-OpB3gc5z-o16QTS5gevwxBNHF6m7Yk3iLs9CFAHwAiSvemWwFsmPmg2x8/s320/IMG_6347+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633391560978600642" border="0" /></a><br />I still have cool friends... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">yesss</span>!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfgk94NQjPcMPDHIWGtxi_6Z7_UEjHXVD4iXIyVmd-IMUyJziGTVx86uzn1c8qoY0g_hwdbVCL8kLysliyAwbPsklshH7L6uUVaPHq2FfS0RYPIbZvjGtr_cvn3WDN_8bhAGt48Ww6s0/s1600/IMG_6355+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfgk94NQjPcMPDHIWGtxi_6Z7_UEjHXVD4iXIyVmd-IMUyJziGTVx86uzn1c8qoY0g_hwdbVCL8kLysliyAwbPsklshH7L6uUVaPHq2FfS0RYPIbZvjGtr_cvn3WDN_8bhAGt48Ww6s0/s320/IMG_6355+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633390168563964290" border="0" /></a><br />Saturday it was family day in Yosemite.<br /><br />Maybe I should back up a step and say that my youngest brother, Kyle, got an amazing opportunity to spend 8 weeks this summer working for the California Youth Conservation Corps in Yosemite National Park.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90kxIdWBcLScFyAyPERQ-auxozRhcHHChLNNJrLVIQhHDgJhfiYO8Up0SQoie5z7uB_9mzihJrGPXgxlLpQ5mRYgeNwDLbQN8kGHGVeUbDRUIFabxLZpkhMyvuRRu4cBel0iPigCwEPc/s1600/IMG_6385+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90kxIdWBcLScFyAyPERQ-auxozRhcHHChLNNJrLVIQhHDgJhfiYO8Up0SQoie5z7uB_9mzihJrGPXgxlLpQ5mRYgeNwDLbQN8kGHGVeUbDRUIFabxLZpkhMyvuRRu4cBel0iPigCwEPc/s320/IMG_6385+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633390162817330354" border="0" /></a><br />He is literally sleeping in a basement on a cot and working his butt off blazing trails, backpacking, building <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">tepees</span> for the Indians that summer there, and being a mountain man all the live long day. It was good to see him... he looks GREAT and I know he will have a new appreciation for his own bed when he gets home in a few weeks a $RICH$ man with a fancy resume! ITS A PAID POSITION!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiioV56ZzIySdUVVphNshiXKiXvT6yHlyl5HWs999x3NXkIdIvtW2OY5zig_rPVm6LuLYMCN9aYfCD4uH8_70BpLz94CVTOfUrjNI-T1b6YmGpbUzg1mxZjQ4CmSMzzxQkD9n4v5hVM1Q/s1600/IMG_6381.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiioV56ZzIySdUVVphNshiXKiXvT6yHlyl5HWs999x3NXkIdIvtW2OY5zig_rPVm6LuLYMCN9aYfCD4uH8_70BpLz94CVTOfUrjNI-T1b6YmGpbUzg1mxZjQ4CmSMzzxQkD9n4v5hVM1Q/s320/IMG_6381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633390162627661954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Chelsea and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Wady</span> (my high school <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">bff</span> and her husband) were planning a visit for the reunion and since it happened to overlap with these grand Yosemite family day plans we decided to drag them along and make the most of it. We made plans to just stay over night in a neighboring town and take a little day hike the next morning on some obscure little wilderness trail called... <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Half Dome.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(WHAT THE HELL WERE WE THINKING!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?</span>)<br /><br />It was breath taking.<br /><br />Literally.<br /><br />No, but seriously.<br /><br />Did you know you can't breathe up there? (<span style="font-style: italic;">I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">didn't</span>!</span>) But then we found out <span style="font-style: italic;">real fast.</span><br /><br />We started our hike at a little after 6:30am. The hotel we stayed at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"></span>the night before was in Oakhurst, so we were still a good hour and a half from the trail head the morning of the hike. You do the math... we got up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">earrrly</span>. Or late. Or something.<br /><br />We saw some pretty amazing stuff.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-TTbmj2r1st7hdkcBMQl5ReUzTh2tFkOg2Rb6wKuQmBE4OLdJFt_y1rhGHEa_Pn901mSBnmvDrhEqdgy9hOPEab4rStw8sLJwfH9mQlsekGp4PDonpWFLYqhRJT4rwm7WbwtkVjA-Dk/s1600/IMG_6421+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl-TTbmj2r1st7hdkcBMQl5ReUzTh2tFkOg2Rb6wKuQmBE4OLdJFt_y1rhGHEa_Pn901mSBnmvDrhEqdgy9hOPEab4rStw8sLJwfH9mQlsekGp4PDonpWFLYqhRJT4rwm7WbwtkVjA-Dk/s320/IMG_6421+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633399851745464770" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vOySMBLhCGfIXMhtq0t5j8XNCTrq8PLkja4VZbduvgs8q1itl7O7Am49eandOWEBLu4s6-z8ZUdOc3lhDE_drvMREQPvNI-z9ZiqstdGaeTC1FGPoBG1hBVYKULQvd0STLONIBaATfw/s1600/IMG_6423+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vOySMBLhCGfIXMhtq0t5j8XNCTrq8PLkja4VZbduvgs8q1itl7O7Am49eandOWEBLu4s6-z8ZUdOc3lhDE_drvMREQPvNI-z9ZiqstdGaeTC1FGPoBG1hBVYKULQvd0STLONIBaATfw/s320/IMG_6423+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633389453959846050" border="0" /></a><br />We had some pretty good laughs.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_RWpH_0ZYtoDtsIPkrttAofU6i4xc7UpZHlPoTfAfSOczYEWw08aiMUtl_7Mfa0Rg4A9wQGv6p4CMyCgNsDxPB66Hc-ZoQgebMUl6apZZ-Y4vruNMkICfGX8-2MdQTXUnaJJV9Sq2Arc/s1600/IMG_6417+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_RWpH_0ZYtoDtsIPkrttAofU6i4xc7UpZHlPoTfAfSOczYEWw08aiMUtl_7Mfa0Rg4A9wQGv6p4CMyCgNsDxPB66Hc-ZoQgebMUl6apZZ-Y4vruNMkICfGX8-2MdQTXUnaJJV9Sq2Arc/s320/IMG_6417+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633390157269170034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbZm54XNz43zGwNF72J9me3Yiv5FqC1inG_WjQoIiK3Whk0fQMlA2K_ql2uSXZ7oyOy8wT66eY-3TvVVUFVH68nRKCRB5Ks-jDHr8TSeXGgcVGmrpJ9Xzv5JtqBHbO4fYlDQPQ490nas/s1600/IMG_6413+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCbZm54XNz43zGwNF72J9me3Yiv5FqC1inG_WjQoIiK3Whk0fQMlA2K_ql2uSXZ7oyOy8wT66eY-3TvVVUFVH68nRKCRB5Ks-jDHr8TSeXGgcVGmrpJ9Xzv5JtqBHbO4fYlDQPQ490nas/s320/IMG_6413+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633395693673905218" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf32SnS2yMEawXgCv38aQX21TqaN-jPrdlaCJ8cTdImmFimKhtx7vJur6j_ElgHRYFRmfrbz09HXtoNzIE0OAPtj6KqcpDQbU9sErIzwNfs3IaLtnaseG_rgEUPdTQaynXI_VvRZwMepc/s1600/IMG_6415+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf32SnS2yMEawXgCv38aQX21TqaN-jPrdlaCJ8cTdImmFimKhtx7vJur6j_ElgHRYFRmfrbz09HXtoNzIE0OAPtj6KqcpDQbU9sErIzwNfs3IaLtnaseG_rgEUPdTQaynXI_VvRZwMepc/s320/IMG_6415+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633390157157229474" border="0" /></a><br />We walked some pretty steep miles.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6Uk7cCm5-VPQMXrg0o4X5xR_oOPVDYKzW7xI4hhVJbrbfwTEjp_7KKDfQ9fNLIpNbgSRkJarh7VaqBRv0mcNVFM2s2ec1VTbcgKrbJr34dXF_ztcOm8sA3uT298CFELZJOeF_5jOikk/s1600/IMG_6398+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM6Uk7cCm5-VPQMXrg0o4X5xR_oOPVDYKzW7xI4hhVJbrbfwTEjp_7KKDfQ9fNLIpNbgSRkJarh7VaqBRv0mcNVFM2s2ec1VTbcgKrbJr34dXF_ztcOm8sA3uT298CFELZJOeF_5jOikk/s320/IMG_6398+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633399845652959634" border="0" /></a><br />We made some pretty cool friends... <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7xx5SYrKdiqIyUjYGPUc8OYsyvbK4N76DNtB3lnNxv75UYEUTXs9TsxyTshyR0UmAT6m_gMMDXNxsQirksOOyQFAZzLqP9-g0QTc8ukDd7NujhtROsyrXyxxpcEF9OdBYyJVL9CxVsU/s1600/IMG_6424+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7xx5SYrKdiqIyUjYGPUc8OYsyvbK4N76DNtB3lnNxv75UYEUTXs9TsxyTshyR0UmAT6m_gMMDXNxsQirksOOyQFAZzLqP9-g0QTc8ukDd7NujhtROsyrXyxxpcEF9OdBYyJVL9CxVsU/s320/IMG_6424+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633389448505730530" border="0" /></a>who shared their permits with us since we are slackers that didn't realize<span style="font-weight: bold;"> SIX MONTHS AGO</span> when they sold out online (<span style="font-style: italic;">seven seconds after they went on sale</span>) that we were going to hike half dome on July 17<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">th</span>. Wild. Anyways. We scored the paper thanks to these kind hikers. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">That's</span> all that matters. Without the transfered permit that we were totally chancing on getting ahold of, we would not have been allowed to hike past the cables once we got to the top. Which would have been a long hike with a big bummer at the end.<br /><br />I did a little<span style="font-style: italic;"> but not a lot </span>of research before we hiked. I was protecting myself from too much information... Its a weird thing I have a habit of doing. I can't over think anything or else seeds of doubt creep in and mess with my head. Hindsight, this was a good move.<br /><br />We all knew just enough before hand to make sure we had good hiking boots with<span style="font-style: italic;"> lots of tread</span>.<br /><br />We knew how much water to bring per person and what kind of food to pack.<br /><br />We knew how many miles, how long it would take us, what the temperature would be...<br /><br />We were NOT prepared for this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_mVDj2YNaGDdCC60mnQKZzalogIIErFZA-KSopgjFyUHttQANPB3IufYhufSukJNp5NIJh5cNSJkUKCpaT6GikjmwrUnO64Pc4FEe5PduWLzJG3I9WnjTRVeFGkc8IJc178tnB16Tt4/s1600/IMG_6429+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_mVDj2YNaGDdCC60mnQKZzalogIIErFZA-KSopgjFyUHttQANPB3IufYhufSukJNp5NIJh5cNSJkUKCpaT6GikjmwrUnO64Pc4FEe5PduWLzJG3I9WnjTRVeFGkc8IJc178tnB16Tt4/s320/IMG_6429+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633389444238183986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhipD5wrckfVBXaeWIaS9YrMdUz0VVLE_eBeXdFeZVve7Qlo4GSRxOv_DH5cXKM50KcGaA9tKgFfTNxOOad3BaRFb9bzEGdR63CgqXnG59FCCMC7dU0Nw428rwWwy_rR-ZW3_heU2OL8Tc/s1600/IMG_6460+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhipD5wrckfVBXaeWIaS9YrMdUz0VVLE_eBeXdFeZVve7Qlo4GSRxOv_DH5cXKM50KcGaA9tKgFfTNxOOad3BaRFb9bzEGdR63CgqXnG59FCCMC7dU0Nw428rwWwy_rR-ZW3_heU2OL8Tc/s320/IMG_6460+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633406184591299730" border="0" /></a><br />The pictures do no justice to just how terrifying it is to be standing there looking at this thing you are supposed to do with all the other millions of morons at varying skill levels that are trying to do the exact same difficult thing as you at different speeds and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">abilities</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDbCvPogbXHt6EACdVS5C-DourIULm5Wr82AVw7IglAS8pAUyZ0SaUno-XU2P4vYbVFAAn__okB2leWvkXGT-LXxHo66DCqfiFu0SvqoH_ZOjEzmAex4aun06a1gd7VjTXkGQ_4giynE/s1600/IMG_6458+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDbCvPogbXHt6EACdVS5C-DourIULm5Wr82AVw7IglAS8pAUyZ0SaUno-XU2P4vYbVFAAn__okB2leWvkXGT-LXxHo66DCqfiFu0SvqoH_ZOjEzmAex4aun06a1gd7VjTXkGQ_4giynE/s320/IMG_6458+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633388978615847410" border="0" /></a><br />Some people had gloves and ropes and real mountain climbing GEAR!<br /><br />Some people were families... that were taking all the years of aggression from around the dinner table out on each other at 7500 feet as our lives dangled in front of us by one tiny cable. No, but seriously. This one guy and his teenage daughter were YELLING at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">each other</span> to "SHUT UP! <span style="font-weight: bold;">SHUT UP!!! </span>NO <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">YOU SHUT UP!!!!....</span>" as we all held on to the same life line praying and concentrating... slightly stressful.<br /><br />Some people didn't speak any English, which makes communicating hard (which is kind of a luxury you want to take advantage of if you have it). I totally came home and Googled how to say <span style="font-style: italic;">"tell my children I love them"</span> in Japanese so I'll have it handy for next time.<br /><br />Speaking of kids, some people had <span style="font-style: italic;">CHILDREN with them!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span> Well, not like <span style="font-style: italic;">baby</span> children, but like 8 and 9 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">olds</span>! Wild. I think my kids are pretty tough cookies... but truthfully I don't know if <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">theres</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">any age</span> that I would feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">OK</span> watching them do that at. Sorry, Mom. But its totally true.<br /><br />When we got close to the top it was literally just giant steps cut into granite rock that we had to scale. That part was scary enough because once you get about half way up those steep little boogers, you turn around and look back and think about how ugly you would look smeared across the face of the cliff you accidentally just climbed without realizing it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYp5W9Nxp3axvTKejzQ6yfyikSXCLRv2awIMB-cM5jpn_mMZEbgP5fro5HpkShom53HRg01-S4R-K6ImPNs5jAQqF_gUczX3m-xWjHOtXHDyD96eYBjUzVES9DepIuFs4tKOpHhNvA6o/s1600/IMG_6425+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoYp5W9Nxp3axvTKejzQ6yfyikSXCLRv2awIMB-cM5jpn_mMZEbgP5fro5HpkShom53HRg01-S4R-K6ImPNs5jAQqF_gUczX3m-xWjHOtXHDyD96eYBjUzVES9DepIuFs4tKOpHhNvA6o/s320/IMG_6425+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633389448607444562" border="0" /></a><br />And then, you get to the top of the accidental cliff climbing, and there is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">teeny</span> little tent with a volunteer ranger who looks all of 14 years old who basically sits there and laughs at all the idiots (like us!) who suddenly have tons of urgent questions and concerns about how the heck they are going to make it to the top of the impossible.<br /><br /><br />Chelsea and I made it to the bluff before the cables a little ahead of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Wady</span> and Tyson. We <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">couldn't</span> see them but they weren't far behind. Then, there was a crack like the sky was splitting and Jesus was coming back, and the whole mountain we were standing on shook. I thought for sure it was an earthquake and half dome was about to end up on the floor of the valley a mere eight thousand feet below where we were standing. But... turns out... it was just a harmless little <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">avalanche</span> on the mountain across from us that was still capped with snow. <span style="font-style: italic;">Terrifying.</span><br /><br />Anyways. The view from the top is <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">incredible.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXUb-6WbXw9iy6J2FbDCV3DKFIaOOqxKLHzD0axCnvv8KQCNzaLSr9yurW2WVfhqb8WA9PUL-Jxl1QJ_w4CuOZhjuDf-1guXTnMh4fFMV8aowC_fKIGwtXA29YR_Nn8MmPtW1EunbHW0/s1600/IMG_6451+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXUb-6WbXw9iy6J2FbDCV3DKFIaOOqxKLHzD0axCnvv8KQCNzaLSr9yurW2WVfhqb8WA9PUL-Jxl1QJ_w4CuOZhjuDf-1guXTnMh4fFMV8aowC_fKIGwtXA29YR_Nn8MmPtW1EunbHW0/s320/IMG_6451+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633388976792473858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8NUeyxYoZ83twlZkIlVQMKBweyLEonVWF8TMerrNfAa89eAMhL021TyKkNtlxR2UE7YGioCqHZa3-DzzwuMttyWEWvUrtihxYLMZBGHZyWB4pKpK875hgMCfiDVxXjBEcBf5AUAS9PE/s1600/IMG_6447+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO8NUeyxYoZ83twlZkIlVQMKBweyLEonVWF8TMerrNfAa89eAMhL021TyKkNtlxR2UE7YGioCqHZa3-DzzwuMttyWEWvUrtihxYLMZBGHZyWB4pKpK875hgMCfiDVxXjBEcBf5AUAS9PE/s320/IMG_6447+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633389443425335714" border="0" /></a><br />I took a little 'rest...' and may have even dozed off a moment... only to wake up because I was literally fighting to breathe in and out. It feels like someone is standing on your chest holding a towel over your face while you inhale. I think I'm in decent shape right now over all... it really stressed us all out! It was probably a blessing in the end because if it had been that comfortable up there I might still be up there for fear of the decent back down the death wires.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJ96ZB_2Q47WUI-5j-6RTYUoJj8cBsqjc0Qb8-OIwtI_vFShTWJFV79ru-vqsKMULSJn2LfgHNDHRpP6ELNIQrtdonUdlv49fOaiNd-HMyhXQxaO1LpJiMCmBqwRPFW56LvTsh0H1Fng/s1600/IMG_6461+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJ96ZB_2Q47WUI-5j-6RTYUoJj8cBsqjc0Qb8-OIwtI_vFShTWJFV79ru-vqsKMULSJn2LfgHNDHRpP6ELNIQrtdonUdlv49fOaiNd-HMyhXQxaO1LpJiMCmBqwRPFW56LvTsh0H1Fng/s320/IMG_6461+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633388973053242402" border="0" /></a><br />Down the mountain wasn't half as bad, surprisingly. I think the worst part about down was just knowing we were all TIRED! And it was still nine miles of downhill hike back to the car. The altitude also made us all bloated and puffy... our new hiking shoes were being mean to our fat feet, my fingers looked like sausages (tasty!), and poor Tyson's joints were killing him. Down hill is meaner than up hill! He says he'd totally do it again, but not without poles. Hiking poles, not Polish people. Just to clarify.<br /><br />By the time we were back at the car, the trip had taken us a good 12 hours, and then we drove all the way home. It was a super duper late night and we had plans to go deep sea fishing out of Rose's landing in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Morro</span> Bay the next morning at 6am. We got home close to 1am, and I think that might be the most exhausted I've ever been, including running a marathon and giving birth.<br /><br />Anyways. That was our crazy mountain adventure. Its been a busy month or so, and I have more to blog about! And for once... it doesn't really involve my kids. Gasp! I <span style="font-style: italic;">almost</span> feel guilty typing that. <span style="font-style: italic;">Almost. </span><br /><br />;)Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-64701333178767562782011-07-04T16:13:00.001-07:002011-07-04T17:02:43.049-07:00Party in the USAHappy 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> of July weekend everyone!<br /><br />We've been going and going and going... I'm ready to blog just for an excuse to sit down a minute! Lucky little you. ;)<br /><br />Poor Ty had to work <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">alllll</span> weekend. Except for this morning. So, instead of moping around and hopelessly pining away for him, we decided to load the car and head to a little known haven called... LOS ANGLES.<br /><br />Evidently we weren't the only ones with that idea... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">erhm</span>. It took <span style="font-style: italic;">FOUR HOURS</span> to get out of LA on the way home. Those were some dark, dark, dark, dark hours people. Not pretty at all.<br /><br />Peed in some strange places.<br /><br />Cried real tears when the technology ran out of battery.<br /><br />There was yelling and hair pulling... I'm not telling if it was the kids or me. <br /><br />But we made it. And it was SO worth it to spend a few hours with some of my most favorite faces!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYC32ofRLgiLH4NI-1x-feN1rqJVhyphenhyphenLbqXretP5_R64KAdsy0uI1VtJeQMc9fS5hsjJ_3mZY-Kfn3eZxVHlS72yUDZFU7PAlPIKep6xxbRt890aRNkCYhjKcCiBSfiD5WqqHxrH5RN3Y/s1600/IMG_6282+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyYC32ofRLgiLH4NI-1x-feN1rqJVhyphenhyphenLbqXretP5_R64KAdsy0uI1VtJeQMc9fS5hsjJ_3mZY-Kfn3eZxVHlS72yUDZFU7PAlPIKep6xxbRt890aRNkCYhjKcCiBSfiD5WqqHxrH5RN3Y/s320/IMG_6282+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639984305225522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwEKrWHt6uDy8yFMs-8t5FLgHJuH9N3ABg_fal12cqXNlMs6VXd9UfexhaI9cn4I6YN_bbpLhfUdNuA_tKEqU3bQUhQr7Uzvhm8Fv14kMLKnAcBs-uvL3MxTwZ9Wlii9gpVweeOA5FY8/s1600/IMG_6288+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdwEKrWHt6uDy8yFMs-8t5FLgHJuH9N3ABg_fal12cqXNlMs6VXd9UfexhaI9cn4I6YN_bbpLhfUdNuA_tKEqU3bQUhQr7Uzvhm8Fv14kMLKnAcBs-uvL3MxTwZ9Wlii9gpVweeOA5FY8/s320/IMG_6288+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639972130724402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4oWi65aOYf2q-uoOTIl8sSealhopToYojxjfbDCJFskJvFRWs5u7LdxPeE8aF9u4LvqdCh8VO13HYSvueJmRM5R8NI8gf0Jjeguy_PuM3EchUq45YpymoWe_Xu_fINRawL3v02MpDJ8/s1600/IMG_6289+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl4oWi65aOYf2q-uoOTIl8sSealhopToYojxjfbDCJFskJvFRWs5u7LdxPeE8aF9u4LvqdCh8VO13HYSvueJmRM5R8NI8gf0Jjeguy_PuM3EchUq45YpymoWe_Xu_fINRawL3v02MpDJ8/s320/IMG_6289+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639967321057922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOGeXaVqjPfcFEu2_mrXnLN6l05sj38m8WZE6whKXVwRF7eD2LYavNF9hgzzTI24qWfXQ-PlKPbQh-nHgXbbXfHm3epn3tVpgM9JdE0Dyc53qZU8ka3BQCsQPLghL52Ek2QwL5maa6bo/s1600/IMG_6280+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhOGeXaVqjPfcFEu2_mrXnLN6l05sj38m8WZE6whKXVwRF7eD2LYavNF9hgzzTI24qWfXQ-PlKPbQh-nHgXbbXfHm3epn3tVpgM9JdE0Dyc53qZU8ka3BQCsQPLghL52Ek2QwL5maa6bo/s320/IMG_6280+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639990989273986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMJUx1cBwJX1RhUoelksTMNxuFXmNSZVZQ26Cu3mMO5yp9TS6Tmir5ok1rd20c5QzUwAP9qJcCOsYE1XCQw9iwqnzCK3GWUlhaGT7-rwykcc7AjoWSMTrZ5Jud7TJHXjKbuAGoLkoF6k/s1600/IMG_6301+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMJUx1cBwJX1RhUoelksTMNxuFXmNSZVZQ26Cu3mMO5yp9TS6Tmir5ok1rd20c5QzUwAP9qJcCOsYE1XCQw9iwqnzCK3GWUlhaGT7-rwykcc7AjoWSMTrZ5Jud7TJHXjKbuAGoLkoF6k/s320/IMG_6301+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639803928421282" border="0" /></a>Carly and Dave were visiting for literally 5 minutes. We got at least a good 2 of those 5 minutes, it was a treat! There was a wedding Carly was part of, and Ann and Joe were also attending. The next day (Saturday) we rolled in to town around lunch time, and they braved the blazing hot and unfamiliar freeways to come meet us for an afternoon in the shade at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">KJs</span> pool. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">KJ</span> got off work shortly after and we all swam and ate and had a grand old time, until we were STARVING and Jessica got off work and met us for a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">delish</span> family dinner.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiOxTAe5XcXBy8BpG3Tm-yGE8ZIdJfSbb-S92m79Wi3vh5jEUmpQM8KnFpyHeIO7MBxd-drArg5d-KeN61B0bathi6ZVeEViO1M-hW3_F3Z0Dwl9FiZJlaHh_Y11RYCbHfB2cEp7IU2c/s1600/IMG_6298+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYiOxTAe5XcXBy8BpG3Tm-yGE8ZIdJfSbb-S92m79Wi3vh5jEUmpQM8KnFpyHeIO7MBxd-drArg5d-KeN61B0bathi6ZVeEViO1M-hW3_F3Z0Dwl9FiZJlaHh_Y11RYCbHfB2cEp7IU2c/s320/IMG_6298+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639964005185090" border="0" /></a><br />The only complaint of the entire weekend (besides... wait, did I already mention the traffic? ;)...) was not having Ty there to enjoy it with. But there was still a LOT of giving on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">every one's</span> part to make the afternoon of bliss happen and it was so fun and I'd <span style="font-style: italic;">~probably~</span> do it all again.<br /><br />But without the traffic. That I barely even noticed.<br /><br />Ahem.<br /><br />Anyways. With all that TRAFFIC that took us FOUR HOURS to get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">thru</span> before the real drive could EVEN START... we had a sweet little MUCH NEEDED pit stop in Santa Barbara with Auntie Marlene who fed and hydrated us, washed my filthy daughter's stinky little feet, and showed us to her neighborhood playground where the kids blew off <span style="font-style: italic;">GOBS OF ENERGY PREVIOUSLY CONTAINED IN THE SHRINKING CONFINES OF THE BLISTERING HOT CAR. IN LA TRAFFIC</span>. Traffic sucks. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Heh</span>. I think <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">I'm</span> done now. Maybe.<br /><br />Needless to say, with all the adventure we packed in to the weekend we got home super late and our 4<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Th</span> of July plans included a bright-n-early 5k that involved driving out to the middle of the wilderness (where only escaped convicts and the witch from Hansel and Gretel call home) to run 3 miles in the sweltering heat. Do we know how to have a good time, or WHAT?!?!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdNNXBUMDdoi5JNcafoyEusmAPSo9ILba0GJ8FTrsrNlPdK-mghO8H8xagOStpXDLPTl38TBQtswDK2oniZlIkIO2Cq26tHA3Ico5Va6PK33s7aJxKvMu45FRQJxjfeyZbjvlEf88KmE/s1600/IMG_6315+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdNNXBUMDdoi5JNcafoyEusmAPSo9ILba0GJ8FTrsrNlPdK-mghO8H8xagOStpXDLPTl38TBQtswDK2oniZlIkIO2Cq26tHA3Ico5Va6PK33s7aJxKvMu45FRQJxjfeyZbjvlEf88KmE/s320/IMG_6315+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639518689730658" border="0" /></a><br />No, but seriously, it was a really really good time.<br /><br />Anabelle was the cheerleader this time around. Which was probably a good call, since she stayed at the finish line with a good friend who reported that she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">couldn't</span> even bring herself to STAND in the sun and wait for us to cross. Ha. Disaster adverted. ;) Score one point for team parents.<br /><br />Dawson was quite a contender...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QaDeHkSPe8pKei-yjK8KMozr_x4qyC3eKzbJ4PAm6AL80RFzLxSlxdfeqKxk9VoASV3rvle-pl-Rlt57wfFnY-58AuZm3RCaOCNvZs21Cw8qnjtGXTlHjhfgxh-tcYmmMTOQT6WSlXA/s1600/IMG_6313+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QaDeHkSPe8pKei-yjK8KMozr_x4qyC3eKzbJ4PAm6AL80RFzLxSlxdfeqKxk9VoASV3rvle-pl-Rlt57wfFnY-58AuZm3RCaOCNvZs21Cw8qnjtGXTlHjhfgxh-tcYmmMTOQT6WSlXA/s320/IMG_6313+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639778186444834" border="0" /></a><br />He finished under 40minutes and placed THIRD in his age group. WHATS <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">UPPPPPPP</span>!?!?!?!? I am so proud I could explode. He won some pretty cool stuff... a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">nIcE</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Asics</span> duffel bag that he already determined he can fit all the way inside of and zip the zipper... an <span style="font-style: italic;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">ExCeLLeNt</span></span> quality in a duffel bag... er... so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Im</span> told...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwYZ97EBysa6SiCho3N1XyUo9my4Puirms3JjT9B4zYO876LIw6-48VWgBjO5Lii3cxHyo0Y52Wl5nfBdrF2h13QMHzmzfxB6IUZMaDMR1rGj2wQu-gkhmtYHc92_P0J-EPAdM2V71IM/s1600/IMG_6324+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinwYZ97EBysa6SiCho3N1XyUo9my4Puirms3JjT9B4zYO876LIw6-48VWgBjO5Lii3cxHyo0Y52Wl5nfBdrF2h13QMHzmzfxB6IUZMaDMR1rGj2wQu-gkhmtYHc92_P0J-EPAdM2V71IM/s320/IMG_6324+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639514817676322" border="0" /></a><br /><br />He also won these awesome sunglasses. I ~might~ be borrowing them. Pretty often. Or we can call them 'thanks for the awesome first race, Mama!' ;) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Juuuuust</span> kidding... probably.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEganOTMOIXP1nhe8u4Bdjwg1ueHCHXRr655P7tsxw8HpFhUtRIxw2O0leBUuTJx8McosHFcEaTqlv8a1A1jyBELO7HuI4nY8_RgqrzA-Xre7raAdHSEMY54bIQdOAiB3-ejKVQ4hLMK0lo/s1600/IMG_6314+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEganOTMOIXP1nhe8u4Bdjwg1ueHCHXRr655P7tsxw8HpFhUtRIxw2O0leBUuTJx8McosHFcEaTqlv8a1A1jyBELO7HuI4nY8_RgqrzA-Xre7raAdHSEMY54bIQdOAiB3-ejKVQ4hLMK0lo/s320/IMG_6314+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639776379835986" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I also set a personal record despite the presence of my EVIL arch enemy... HOT WEATHER. Its literally <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">kryptonite</span> to my Clark Kent. I was shocked I did so well for myself, but ILL TAKE IT! After the race there was a tasty breakfast and lots of other cool prizes. We left with some fun loot. Its a cool tradition. Or a hot tradition. You know what I mean.<br /><br />We stopped by Grammies on the way home to cool off...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjldC6SDI6o1URVPxq0aUavAcmTH9SZkFBRSgaiFFaUsrPaHPYiBcHrXqUd6ICadpAY5cOG39obn2j3_wKXTokz5ThONDs_Lg7scd7xRPNdG-f-0xA96oL8q1kW4fV6BeqJaV_i1fhg1V0/s1600/IMG_6326+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjldC6SDI6o1URVPxq0aUavAcmTH9SZkFBRSgaiFFaUsrPaHPYiBcHrXqUd6ICadpAY5cOG39obn2j3_wKXTokz5ThONDs_Lg7scd7xRPNdG-f-0xA96oL8q1kW4fV6BeqJaV_i1fhg1V0/s320/IMG_6326+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639503041802114" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Man, are we <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">bonafide</span> country folk or WHAT!?!<br /><br />If the boot fits... ;)<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Grammie</span> does a really great job giving any holiday or occasion a festive flare... our country's birthday was no exception.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVAWKkdsFbMwKJwPlbJYi7e672Yexx6l5YLfqu9JtLlHN9ibZXvTAAccozC_yeFGFKH0u7W5NJwwmUIV9a0NVnnjslyq8WrfoaqYMJHUDoh4Nr7BGP1ddFEtLyRJYlmuLD-Rc6qLLXJZo/s1600/IMG_6331+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVAWKkdsFbMwKJwPlbJYi7e672Yexx6l5YLfqu9JtLlHN9ibZXvTAAccozC_yeFGFKH0u7W5NJwwmUIV9a0NVnnjslyq8WrfoaqYMJHUDoh4Nr7BGP1ddFEtLyRJYlmuLD-Rc6qLLXJZo/s320/IMG_6331+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639503846214098" border="0" /></a><br /><br />There are more pictures of the food spread because <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">I'm</span> one of those weirdos who likes food <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">por</span>... I mean pictures... But my computer is being lame so maybe if I get ambitious later Ill upload them. Don't wait by your laptop tho.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcvK4KKKP1QK9ngpv6S6eyoLkMwN8Gwxs84Y0uBxSeSfH9Ix391UoUymmXGUlaorcWhrzYUGwfTuoMGqlvj_lFV5AXno712fSurYP0d_Kj1cfsgPhNVUMVAa6klTSXCYgiDxjsjlNN7sg/s1600/IMG_6336+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcvK4KKKP1QK9ngpv6S6eyoLkMwN8Gwxs84Y0uBxSeSfH9Ix391UoUymmXGUlaorcWhrzYUGwfTuoMGqlvj_lFV5AXno712fSurYP0d_Kj1cfsgPhNVUMVAa6klTSXCYgiDxjsjlNN7sg/s320/IMG_6336+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625639494431290066" border="0" /></a>By the end of the festivities we were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">SOO</span> TIRED we came crawling home and everyone took naps before Ty had to work. <span style="font-style: italic;">Hallelujah</span> (sang the heavenly hosts)<span style="font-style: italic;">!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br /><br />It was a great weekend, and I am so so so thankful for safety on the road as we passed so many horrible accidents and stranded travelers... and also, for what its worth, I am thankful to be an American despite our country's quirks and imperfections. My children drink clean water and pray to our God any time and any where they want, America is BEAUTIFUL, and there are men and women willing to die to protect our countless freedoms and allow us sleep each night.<br /><br />Hope everyone had a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">hot dog</span> and a beer, and managed to find some sparks in their day somehow.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">xo</span>Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-1676078162629293042011-06-27T08:16:00.000-07:002011-06-27T09:41:39.049-07:00Kids These DaysSo, last month our awful cat disappeared.<br /><br />She just wandered off into the hills, and was never seen or heard from again. Ah, sweet relief. That's probably the nicest thing she's ever... oops, i mean, we've all been utterly devastated and searching around the clock for her to no avail.<br /><br />I was beginning to enjoy not having to get up in the middle of the night to swat her off the screen outside our bedroom window she regularly climbs while moaning like a laboring zombie when she wants in at 2am. I was getting used to the idea of not having to rake the logs out of the landscaping bark outside our front door that she decided were more inviting than her litter box. I was noticing how nice it was to not have to vacuum clumps of matted cat hair stuck to whatever area of carpet looked freshest.<br /><br />But then. One beautiful sunshiny morning as we walked out of Target... one of Tyson's co-workers mysteriously ambushed us outside the store as we were heading to load our car- holding...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">A KITTEN.</span><br /><br />Its almost as if it had been pre-arranged somehow. But I know that's not possible, since Tyson and I had repeatedly discussed all the disadvantages (there are so so so many!!) of cat ownership, and how it was delightful to be rid of the chains once and for all. It was pure happenstance... <span style="font-style: italic;">odd coincidence!</span>... and this poor kitten soul needed a home, <span style="font-style: italic;">immediately!!</span>, or surely she would perish and a jewel would be removed from our heavenly crown for our lack of compassion on one of God's creatures.<br /><br />Anyways. This blog is not supposed to be about the spawn, I mean kitten.<br /><br />Its about how adorable my kids are-<br /><br />There was a knock on the door and 'someone' left a suspicious box.<br /><br />Dawson immediately tore it open, and scooped her up,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HF2Yo1XQe_pR_FyaGCuPB85KU26m0zEmeZ-dcmhAapoZ4PPeH_99O90Np6phCgIVxFDsfWvKUmALDMi-2MS0c1XvsmzRSKCR0so5459pG1JdW1qTyItE_G-_y8p63xLbRFwlOepQRZs/s1600/IMG_6237+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_HF2Yo1XQe_pR_FyaGCuPB85KU26m0zEmeZ-dcmhAapoZ4PPeH_99O90Np6phCgIVxFDsfWvKUmALDMi-2MS0c1XvsmzRSKCR0so5459pG1JdW1qTyItE_G-_y8p63xLbRFwlOepQRZs/s320/IMG_6237+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928655250357602" border="0" /></a>with Anabelle hot on his tail, I mean trail...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3ahqACjZWh4wuMQVy_sCYIK5PLzHwshiaza76j6W6f9SYUrG_KNpBSO4Y8lC1sPczdRGNJkHsNV4gWhEiK0BfDpGX82aMQRmlpT8bRVM25Ysh-qQCLcqV2DJAJwnZt2xKWfuRz6p9lg/s1600/IMG_6239+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3ahqACjZWh4wuMQVy_sCYIK5PLzHwshiaza76j6W6f9SYUrG_KNpBSO4Y8lC1sPczdRGNJkHsNV4gWhEiK0BfDpGX82aMQRmlpT8bRVM25Ysh-qQCLcqV2DJAJwnZt2xKWfuRz6p9lg/s320/IMG_6239+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622931034019647922" border="0" /></a><br />They were pretty excited.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbsAX-NXsYwucau2fG1L0CHsFBSMT1SZg_ZLF9go0NjfKn9rJXTHkjFvOKBhyGrkFH0Qb0-tpVCF9uqY3hTXTsyJzsH6zvEl7dp3B-ufOXrnEI7V__I3db-9VOv9exPCRpyHsWRFuIv8/s1600/IMG_6241+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbsAX-NXsYwucau2fG1L0CHsFBSMT1SZg_ZLF9go0NjfKn9rJXTHkjFvOKBhyGrkFH0Qb0-tpVCF9uqY3hTXTsyJzsH6zvEl7dp3B-ufOXrnEI7V__I3db-9VOv9exPCRpyHsWRFuIv8/s320/IMG_6241+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928645222503410" border="0" /></a><br />Then, without any prompting what-so-ever... Anabelle pipes up...<br /><br />"I think Dawson gets to name her, because I got to name the last kitten."<br /><br />He thanked her, and not 5 seconds later said very matter of fact "Her name is Rosemary." As if he'd been thinking about it all his life and had never been more certain.<br /><br />Both kids have really been enjoying her, but Dawson is especially adoring.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMNrtLZHVl711pDkyTgt28Nf7BnuiFNB6boSd-fYC9wZwGvcqIy3DAaiacrxOZNJUNJDEQo7ZGqacPIWJkxQctZwzMdrajY7x9w4PiF6LLmBA2QlTwkVynAExt8dLcevOOy3tBYfWQwY/s1600/IMG_6246+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMNrtLZHVl711pDkyTgt28Nf7BnuiFNB6boSd-fYC9wZwGvcqIy3DAaiacrxOZNJUNJDEQo7ZGqacPIWJkxQctZwzMdrajY7x9w4PiF6LLmBA2QlTwkVynAExt8dLcevOOy3tBYfWQwY/s320/IMG_6246+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928639037649378" border="0" /></a><br />He thinks about her constantly.<br /><br />He worries that she will be lonely, or cold, or get lost in the garage she is banished to sleep in.<br /><br />He doesn't want to leave the house because she can't come with us everywhere we go, and when we finally get home, he races to rescue her and acts like its the first time they've met all over again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgnS2atfImxvSYGVqWytA08FIXUnS6X6-lJ6kZ3YyV69YPaD-B_T7CxyRqDUo0R22A7UE8M_BP-YwD8gXVoj6sRXGrUrnDrmLI6qzZQX7oVp5rsafrpbsi6MI85LN-QE69oKeVS5al1w/s1600/IMG_6253+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgnS2atfImxvSYGVqWytA08FIXUnS6X6-lJ6kZ3YyV69YPaD-B_T7CxyRqDUo0R22A7UE8M_BP-YwD8gXVoj6sRXGrUrnDrmLI6qzZQX7oVp5rsafrpbsi6MI85LN-QE69oKeVS5al1w/s320/IMG_6253+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928385356620658" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday he made her a present...<br /><br />A scratching box.<br /><br />Tyson says its marketing brainwash at its finest and that perhaps we've allowed a little too much time on the electronic devices in our household... but I personally think its a testimony of how brilliant, creative, and caring our lovely little boy is (duh!).<br /><br />First, he tied some string to the box 'to get her frisky.'<br /><br />Then, he drew instructions:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdLFpJkqJj2xz0v31L0K8lmnlLGBhkxhik2mQqOQ6JPuHVeCUoRwoYUcFhB-f4Ygi08xg4te3y5gzfnAuMLLJ1835Ow6HDExlVdVlTvzZZ97u-milrNN6vv3iih9PoPKYnc4rQfnL-cA/s1600/IMG_6260+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdLFpJkqJj2xz0v31L0K8lmnlLGBhkxhik2mQqOQ6JPuHVeCUoRwoYUcFhB-f4Ygi08xg4te3y5gzfnAuMLLJ1835Ow6HDExlVdVlTvzZZ97u-milrNN6vv3iih9PoPKYnc4rQfnL-cA/s320/IMG_6260+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928365251449842" border="0" /></a><br />1. No standing on the box.<br /><br />2. No cutting the box with scissors.<br /><br />3. No zzzzzz<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>sleeping zzzzz<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>on the box,<br /><br />4. (Stick figured) Kittens only.<br /><br /><br />Seems pretty reasonable to me.<br /><br />Then, so as not to waste valuable advertising space, theres an added bonus!<br /><br />This scratching box received a <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">5 star customer rating!!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QJdUvAmJr-JwFZco-ulggyk95hZlrW0g1-B60tOkhhIhgPoQ4cmV1F4URqCUB8FxxSEY0Wa7C5nCLJ-m5Dqy4nZVgkMyDEerhkr_90WNWAYGrgyiIF2JjVLXUh6vTEL81YlW2ABbum4/s1600/IMG_6259+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QJdUvAmJr-JwFZco-ulggyk95hZlrW0g1-B60tOkhhIhgPoQ4cmV1F4URqCUB8FxxSEY0Wa7C5nCLJ-m5Dqy4nZVgkMyDEerhkr_90WNWAYGrgyiIF2JjVLXUh6vTEL81YlW2ABbum4/s320/IMG_6259+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928372120491938" border="0" /></a><br />And also, loyal customers are eligible to win big prizes. Somehow.<br /><br />So. freaking. awesome.<br /><br />This kid doesn't miss a singe detail of his surroundings. We've never discussed the 'instruction labels' on the shopping carts or on product merchandise at all, but obviously he's on to them.<br /><br />And... 5 star rating?<br /><br />Thats just funny stuff right there.<br /><br />These kids are a riot. They are proving hard to keep occupied so far this summer because they just want to <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />DO EVERYTHING!</span><br /><br />And <span style="font-style: italic;">BE EVERYWHERE!</span><br /><br />And they're always dirty and never <span style="font-style: italic;">ever</span> tired.<br /><br />Hopefully Rosemary will be a good summer babysitter, oops, I mean companion for the both of them.<br /><br />And hopefully one day our marriage will recover from the <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">ultimate betrayal.</span> </span><br /><br />Although, I must admit, it will be hard to stay mad for long at something that makes my kids look this happy...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsQjKA6wspHneS2_0E8Elk9cy_QLvmrHjnNxPkHCsXaqVo0OgyvshmpW9W4szkCA9svbkQeneff_GZbo9CVXY1bAypX-nEVD4AnJ0MgkcQr7o-_Fe63x6u_WZL4q5mKbfdrO-YipeIkw/s1600/IMG_6248+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsQjKA6wspHneS2_0E8Elk9cy_QLvmrHjnNxPkHCsXaqVo0OgyvshmpW9W4szkCA9svbkQeneff_GZbo9CVXY1bAypX-nEVD4AnJ0MgkcQr7o-_Fe63x6u_WZL4q5mKbfdrO-YipeIkw/s320/IMG_6248+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622928390061970722" border="0" /></a><br /><3 <3 <3 <3 <3Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-4115328115649519302011-06-11T20:28:00.000-07:002011-06-11T22:42:53.809-07:00Whirlwinds of ChangeWhen I was a new mom, and just learning to adapt to all the drastic life changes that brought along with it, I would often let my mind wander a year or two down the road... toward the flicker of hope in a time when the kids would be less dependent on a constant basis. When I could eat a meal with both hands again, or without being interrupted mid-spoonful by a starving infant. When I could finish a conversation with the friend I had bumped in to without having to rush home for an afternoon nap schedule. When I could take a shower without the fear of the world's most daring baby climbing out of his crib and falling onto his head and I wouldn't even be there to hear his screams.<br /><br />Recently, I'm realizing these 'less dependent' days... they aren't coming anytime soon. Maybe not <span style="font-style: italic;">ever</span>. While all the above issues are no longer top concerns, I have entirely brand new sets of crisis management training skills ranging from "were late for gymnastics and I can't find a leotard that doesn't have magic marker all over it" to "why can't I wear my roller skates in the grocery store... past this display case of glass bottles?"So life is exciting round here! Its a whirlwind. But I've noticed how I've stopped looking down the road, and started to really breathe in the scenery as its flying past.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxddkJuXNK-UcxvP0wc_d80JVtLfwY9rMD6n0vQKUmo7mizo1LP8qjTfA7oSWQd5hOgd5qs2ubdt7AaXxpUK77wWAZ7lhvwPdPctLV2wmgLIIGqPWLrJfPGMJJhIYJsnk8yCVgS1rbE0/s1600/IMG_6088+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxddkJuXNK-UcxvP0wc_d80JVtLfwY9rMD6n0vQKUmo7mizo1LP8qjTfA7oSWQd5hOgd5qs2ubdt7AaXxpUK77wWAZ7lhvwPdPctLV2wmgLIIGqPWLrJfPGMJJhIYJsnk8yCVgS1rbE0/s320/IMG_6088+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617199721740440322" border="0" /></a><br />Tomorrow and someday arent a daydream anymore... they are TODAY! Right now! We are enjoying these moments!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9uwzJVnBNlvcPJy3aQyqM4l1DqQz2lMj9ZIXDoWdg-WfbIfA_xCKmnf5AnwJsth4raNwAuoLNNzYWttIMJ5DokuHoPANestDXqDvF0G_8grvcYGSGCIJwz_2O1JNyk9EUqNAC5jZoKI/s1600/IMG_6089+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9uwzJVnBNlvcPJy3aQyqM4l1DqQz2lMj9ZIXDoWdg-WfbIfA_xCKmnf5AnwJsth4raNwAuoLNNzYWttIMJ5DokuHoPANestDXqDvF0G_8grvcYGSGCIJwz_2O1JNyk9EUqNAC5jZoKI/s320/IMG_6089+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617199725679495346" border="0" /></a><br />I was remembering that a blink ago I was sitting here blogging about Dawson's first day of first grade with a glass of wine and tears on my keyboard because I just wasn't sure he was ready. I didn't know if he was strong enough to handle the demands and challenges of first grade. It honestly was a really tough transition for us, but then, suddenly, it was Christmas vacation, and then oh! Where did March come from?! And then it was May! And then, my little sea star was saying goodbye to all his first grade buddys and his 'stern and demanding' first grade teacher... who actually ran such a tight ship that I'm proud to say confidently, my baby boy is the most confident, effective reader/speller that I've had the pleasure of knowing. With the neatest handwriting, and correct grammar and punctuation, and a strong sense of self confidence in his gift for drawing because of the recognition and encouragement he received throughout the year from his 'tough' teacher.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_NYFX_70h_aPkyWatD5TmgXHsg_ziMlNEOCuDpQv-_qo8_tLPP8YxU3j7d-n53Hdn8qFBeOmQWWFIAivd8CLyIMGKDpsv1-7bnSDBNvNEsnyKTJfAzV3qfSl1NnBZA53t59dRU8DYWQ/s1600/IMG_6190+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_NYFX_70h_aPkyWatD5TmgXHsg_ziMlNEOCuDpQv-_qo8_tLPP8YxU3j7d-n53Hdn8qFBeOmQWWFIAivd8CLyIMGKDpsv1-7bnSDBNvNEsnyKTJfAzV3qfSl1NnBZA53t59dRU8DYWQ/s320/IMG_6190+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617194965105049346" border="0" /></a><br />This year made me realize all the more, teachers have the hardest job. And I appreciate that this one recognized she wasnt there to be my kid's friend, but to teach him about the potential within and the standard we learn by. Tough lessons, but ever so valuable. I'd call it a successful year.<br /><br />Fun side note~ every morning we would wait til very last thing to comb Dawson's hair, and he'd beg me in my frazzled <span style="font-style: italic;">get-your-coat-on-stand-up-look-at-me-dont-forget-your-lunch-box</span> mom state to "<span style="font-style: italic;">puh-leeeeeze make him hair like Two Face on Batman</span>." I'd say... "uh, <span style="font-weight: bold;">no.</span>" Because... I dunno... I wish I could be that uninhibited artsy mom that says 'be who you are! Who cares! Let them stare!,' but really, <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">care</span>... and I didnt want him looking like he came to first grade straight from a night on the Las Vegas strip. On the last day of school... I finally caved...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGq8qTS65nkRILuiWhsqs4yxT1ozub8Da7wbZ7Lovxmi8nXO2Z7WKnaKzU_a4zgwEH1PyqaqtITxN7EGkoA1ISV2SD8-IkL3TmR7GJ5YcrHWbjYvhsMsUmJ6I0qwjYgy7qprs7uPQ7p14/s1600/IMG_6196+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGq8qTS65nkRILuiWhsqs4yxT1ozub8Da7wbZ7Lovxmi8nXO2Z7WKnaKzU_a4zgwEH1PyqaqtITxN7EGkoA1ISV2SD8-IkL3TmR7GJ5YcrHWbjYvhsMsUmJ6I0qwjYgy7qprs7uPQ7p14/s320/IMG_6196+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617194955516472850" border="0" /></a>Cutest little wanna-be villain around. I'd say we definitely upstaged last years mohawk. ;)<br /><br />Anabelle also is at a milestone, with her final day of pre-K last Thusday. Thats it untill Kindergarten for her~ she's SO beyond ready! That girl is <span style="font-style: italic;">also</span> a reading/writing machine. I was speechless the other day (a first for me!) when she picked up Green Eggs and Ham and started <span style="font-style: italic;">sight reading from the middle of the book</span>... FIVE whole pages without help. WHAT!?<br /><br />They had a promotion chapel last week, so the daycare kids and I took a little field trip... we busted Dawson out of school and met both my parents and Tyson's mom at the event. Anabelle planned her whole outfit, and wore her flower girl gown and her princess tiara from the Bibbity Bobbity Boutique at Disneyland for the special occasion... and she acted every bit the part she dressed to play. They recognized each kid for a character trait that stood out in them, and my daughter was awarded for her encouragement to others. Beams of pride from her dad and I.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuSEd40MoyyaL0M_kWiiX8uTOeDB5HBzHWwBGiElntQJjR2G5-3Et3bXgqBoQfNUHQNnG3uU_WIcXKQtohReh4kzCrsswxhm59ehGftYEcpLeC7SrcK9Yx5DmwiVmTX9-p4N2NaCXD5E/s1600/IMG_6161+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtuSEd40MoyyaL0M_kWiiX8uTOeDB5HBzHWwBGiElntQJjR2G5-3Et3bXgqBoQfNUHQNnG3uU_WIcXKQtohReh4kzCrsswxhm59ehGftYEcpLeC7SrcK9Yx5DmwiVmTX9-p4N2NaCXD5E/s320/IMG_6161+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617194972758346290" border="0" /></a>Then they called out each name, and when they handed them the promotion certificate they asked into the microphone "What do you want to be when you grow up?"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcN4um8X9rQkBUmxWbWajZsW3gqAxvnWE_cg5K-XjkNmp7WtAi5VEsrlHPwZfixrRXXI1n5XQObQz5lO8TCgtdU-gmlmwsksnyuBYOGdqyVG_oU9SN9QTrObKDYthkOjpMST2VrMsiNL0/s1600/IMG_6152+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcN4um8X9rQkBUmxWbWajZsW3gqAxvnWE_cg5K-XjkNmp7WtAi5VEsrlHPwZfixrRXXI1n5XQObQz5lO8TCgtdU-gmlmwsksnyuBYOGdqyVG_oU9SN9QTrObKDYthkOjpMST2VrMsiNL0/s320/IMG_6152+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617195272842864226" border="0" /></a><br />The little heartfelt responses were so moving and so thoughtful and sincere... some hilarious, some sweet... some completely unrealistic but charming just the same.<br /><br />One child said a doctor. One said a captain of a ship. There were future firemen, poliece men, teachers, ladybugs, even vampires... one quirky soul said "bone collector" and gave us all a good laugh (and some food for thought).<br /><br />My daughter's big announcement: she's going to be a princess, naturally (I know you're SHOCKED).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7jJ6FmlTJUfix1rAm9gWn6BizUlTlKe1AD8plFUioZ6S5haqsWkLWS17tD1Vxy_VgM_BFwjSU6JxXRPRcayFplbFCgiL4miJGbHQRxU2OibSlQ1ceSW8SY0T5P_vAQxS5hmA7ekD7_k/s1600/IMG_6171+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7jJ6FmlTJUfix1rAm9gWn6BizUlTlKe1AD8plFUioZ6S5haqsWkLWS17tD1Vxy_VgM_BFwjSU6JxXRPRcayFplbFCgiL4miJGbHQRxU2OibSlQ1ceSW8SY0T5P_vAQxS5hmA7ekD7_k/s320/IMG_6171+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617194972419718402" border="0" /></a>Maybe its time to stop replaying the recaps of the royal wedding for us to watch together on YouTube... and TYSON! The beauty sleep mask from the dollar store you surprised her with- NOT HELPING THE ISSUE!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoO54x9pRURZEK8tuShDiq9gZLe_ewz9VPpGuGjgmEQmtApZB72zL76HK8BZf6jqV_axd_fbwDmu8RhM2RqvGNq4NLJdK3seEnEmTLKMPd5G0MDglckvOxH0-Xh-Pi2Lzn_xotR9jieEY/s1600/IMG_6193+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoO54x9pRURZEK8tuShDiq9gZLe_ewz9VPpGuGjgmEQmtApZB72zL76HK8BZf6jqV_axd_fbwDmu8RhM2RqvGNq4NLJdK3seEnEmTLKMPd5G0MDglckvOxH0-Xh-Pi2Lzn_xotR9jieEY/s320/IMG_6193+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617194961207472706" border="0" /></a>(Actual conversation after the promotion...)<br /><br />Me: "So, Anabelle... what exactly do princesses DO?"<br />Anabelle: "Oh, well, they like to clean and stuff."<br />Me: "Well. I suppose I'm definitely a princess then?"<br />Anabelle (rolls eyes!): "NO, Mom. You never clean ANYTHING!!"<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">i give up.</span><br /><br />So ya. Shes charged with plenty of personality to go around, and ready to roll right in to kindergarten with her posse of preschool pals. A good handful of the younger siblings from Dawson's class will be in her grade, and another good handful from around the block. Its strange how many more familiar faces there will be the second (and last) time we do the first day of kindergarten. Definitely not rushing these lazy days of summer, realizing that after this there is no going back: we will officially have 2 school aged children.<br /><br />So that brings us to the official start of summer! Ty will be home a lot more, he gets a whole week and then some off in July. Its great to have him around, he is such a help with the kids and the daycare and just in general around the house.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyhzK6in2rTPAaegk06l2-rqJs9Ine8xBPKAzS8iMdMxjc2GdTISQ1_GT_oEahdj4iwxcnykyAHwh55BWDGl4EzVW-jh-0xBgRAa1wSnEOPImNkhMjkc497iizt5G_qtXsAKQ5jjzluA/s1600/IMG_6135+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyhzK6in2rTPAaegk06l2-rqJs9Ine8xBPKAzS8iMdMxjc2GdTISQ1_GT_oEahdj4iwxcnykyAHwh55BWDGl4EzVW-jh-0xBgRAa1wSnEOPImNkhMjkc497iizt5G_qtXsAKQ5jjzluA/s320/IMG_6135+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617195276686741186" border="0" /></a>Its a good thing, too. With these little monsters, I need all the help I can get. (Gulp!)Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-58727639025330478952011-05-17T09:32:00.000-07:002011-05-17T11:14:18.738-07:00Close CallSo, don't be alarmed, but I have some disturbing news.<br /><br />Yesterday, seemingly out nowhere, our house suddenly and mysteriously<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> burst into flames!</span> Well, OK, technically it was our <span style="font-style: italic;">playhouse</span>...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1nG-F8TZlQb9-7PKAAku00dZRmJiTT4eqiUy3z5PyMmY9miWNT86NfXSiCl-7dMWSxJGsZoirqU2fM1Xu7T7D9CpaBKku2kutUqhlXxeQZnMLMc5kw70Ewa6NVmqHTznEvIEL99zC7U/s1600/IMG_5993+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK1nG-F8TZlQb9-7PKAAku00dZRmJiTT4eqiUy3z5PyMmY9miWNT86NfXSiCl-7dMWSxJGsZoirqU2fM1Xu7T7D9CpaBKku2kutUqhlXxeQZnMLMc5kw70Ewa6NVmqHTznEvIEL99zC7U/s320/IMG_5993+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607730369194975442" border="0" /></a>...the flames were so intense they were almost impossible to see... ;)<br /><br />It was really touch and go for awhile, and a pretty close call over all, but FORTUNATELY, we all got out in time, and its looking like the structure may be salvageable.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIJrTif9fRlTvE7QCN0cEd_KbsodcL6c4-INr3vBPbiVUMWimqjbMOmmvpPw1SRCbGXBIPBtRtYnJQ4TkERHYWddWrEZaDVGGOQiw3WeoFVbePS6b3ggP2u6djCylOfsCBqY0ZZbceyI/s1600/IMG_5992+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFIJrTif9fRlTvE7QCN0cEd_KbsodcL6c4-INr3vBPbiVUMWimqjbMOmmvpPw1SRCbGXBIPBtRtYnJQ4TkERHYWddWrEZaDVGGOQiw3WeoFVbePS6b3ggP2u6djCylOfsCBqY0ZZbceyI/s320/IMG_5992+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607730374887395986" border="0" /></a>The smoke inhalation alone was nearly unbearable, but thanks to the heroic bravery and quick thinking of 2 of the most adorable firefighters I have ever laid eyes on, nobody was seriously injured.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgsdowCTaBbK3SJ4hsoafR8eSvEkma3Hf0kivFUSmDkbXYPd-VqhqWJktgWLQ6RIiGXhRhClvu81sL3o06JqvQKU0tw2HJTXi-r0l8xGeyuQwSXhYgVChzxKaH11YLysK-2sISP4LJVo/s1600/IMG_5998+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgsdowCTaBbK3SJ4hsoafR8eSvEkma3Hf0kivFUSmDkbXYPd-VqhqWJktgWLQ6RIiGXhRhClvu81sL3o06JqvQKU0tw2HJTXi-r0l8xGeyuQwSXhYgVChzxKaH11YLysK-2sISP4LJVo/s320/IMG_5998+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607729287882019490" border="0" /></a><br />How did they do it, you may ask?<br /><br />When the measures of mere garden hoses alone weren't enough to vanquish the flames, Captain Dawson keenly recalled an age-old trick that's said to save lives every time... PULL THE ALARM!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRikA1T_4qC5Ef6hBIgVOiTmtc4miQ6TJ0LmfUJFeCAwF6v4Ri43Xtyb_4P8dc5o9_7AYJLF7_Gg2eUVhER86Fr01GnwSMN0GEaDZjerr4x5uvu32UmXzTFP5RiJ0A-so3PWjYxReNkY/s1600/IMG_6003+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRikA1T_4qC5Ef6hBIgVOiTmtc4miQ6TJ0LmfUJFeCAwF6v4Ri43Xtyb_4P8dc5o9_7AYJLF7_Gg2eUVhER86Fr01GnwSMN0GEaDZjerr4x5uvu32UmXzTFP5RiJ0A-so3PWjYxReNkY/s320/IMG_6003+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607729272802175794" border="0" /></a><br />...but alas, there was no alarm to be pulled. So... he drew one! And the flames magically went out! And I am proud to announce, we all learned a valuable lesson on fire safety and being prepared~ our playhouse is now officially up to code. Or at least it was until today's rain, when the chalk washed off. ;)<br /><br />Thankfully, my garden was not harmed in the tumultuous process of the fight. Which I am eternally grateful for, since I have already replaced my tomato plants- <span style="font-style: italic;">twice</span>- due to the later frosts this season (or my over-eager welcoming of Spring, your call).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz58A4vS8aJOGy24Urqv-si-7NQT9gZQdXh96Dh2mMbdA5j9T7-Q_k1ojlCvR65YCuOyAyYLiBShF4dmnkQLSfUA8pNc_BDcmIRY0XTSuhWY_V8Xo9_20wGR_YSohgd_QyjoNUbbSd0Ro/s1600/IMG_6002+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz58A4vS8aJOGy24Urqv-si-7NQT9gZQdXh96Dh2mMbdA5j9T7-Q_k1ojlCvR65YCuOyAyYLiBShF4dmnkQLSfUA8pNc_BDcmIRY0XTSuhWY_V8Xo9_20wGR_YSohgd_QyjoNUbbSd0Ro/s320/IMG_6002+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607729279577851090" border="0" /></a><br />My Mom picked me up a couple bigger sized plants from <a href="http://calpolynews.calpoly.edu/news_releases/2009/March/Tomato.html">Cal Poly's annual tomato plant</a> sale (which is a brilliant resource, so I'm told). If these new guys die off... I might just give up and start eating chemical produce for the rest of eternity in a rage of protest against Mother Nature.<br /><br />In addition to 2 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">varietys</span> of organic heirloom <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">tomatos</span>, we have strawberries (already producing), blackberries, sweet peas (already producing), onions, parsley, basil, and chives so far.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZdT_am0y9nBJ3CG1Cs4M7GeZJxKeaOSGovevERUwaAdjbqV_rX18yQr0ItjeH2BEhnY4GdEwsLceBbYixJfFQB_6Ha6wAgbtF-y8MISp19ewIXweoIBGrugjdEwue-UWWfwpt9hWqQI/s1600/IMG_6001+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZdT_am0y9nBJ3CG1Cs4M7GeZJxKeaOSGovevERUwaAdjbqV_rX18yQr0ItjeH2BEhnY4GdEwsLceBbYixJfFQB_6Ha6wAgbtF-y8MISp19ewIXweoIBGrugjdEwue-UWWfwpt9hWqQI/s320/IMG_6001+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607729284048307922" border="0" /></a>I'm also really excited about our artichokes! The plant was teeny when I bought it a couple seasons ago, I had almost given up on it as it seemed to be unhappy and/or slow growing for ages. But then, all of a sudden! there were these little beauty's just happy as can be and all but begging to be picked and eaten at once! Dawson is obsessed with artichokes, and the plant was his idea to begin with, so he got the honor of the first harvest. He said it was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">delish</span>, and we are all looking forward to trying them out for ourselves shortly!<br /><br />And last but not least... in other "organic and home farming news" (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Haha</span>, do I sound like I know what I'm doing now <span style="font-style: italic;">or what?!</span> Fooled ya!)... my parents are taking another <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">brave attempt</span> at <span style="font-style: italic;">Operation Organic Eggs</span>. They had a coop a year or 2 ago, and we all really enjoyed watching the chicks grow into laying hens. The parts they (my parents) did<span style="font-weight: bold;"> NOT</span> enjoy were the initial workload of keeping the hatch-lings warm/fed/watered/nurtured, waiting around for the girls to get old enough to be busy little egg layers... and the part where the night predators quickly figured out how to break into the hen house and decapitate all the little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">cluckers</span> in a bloody massacre while the rest of the world slept peacefully. JUST as I was getting used to ingesting brown eggs with fluorescent orange yolks, too! Darn you, varmints!<br /><br />So my handy dad built a super-coop. I wish I had pictures, no words do it justice. Maybe in another blog, tho no promises with my flaky blogging tendencies these days.<br /><br />And mom found a lady who cut a deal on a batch of half grown chicks and threw in a couple full grown layers, too. So we're back in business!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUEICh9RmrUFVQM4Gvpwgxj8OOOWcR1KS2DxFTmvsoR53SMtexO16ggsaiXhwV0l-tXqqqtX7szuyjjH3mG4y_WdxWwUhu_MjYTLN3QRNqIastx6wZfeXH5tATHtZNi8dVwhkc440mmQ/s1600/IMG_5988+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUEICh9RmrUFVQM4Gvpwgxj8OOOWcR1KS2DxFTmvsoR53SMtexO16ggsaiXhwV0l-tXqqqtX7szuyjjH3mG4y_WdxWwUhu_MjYTLN3QRNqIastx6wZfeXH5tATHtZNi8dVwhkc440mmQ/s320/IMG_5988+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607742834722091938" border="0" /></a>All this to say- my daughter looks SO cute holding those Lil peepers.<br /><br />Dawson hasn't seen them yet.<br /><br />If the weather ever starts co-operating, its shaping up to be a fun summer down home on the range.<br /><br />Stay tuned! <span style="font-style: italic;">Carly is married! I signed up and paid for my first <a href="http://www.ci.san-luis-obispo.ca.us/parksandrecreation/slotriathlon.asp">triathlon</a>! 10 year class reunion plans in the mix! Anniversary trips! Weddings! Babies!</span> OH MY!<br /><br />There is so much to be thankful for, and so much to look forward to ahead.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">xo</span>Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-29028773745110869622011-05-08T15:54:00.000-07:002011-05-08T21:12:45.040-07:00Being Their Mother<div><div><div><div>This morning I woke up early and set out for a nice long run with a dear friend.</div><div> </div><div>When I got home, Ty and the kids had made a delicious breakfast burrito feast with all the trimmings, and built a shrine of flowers, cards, and home made gifts in my honor.</div><div> </div><div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604487337253962274" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLm7mTVk5V4qiKg9vPaqXoBOV0hWtSXaJ4VBQV1XUFLbD-XV5RRAtGxygX-tpa7wfANWHkVvD9yiEF1wLdpBFFCdd5wH_JT9f6yMXFIr4bLHapbg_LkioboRRBtMu6jxGeS9Qrrbv-tc/s320/IMG_5867+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div> One of the sweet joys of the kids getting older is seeing certain traits pop out that remind you of yourself or your spouse. Dawson LOVES presents SO much he is always working on the sweetest surprises for me... and half the time, I get them a little early because he likes to spoil me and neither of us can stand to wait! I love that kid. </div><div> </div><div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 239px; height: 320px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604489282751249602" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivF8I5y_gGPoHeR8YdD4egLPMkkF96kSiNSqSx0BcZ33zfBzqouhITSAhJZewl8GrrBInvZQoQbCIw0yvLvG5Wp9ExJX34SHExM2tKHH9WB4SiatrCXuXRLVp74hnArpxZkIL-5-T0Cg4/s320/IMG_5860+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" border="0" /></div><div><br />He made this beautiful little card for me at school... </div><div> </div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 240px; height: 320px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604489290588575154" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_naqb4SpPkFZfERRlfSn-USwRcOc7AZjPk5D2VVXs5GCvmDzGDfkQXFfCqu2veEazkte8C20J_tjnm0Kjf0sh7dwy_1a3kdq9BDICDyTNZaQvSQOYxfXmloed7lOU1RG8733_X-FpUA/s320/IMG_5861+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" border="0" /><div><div> </div><div>Sorry, I dont know why it won't rotate, but anyways, I just about cried it was such a sweet little creation. It says:</div><div> </div><div align="center">My mother is very special.</div><div align="center">She has sparkling eye shadow, </div><div align="center">and curly hair,</div><div align="center">and a lovely smile.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">She likes to go to the gym </div><div align="center">and likes to run </div><div align="center">and go to Von(e)s.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">She makes the best fish sticks.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">She helps me make mud pies </div><div align="center">and bug pies </div><div align="center">and hot cocoa</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I like when we bake cakes</div><div align="center">and go to Round Table.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I love my special mom.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">I have to say, lately I'm exhausted. The kids have joined activities in the evenings during the week, and theres just a lot going on in general. Sometimes I just feel like there isn't enough of me to go around, and I'm not doing a good job of meeting everyone's needs. I've had to give up some little things, like blogging regularly, in attempt to make sure everyone gets lunches, and clean underwear, and homework turned in. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">But I have these 2 great kids, who keep me laughing on a daily basis, and are growing into kind and generous little people that I am so very proud of.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLm7mTVk5V4qiKg9vPaqXoBOV0hWtSXaJ4VBQV1XUFLbD-XV5RRAtGxygX-tpa7wfANWHkVvD9yiEF1wLdpBFFCdd5wH_JT9f6yMXFIr4bLHapbg_LkioboRRBtMu6jxGeS9Qrrbv-tc/s1600/IMG_5867+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 239px; height: 320px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604487346433865634" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDicZqMy_F12-swpTLk_ZuAHecNqStKVA113mLijoHWnWbJTfy1XYElIr15v115Wh6gEpew8Pj0k7fLmNcF_wYwU0TIPIGfeCxa0txoKfEWgbOC3yLd2td7EPyOcKtUwlI5F19EW0itWw/s320/IMG_5843+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div>These pics are from Easter Sunday- which was supposed to be its own post, but, you know... theres that darn time issue again, and how there isn't ever any of it.</div><div> </div><div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604487934834789858" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCujFkGqzuw3XkKPy1nrQMItII0VEw6MGP2JdhoU6biC7Y5sei57ZTm189qEdv_LfPAAIA2fVCNBkmyh5BGHMk6_K3Z5dY7GdAE5YkLt-6bKNr32qsEIU_4AP2rW4A_RCSfpJRiP7yVk/s320/IMG_5837+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>I guess what I'm saying is... I am enjoying having my cake and trying to shovel bites of it into my face as fast as I can between activities, too... but whether I am just cramming it all in as fast as I can or I actually find a moment to sit and savor each bite (which is the exception rather than the rule these days...) cake is good no matter how you can get it. And so are these kids. And so is my husband who sent me shopping yesterday so he could keep the munchkins home and make home made pencil flower crafts so they could show their love for me on Mother's day.</div><div> </div><div>I love being the mother of this family. I am so proud, and so thankful to them for giving me the honor.</div><div> </div><div>xo</div></div></div></div></div></div>Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-45442603648317707772011-03-28T09:06:00.000-07:002011-03-28T10:00:36.234-07:00My Front Porch Lookin InWhat a (lazy) weekend!<br /><br />It was kind of awesome.<br /><br />Its been raining and raining and raining.... rain makes me feel fat and lazy and like the world may never see the hope of sunshine or Spring <span style="font-style: italic;">ever again.</span> I know, drama queen. But its what the voices tell me when it rains for <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">six.days.straight.</span> and the babies run circles around me and tie me up and cast evil spells on me. And that's exactly what they do... promise!<br /><br />Saturday we spent a rainy morning in SLO as a family just wandering the streets and window shopping. We splurged and ate lunch at Firstones (SO.DELICIOUS) and took the kids to the candy store. It was a nice treat and a great family day. When we got home, Ty went to work, and I sat on the couch in my sweats with my kids and watched TV. Ahh the beauty.<br /><br />Sunday I drug my poor kids out of bed <span style="font-style: italic;">"in the middle of the night!"</span> (according to my dramatic daughter... NO idea where she gets that...) ;) and we headed up to Lopez Lake to watch these little miracle moms kick some serious triathlon tail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3F1nZ5t8uTUTP31gFd-T0RZODQ-saHdagiohwMmYxSdIsfF9XmdmXmHj_UgrtgMhycZdL4m14pcHdiHG_cXZsmoAw4GcnTLkBPObr0YOBQApP88FcthatJSSqf1iCoy7SKFVtqb4d_8/s1600/IMG_5623+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh3F1nZ5t8uTUTP31gFd-T0RZODQ-saHdagiohwMmYxSdIsfF9XmdmXmHj_UgrtgMhycZdL4m14pcHdiHG_cXZsmoAw4GcnTLkBPObr0YOBQApP88FcthatJSSqf1iCoy7SKFVtqb4d_8/s320/IMG_5623+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164932289629954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGawvTqxOulDAt6LI98tZ_vw5oH94-u9swrE0AvqgEUUMaT3gcBWUDGF3irBljRA8t0vdJb_DmsUwZGeZgtPqSXA9n18iaIOTIvWHp36NwGgZE1ToTC8l_mqsQ1Ws2FGHTdQyCNYR9Ww/s1600/IMG_5622+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGawvTqxOulDAt6LI98tZ_vw5oH94-u9swrE0AvqgEUUMaT3gcBWUDGF3irBljRA8t0vdJb_DmsUwZGeZgtPqSXA9n18iaIOTIvWHp36NwGgZE1ToTC8l_mqsQ1Ws2FGHTdQyCNYR9Ww/s320/IMG_5622+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164617797329330" border="0" /></a><br />Ya, they rule pretty hard. They've been training like rabid dogs for months now, and although I was 'invited,' I talked myself out of it this time around. I want my maiden Tri voyage to be 'fun,' and learning to swim in the rain and dark even with the luxury of a heated pool was not my definition of a good time. Bethany and Kari are seasoned swimmers and gifted athletes that never cease to encourage and inspire, and I am now (finally) SO excited to learn to swim (or at least not look like a drowning cat...) I can hardly stand it.<br /><br />But... for this race... being the cheer squad was a perfect fit...<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4S8ELbzBoeF9G-sskoNGGBWl199xzP0RueC0ZnWkTVTE2moUo_l2BPa6TMZIfhRqkKUF4wuw1a4iU1WW0lgvMy1SQ7LAR651fVY9fa-WxWN-snhWYA2SAIpWj3MmMsrxvuw2KKI9Bw4/s1600/IMG_5636+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm4S8ELbzBoeF9G-sskoNGGBWl199xzP0RueC0ZnWkTVTE2moUo_l2BPa6TMZIfhRqkKUF4wuw1a4iU1WW0lgvMy1SQ7LAR651fVY9fa-WxWN-snhWYA2SAIpWj3MmMsrxvuw2KKI9Bw4/s320/IMG_5636+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164633300160434" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3_NEpoj37rX-JZ0hzR3QbU0U7EfY1CsWxr1YK2yZsd0lAN86ZUM1c9VChn_khe72omTwbzTCJsdc_CislUuATz9648YQWwsMHw_Vi-VnNFNPPt5yflN9k-DGdfz4hDfF9-Y8uy2Wrls/s1600/IMG_5632+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje3_NEpoj37rX-JZ0hzR3QbU0U7EfY1CsWxr1YK2yZsd0lAN86ZUM1c9VChn_khe72omTwbzTCJsdc_CislUuATz9648YQWwsMHw_Vi-VnNFNPPt5yflN9k-DGdfz4hDfF9-Y8uy2Wrls/s320/IMG_5632+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164629636737298" border="0" /></a><br />My kids loved being there. I loved having an excuse to wear a tutu in public. Dawson asked me if he could do a triathlon last night. He was SO pumped he actually had himself convinced that he could swim in that lake <span style="font-style: italic;">no problem</span>! He was almost in tears when I told him he needs to give it the summer and practice a little more before I just throw him off the pier... tempting as it may seem to do it at any given moment... ;)<br /><br />When we got home Sunday, my Dad paid us a visit to make good on his Birthday present promise to me...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6hQ3Jnit1V6EvOAv55m7pwpGtfKSqAz2tjFqeRMR0ctn9WyAAy0alA-usebr0uPv-rLvszw026RMw4m7KI8e8VgG0XvtSvPGbRnKAiEZl5unHqXSE7fIYpplsnvOySV3NYkG8Najt3Z4/s1600/IMG_5665+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6hQ3Jnit1V6EvOAv55m7pwpGtfKSqAz2tjFqeRMR0ctn9WyAAy0alA-usebr0uPv-rLvszw026RMw4m7KI8e8VgG0XvtSvPGbRnKAiEZl5unHqXSE7fIYpplsnvOySV3NYkG8Najt3Z4/s320/IMG_5665+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164940184325922" border="0" /></a><br />Tah-DAHHHHH!:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFL1OKAKlYECcTQuSxQAt0IHQTlEEjt_TslQFbems7HtuQnOQ8KSzz3IafyhARchQWFljV4iDEMzcFupREXWQeHN8YXajKZlnJr6791jCNgnAvwenhvscwPqnuRiNKg-3kpRA7LYF1gV8/s1600/IMG_5666+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFL1OKAKlYECcTQuSxQAt0IHQTlEEjt_TslQFbems7HtuQnOQ8KSzz3IafyhARchQWFljV4iDEMzcFupREXWQeHN8YXajKZlnJr6791jCNgnAvwenhvscwPqnuRiNKg-3kpRA7LYF1gV8/s320/IMG_5666+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164934478005778" border="0" /></a><br />New screen door. We installed a whole house fan last summer to save energy and cut our power bill down. The fan sucks in the cool air from outside and blows the hot hair out thru the attic. In order to make it work effectively, we need to open doors and windows while we run it at the end of the day and early in the summer mornings. Having a screen door is a key element of this process, plus I LOVE that now I can open my front door and hear all the kids playing in the street in the afternoon. Such a simple joy... but I'm sure my poor Dad wouldn't be so fast to call it 'simple.' He wisely reminds me on a regular basis in all my wild ambitions..."there's no such thing as an easy project!" And when you are as meticulous and thoughtful of a craftsmen as he is, that's the absolute truth.<br /><br />Anyways, THANKS DAD! I adore the door. And you. xo<br /><br />And... I'm not the only one...<br /><br />My kids LOVE having Grandpa around.<br /><br />Playing in the back of his truck is a close second to Disneyland in the world of curious kids...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5quf-357wqe1-otaZ5ZQlNLU_0xmZd3_uV7ONwIdKc5elhKQT6vcNkd1Shct8U8uc-0_6733EVh6WigwtglwAsnkd6K5QoUb1jHG-Xig_QbpcosOtpxHVW3npN1JSNx2N_OwepfcSOM/s1600/IMG_5663+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5quf-357wqe1-otaZ5ZQlNLU_0xmZd3_uV7ONwIdKc5elhKQT6vcNkd1Shct8U8uc-0_6733EVh6WigwtglwAsnkd6K5QoUb1jHG-Xig_QbpcosOtpxHVW3npN1JSNx2N_OwepfcSOM/s320/IMG_5663+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164945263544018" border="0" /></a><br />Yep. That would be a saw blade 2 inches from their feet. Good thing we have insurance.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6EHDBahgZOro1QdPa2IclS2gDffU7xFOxGnvO2UjV4M-_Tg6vl8WMD5dIYBwplE4vgMprDawFI7tlclo_NEIDLbH_G_W2QMddaKvyyicznHqb576Q5vWiI7YIYWsAfCD_SRMV-Yl1HA/s1600/IMG_5662+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx6EHDBahgZOro1QdPa2IclS2gDffU7xFOxGnvO2UjV4M-_Tg6vl8WMD5dIYBwplE4vgMprDawFI7tlclo_NEIDLbH_G_W2QMddaKvyyicznHqb576Q5vWiI7YIYWsAfCD_SRMV-Yl1HA/s320/IMG_5662+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589164637956610482" border="0" /></a><br />Anyways- SUNSHINE is in the forecast for all this week. I may put a hit out on our local weatherman if he lied this time... (this message will self destruct....)<br /><br />Have a great week, everyone!<br /><br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-84239261033056145042011-03-25T16:36:00.000-07:002011-03-25T16:50:02.910-07:00HoneymoonDawson is officially enrolled in Karate... more on that later, but its amazing.<br /><br />Yesterday was his second class, and he begged to invite his friend (who Anabelle is particularly fond of) from across the street.<br /><br />After the lesson, we were all piled in the car heading home in the rain, and I said some lovey comment to Tyson without realizing I had an audience. I can't even remember what exactly I said now, but Anabelle pipes up from wayyy in the back seat ...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"So, what... are you guys, like, going to go on a honeymoon now or something?..."</span><br /><br />We couldn't resist a giggle and of course I dramatically leaned over and said<br /><br />"OF COURSE WE ARE! Lets run away together, TYSON!" and planted a big fat smooch on him.<br /><br />Dawson groaned in disgust as loud as he couldn manage from the backseat and said<br /><br />"GUYS. PLEASE. You are EMBARRASSING Kaeden...!!!!!!! STOP IT."<br /><br />Wow.<br /><br />How are they already this old?!?<br /><br />This could get fun.<br /><br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-80646153326881127892011-03-24T08:36:00.000-07:002011-03-24T08:57:36.077-07:00Hawaiian HaystacksAlright, I'm obsessed with food. I know,<span style="font-style: italic;"> you're all shocked.</span><br /><br />Since I'll eat anything and am not particularly refined or choosy on the kind of food I want to devour at any given moment, I don't have that many recipes worth sharing that are out of the ordinary. But that darn Bethany Sobraske is always introducing me to more excellent things than I ever thought possible in life, so not surprisingly this fantastic recipe is hers. We had it last night- its an undeniable winner.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hawaiian Haystacks<br /></span><br />Saute in a pan 3 boneless skinless chicken breasts with a pinch of olive oil and garlic until cooked thru. (You can also use pre cooked leftover chicken, or rotisserie chicken).<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br />When the breasts are cooked, add 1 can cream of chicken soup and 1/2 cup chicken broth to make a delish creamy gravy.<br /><br />Meanwhile, back at the ranch, steam up 3 cups rice of your choice. I used Jasmine, but brown rice or whatevs would work too.<br /><br />Spoon cooked rice into bowl, add generous scoop of chicken gravy lovin to the top.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">THEN COMES THE GOOD PART.</span><br /><br />Top that deliciousness with:<br /><br />Diced Celery<br />Shredded Cheese (Which I forgot to add, but didnt miss at all!)<br />Chow Mein Noodles<br />Cubed Pineapples<br />Mandarin Oranges<br />Red Bell Pepper (I used green- its what I had)<br />Shredded Coconut<br />Sliced Green Onions (Yep. Forgot to add those too... still delish without)<br />Sliced Almonds<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23XKCjplVCINlCD4iORwZ_tQB-v3Z6LFH5bDlhK8_-We72Rg6UFd0g-LuBJ7IDEwmQUyApTdXuUZfw9WQT3HhJ_4BCG0TRZH3_cbhNrE_zMR7AJIspNL5BQPPpqI2yEyv-auFbCWhNog/s1600/IMG_5615+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23XKCjplVCINlCD4iORwZ_tQB-v3Z6LFH5bDlhK8_-We72Rg6UFd0g-LuBJ7IDEwmQUyApTdXuUZfw9WQT3HhJ_4BCG0TRZH3_cbhNrE_zMR7AJIspNL5BQPPpqI2yEyv-auFbCWhNog/s320/IMG_5615+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587673754785232610" border="0" /></a>Yah, I'm that freak that takes pictures of food masterpieces.<br />You're welcome.<br />:)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">So there are kind of a lot of ingredients, but as I mentioned in my lovely recipe narration, if you don't have a few ingredients or leave a couple out, you still <span style="font-style: italic;">quite a masterpiece</span>.<br /><br />I was also pondering the fact that you could easily make this a vegetarian dish if you wanted to omit the chicken part and use cream of mushroom or some other variation instead.<br /><br />Anyways. DO THIS RECIPE. You won't be sorry.<br /><br />(Unless you eat too much of it, like I did. Burp.)<br /><br />xo<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-32217193811930288452011-03-21T19:25:00.001-07:002011-03-22T05:01:09.319-07:00PrayersI had a really sweet conversation with my son tonight as I tucked him in.<br /><br />Bedtimes have gotten pretty hectic around here as the kids get older. Its such a struggle to get everything fit in to the day, and the last 30 minutes feels almost as rushed as the first 30 minutes. Time is only going faster and faster every passing moment.<br /><br />But tonight, the hands of Father Time were as tired as I was, or so it seemed...<br /><br />I managed to master the race, and had both kids bathed, jammied, properly nourished, read to, and in bed by 7pm. I know. Insane time warp.<br /><br />This gave me a moment to just lay in bed and talk to the suddenly not-so-little boy I happen to adore so much.<br /><br />He shared about how he thought it would be <span style="font-style: italic;">so fun</span> next year when Anabelle was in Kindergarten, that he could pick her up from class and ask her how her day was, and then they could come find us or another grown up they know to get a ride home together.<br /><br />If you've ever heard my lovely son tell a tale, you know he has my gift with words (ie: he never shuts up, he will make a one word answer longer than a sleepless night with a sick baby). The way he carried on, and the enthusiasm in his voice was just<span style="font-style: italic;"> so genuine,</span> it was such a sweet thing.<br /><br />It didn't take long for Miss Anabelle to realize she was missing the party as she lonesomely pinned away for mommy time abandoned in her bedroom down the hall. Not knowing if she was invited or not, she padded cautiously into the room, clinging to the ragged blankie that is the only thing left that reminds me she is the baby of my life.<br /><br />She hopped in next to me, and Dawson sweetly goes "ANABELLE! Know what we were just talking about?..." And proceeds to tell her all about the adventures that next year will hold for her in the wondrous promised land called Kindergarten.<br /><br />I let it go on for awhile before I finally realized their stall tactic was working, and shifted the conversation towards our bedtime prayers.<br /><br />We've been praying for a lot of things at bedtime lately. Life has handed us a lot of recent opportunities to have meaningful yet sometimes difficult conversations about why people get sick and some get better and some don't (we miss our grandparents!), how you know if you are marrying the right person or not, what happens to the people after natural disasters occur, and whether we might be next on the list for tidal waves and earthquakes.<br /><br />Tonight, Anabelle started her prayer "Dear God, thank you <span style="font-style: italic;">SO much</span> that your hand is over us, that you are our Father who loves us so much... please help the people who got Tsunamied and earth-quaked. Help them to have people come and fix their homes, give them food, help them not to be sad... and please bring the dead ones back to life. Amen."<br /><br />Dawson took the reigns from there, and also offered a fervent prayer about the Tsunami victims and the people who need help in the world.<br /><br />Their prayers aren't always this meaningful, sometimes they are downright silly, but tonight they were both feeling it.<br /><br />When Dawson finished his prayer we sat for a moment in the dark, and I just drank in their smells and their soft breathing, realizing this was a special moment and I have the best kids that ever lived and that the gift of childhood doesn't last near long enough (except for on the days when you're sure it will last forever and you are a miserable failure of a parent).<br /><br />The silence hardly lasted long enough for me to finish this thought, however, because Dawson (also lost in his thoughts, evidently) screeches out of nowhere...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">"ANABELLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <span style="font-style: italic;">WHY WOULD YOU PRAY FOR PEOPLE TO COME BACK TO LIFE, ANYWAYS!?!!?</span> YOU <span style="font-style: italic;">KNOW</span> THAT CAN'T HAPPEN, and IF IT DOES, <span style="font-style: italic;">THEY ARE ZOMBIES</span>, and<span style="font-style: italic;"> THAT'S JUST GROSS AND SCARY</span>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"</span><br /><br />I have never thought I'd be changing my kids sheets because I peed their beds, but for as hard as I was laughing, it was a close call.<br /><br />I am thankful for this night.<br /><br />xoxoxoxBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-40373627555225547322011-03-15T13:34:00.000-07:002011-03-15T14:27:50.192-07:00A Winning BunchSo Dawson is really, really into 'running' since the Turkey Trot last Fall.<br /><br />We got a flier back then for the Hares N Hounds race in March that benefits our local high school booster club.<br /><br />Dawson never forgets anything. He has been begging to train for it ever since.<br /><br />And... the crazy part is... he actually follows thru with it!<br /><br />Anabelle humors him too... being the little sister that doesn't want to be left out and all... we've been doing some 'drills' in our living room...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9R7oVkPcfPgQaJq_39XDg2A0Xz3av2ZB7KAB22xVaHDOcUp7ye4QBY3EKUB5ypZI42nAcuxJjI0LplqK9mfhDgws6ZdJgxL7XSNh8AYN4Mid8DhkbeSzBOV81TfyTE6KVZ0y_94PdCo/s1600/IMG_5426+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf9R7oVkPcfPgQaJq_39XDg2A0Xz3av2ZB7KAB22xVaHDOcUp7ye4QBY3EKUB5ypZI42nAcuxJjI0LplqK9mfhDgws6ZdJgxL7XSNh8AYN4Mid8DhkbeSzBOV81TfyTE6KVZ0y_94PdCo/s320/IMG_5426+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584409408189550626" border="0" /></a><br />And last week we even met up with our Hammies for a few laps around the park in some beautiful Spring Sunshine!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHbaDlWu2XMzWJIc3iV5EcApYTFr5FNG_NCOB_oaf3HxZLpG9viYdoITINnVkKo4u7zTCH-AgrIDQPm6s0pq1yUmdDZspiXYuTdzbvowOkQNfOx3jfqxDwbl5EDfMljiFdAE-0c4kJ4O4/s1600/IMG_5482+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgHbaDlWu2XMzWJIc3iV5EcApYTFr5FNG_NCOB_oaf3HxZLpG9viYdoITINnVkKo4u7zTCH-AgrIDQPm6s0pq1yUmdDZspiXYuTdzbvowOkQNfOx3jfqxDwbl5EDfMljiFdAE-0c4kJ4O4/s320/IMG_5482+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584409330557026242" border="0" /></a><br />I figured they would poop out after a lap or two. They lasted a long time! A little friendly competition between the big kids (Kailee and Dawson) and the little sisters kept it alive for quite some time... Dawson kept shouting "Im the hare, youre the tortise!" over his shoulder. The grown ups had a good chuckle and Kari asked him if he was familiar with the story. Dawson goes... "YA! The hare is so fast he stops to take a nap... then he looses!" Haha. Alright. As long as he knows what hes putting his name on...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAMXYSqOsg-A78XDqHGV79bzE7WeyCFysbteRLYWZi8CQd3K12gUP48fu5SCV-ETnn8SvW6or_RUPH7Bkek2GBN1HnOsNl-xuSxDIHXPNxEDA7COGNUb2JLTeX69MASLDTeuIOrJakZW8/s1600/IMG_5487+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAMXYSqOsg-A78XDqHGV79bzE7WeyCFysbteRLYWZi8CQd3K12gUP48fu5SCV-ETnn8SvW6or_RUPH7Bkek2GBN1HnOsNl-xuSxDIHXPNxEDA7COGNUb2JLTeX69MASLDTeuIOrJakZW8/s320/IMG_5487+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584409320080052002" border="0" /></a><br />We sat on a blanket and watched as they took lap after lap around the dirt trail... they worked hard!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY55V80n-OvNIwOWrzasNikGhU6ocMMpTMs6Xo7w9tE61VOxVRRjHOvicqGDKiMJ_LzDI-IksBlkWrh87XNDqXu5Pon4lGh8CAc4nkJeP6A3ntbJkKk165DCpUWfygeKHQj2BI4O3PFa4/s1600/IMG_5479+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgY55V80n-OvNIwOWrzasNikGhU6ocMMpTMs6Xo7w9tE61VOxVRRjHOvicqGDKiMJ_LzDI-IksBlkWrh87XNDqXu5Pon4lGh8CAc4nkJeP6A3ntbJkKk165DCpUWfygeKHQj2BI4O3PFa4/s320/IMG_5479+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584409338916482818" border="0" /></a><br />...OK, maybe some a little harder than others. But still! These kids meant it! And still had tons of energy left over to climb apple trees and wander around as far as we would allow.<br /><br />On Saturday it was finally race day.<br /><br />The kids were SO PUMPED, they even got numbers to wear this time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOGeST7-MT6s3OBq_w_uuFiWNlDQ8imCT4GxU7ZXMuQ1Xabiich_dJjXmYnItaYewm6rsOeDvUotnoETcHQaMgc6pG_mmNXshaG5GbuGQEMerC26aVPbisIJYHrUMKPZA3mrXFDOtCLw/s1600/IMG_5493+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEiaOGeST7-MT6s3OBq_w_uuFiWNlDQ8imCT4GxU7ZXMuQ1Xabiich_dJjXmYnItaYewm6rsOeDvUotnoETcHQaMgc6pG_mmNXshaG5GbuGQEMerC26aVPbisIJYHrUMKPZA3mrXFDOtCLw/s320/IMG_5493+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584409315456881074" border="0" /></a><br />I had some butterflies for them... it felt strange to be spectating!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYkjUr0pqocy_ecvAodTeWtWR1Za2WJlDcWFsjdw1_5EczGijNpI53IoFSSAUaH49fgyPvq8UP189HuQy4a_E0Ciix9shQRpy1KjULEYztQPhzT_XCQV52JvT-fdalB3t0EmxJaRCJog/s1600/IMG_5497+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhjYkjUr0pqocy_ecvAodTeWtWR1Za2WJlDcWFsjdw1_5EczGijNpI53IoFSSAUaH49fgyPvq8UP189HuQy4a_E0Ciix9shQRpy1KjULEYztQPhzT_XCQV52JvT-fdalB3t0EmxJaRCJog/s320/IMG_5497+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584409309769852258" border="0" /></a><br />We made them a sign, and Kari and I stood nervously at the finish line with several other friends and acquaintances from our little town and watched as tons of our little friends and neighbors took off as fast as their 4inch long legs would carry them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7XB5_MIHD9YEN5kacV6j7ZVE125u7oUc0fuGtZClY2UmSiMYmUThZYXFWX4wIOhMgrauB1SBkRmY3wWfS6l4Hsi_2gaPSDnyv_Pa-A2R6sFgEioUe9KinrMT0M8SFKWXVkHlHCyUTWiw/s1600/IMG_5501+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEi7XB5_MIHD9YEN5kacV6j7ZVE125u7oUc0fuGtZClY2UmSiMYmUThZYXFWX4wIOhMgrauB1SBkRmY3wWfS6l4Hsi_2gaPSDnyv_Pa-A2R6sFgEioUe9KinrMT0M8SFKWXVkHlHCyUTWiw/s320/IMG_5501+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584408977468510706" border="0" /></a>...Kailee's legs are <span style="font-style: italic;">much</span> longer. They are at least 6 inches long. ;)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit3IpTfarUUq3cQ_yqfyNlliwzr0RkqQlBkxy9POgi3DZ-_Fv2oBxW5PUDM8qTWNPESZ9UOJ2zhYnl8dFyvlSGT-MoQ508rHDurDKk6jpU_9u3eKw__QX8SiTvFfVKXdyKIHclDFdyTVc/s1600/IMG_5505+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEit3IpTfarUUq3cQ_yqfyNlliwzr0RkqQlBkxy9POgi3DZ-_Fv2oBxW5PUDM8qTWNPESZ9UOJ2zhYnl8dFyvlSGT-MoQ508rHDurDKk6jpU_9u3eKw__QX8SiTvFfVKXdyKIHclDFdyTVc/s320/IMG_5505+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584408968989917826" border="0" /></a><br />I am SO impressed with this herd.<br /><br />Kailee ran the mile in under 8 and a half minutes!<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />That is about what I run on a good day!</span><br /><br />Dawson was just about a 10 minute mile<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(which was about my average pace a year ago)...</span><br /><br />I'm sure he would have taken the title for the whole entire race (haha) if the sweetest little boy God ever handmade hadn't <span style="font-style: italic;">stopped to <span style="font-weight: bold;">PICK HIS MOMMY SOME FLOWERS</span></span> to hand me at the finish line.<br /><br />(Yep, I definitely cried).<br /><br />Addie and Anabelle weren't far behind...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAd2L_5BeR82wFHOCJz3OVIPZK6gcZLRW6ZgilUC8UH52I4DYd7JC8xF9TJvOtbPz0YUlgSkkFPG8CfzuIUveSb6fu4Z06lqPbLZXCmGtHjNvyTByvIpSu0cP5oN-NysGKDktEfObVKo4/s1600/IMG_5509+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhAd2L_5BeR82wFHOCJz3OVIPZK6gcZLRW6ZgilUC8UH52I4DYd7JC8xF9TJvOtbPz0YUlgSkkFPG8CfzuIUveSb6fu4Z06lqPbLZXCmGtHjNvyTByvIpSu0cP5oN-NysGKDktEfObVKo4/s320/IMG_5509+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584408961026960738" border="0" /></a>They stayed together, naturally. Addie even slowed her naturally athletic stride to encourage an older friend from the hood to keep it up after the girl got a side cramp. Such sportsmanship!<br /><br />Tyson (father of the year, according to ME), showed up in his Greyhound orange and ran the race with the kids to get all these snazzy pics (and make sure no slow and undeserving kids passed 'em up! Haha).<br /><br />At the finish line, they were handing out participant medals.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQiF_fPBb-BonOrtVHkL1c-3_iOQfHwd16zT5PeWUIvNC_XD0mJHDXeuX8-wUri9_GdPZ_OvejOlKD7Rw0NliVcIs_EhV6PU4opzE15AfAe9UoUrnxu_rq8SSEp7Bc1xfCxUzTMjRigg0/s1600/IMG_5510+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhQiF_fPBb-BonOrtVHkL1c-3_iOQfHwd16zT5PeWUIvNC_XD0mJHDXeuX8-wUri9_GdPZ_OvejOlKD7Rw0NliVcIs_EhV6PU4opzE15AfAe9UoUrnxu_rq8SSEp7Bc1xfCxUzTMjRigg0/s320/IMG_5510+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584408950324082594" border="0" /></a>Addie and Anabelle were beyond perturbed to discover they had run out of them by the time they crossed. Look at their annoyed little sour faces! I don't blame them.<br /><br />Addie had to run out her aggression... by running the half mile race that took place following the race she had just participated in.<br /><br />That girl is hardcore! And I am delighted that my daughter has a bff that tough to have her back thru the perils of childhood. ;) They are a fantastic pair.<br /><br />Rumor mill has it that they will be sending medals in the mail to those that didn't get them at the finish line. Hope its true... or Anabelle may develop an extreme hostility toward the United States Postal Service. Maybe I shouldn't put that in writing... ;)<br /><br />All that to say... these kids are extraordinary.<br /><br />I remember in Jr. High, when our PE teacher used to make us run the mile. It was scary, and hard, and I <span style="font-style: italic;">hated</span> doing it ( I wasn't the only one!).<br /><br />I think at this rate, these particular kids may just finish that assignment before the coach has time to blow the start whistle, and ask for extra credit for miles 2-5. I hope it makes them aware of the fact that our bodies are fearfully and wonderfully made machines, built to meet goals and overcome challenges. This is a great way to push yourself mentally and physically, and build lasting relationships along the way. I am thrilled something that means a lot to me on a personal level has sparked an interest to them, and I hope they push themselves to the best they are capable of for as long as they can~<br /><br />Oh, and maybe remember stop and pick some flowers every now and then... just in case they happen to find someone they love (me, ME!) waiting at the finish line.<br /><br />These kids are winners.<br /><br />xoxo<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6PL72avqdZJpkvatRvs4ugSEG9AO23RccECkWRY3gNNJjHh40tLMQN51-gH9YC-da4oPgJhhlRQITEwz2iqj2OD8PXZifjheVAbFd5B7IwtncniJ5UvGERgZ67C_3yippMJjvCxEhg0/s1600/IMG_5426+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><br /></a>Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-64971153005212326832011-03-14T08:52:00.001-07:002011-03-14T10:36:50.325-07:00NEW THINGS!I'm sitting here in a quiet napping house in SHORTS! Spring is Springing! Birds are chirping! Life is full of so many simple pleasures.<p class="MsoNormal"><br />I've been particularly blessed lately. There are a lot of new things happening in my world.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some of them are small, like my NEW HAIR!!!!!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDZ8Vf69V12mtpyeo-d7dgAEX3WemSyEmY2ZrMsKe5M-ssQf4LEEdPncD5B2i_lz2X4_jkoAglRmv-gkDM8XfXCfL1q36r-rk5Q6KEjK3GBgO_nu9GqxicgnY-wnnkFZkCl_0UHD_W14/s1600/IMG_5462+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVDZ8Vf69V12mtpyeo-d7dgAEX3WemSyEmY2ZrMsKe5M-ssQf4LEEdPncD5B2i_lz2X4_jkoAglRmv-gkDM8XfXCfL1q36r-rk5Q6KEjK3GBgO_nu9GqxicgnY-wnnkFZkCl_0UHD_W14/s320/IMG_5462+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583964681958945634" border="0" /></a><br />I've been dying for highlights since I got rid of my last ones... 3 years ago.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">These little beauties showed up just in time for Carly's wedding in MAY (its getting close!!).<br /><br />Moving right along...<br /><br />Who remembers that awful dream they once had when they came over to my house, and we were all having a really nice time, and then all of a sudden you had to use the restroom, and you walked in, and all you saw was this VOMITING GREEN MONSTROSITY glaring back at you?!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCA1yr8Xr_Vucf71583OuzftYMsmVTzAIdT_XqRI_uUVnKVIl5kA8DzzAOv_3dFG_N2VGm5b8ZDlnF8_lqopUFOAbahGsAyRMD2QFSg9fgu2UZ3KPZoHgmz0T4eyyA1awAS2WhC7wMEQc/s1600/IMG_5363+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><br /> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6QwlNCkGEA6USEQQZPK0MA7N8vQ2e_skw7WTkEsHEssgQ1GTlnvVW4nY-HNd1aXM4Hng0cUHOwSN2Cr2FXAg4JASrCHsa7O1RiNNSk2gof9taR81B9o8qD4kVT4kgwcmR6w30w67_Hg/s1600/IMG_5364+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF6QwlNCkGEA6USEQQZPK0MA7N8vQ2e_skw7WTkEsHEssgQ1GTlnvVW4nY-HNd1aXM4Hng0cUHOwSN2Cr2FXAg4JASrCHsa7O1RiNNSk2gof9taR81B9o8qD4kVT4kgwcmR6w30w67_Hg/s320/IMG_5364+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583964677386198402" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fE78-n42mqND68XE7Y0Bx9x3o0HbnDhlVA37_DXC5_KIaQ57dKexOWqrKtXBt116GznR4S2BGApOHS94iGrC1MM93M65FkRPL0xdXch6pGSi0s9rK3WaXSLbLh6VKSDOMktchBpLj-I/s1600/IMG_5362+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5fE78-n42mqND68XE7Y0Bx9x3o0HbnDhlVA37_DXC5_KIaQ57dKexOWqrKtXBt116GznR4S2BGApOHS94iGrC1MM93M65FkRPL0xdXch6pGSi0s9rK3WaXSLbLh6VKSDOMktchBpLj-I/s320/IMG_5362+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583964672571098562" border="0" /></a>(The vomit part is the paint... not the Tyson. Not that I needed to clarify... ahem.)</p><p class="MsoNormal">Yah.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">I had the same dream. Every day since I painted my bathroom <span style="font-style: italic;">right after we moved in almost 5 years ago.</span><br /><br />But, then I did a little homework and went to a few home-improvement-projects-gone-bad group therapy sessions, and suddenly the dream is looking a <b>lot</b> more peaceful.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1rA96KjHYxtXNB_1cdCpDA5Bx4NpMto6K35gm_zomM8q-DMN-_Jkhhh0KiaAEq4LWiyOJ7hnWl1xfNpfNqkDCJwWKUNel6DclibUWKYLaDW6F1ciNH-fJtO3of-YinjLOhgoV4LxU9w/s1600/IMG_5467+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1rA96KjHYxtXNB_1cdCpDA5Bx4NpMto6K35gm_zomM8q-DMN-_Jkhhh0KiaAEq4LWiyOJ7hnWl1xfNpfNqkDCJwWKUNel6DclibUWKYLaDW6F1ciNH-fJtO3of-YinjLOhgoV4LxU9w/s320/IMG_5467+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583964682481628738" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzuEczCh_tF85RqwKZOQCI6baFVioNLeSzFMNvisBlHT8TyX7ZiiXf5C3U5mcT1uy3eNihWdQZsfcd3u7liKNwY5hlhezMisOQYx7Aw5n_YQkaXlvk558h6wJxVPGxbU5aGf7A2CYm1ok/s1600/IMG_5464+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjzuEczCh_tF85RqwKZOQCI6baFVioNLeSzFMNvisBlHT8TyX7ZiiXf5C3U5mcT1uy3eNihWdQZsfcd3u7liKNwY5hlhezMisOQYx7Aw5n_YQkaXlvk558h6wJxVPGxbU5aGf7A2CYm1ok/s320/IMG_5464+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965132142846114" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYksHTsQ3NqQ9GEJCIckrGkUHNsRE32NS8aDYIGARDDYWEiNBJQPw7jUcToUUfLtUVbToucj67Yc7J2TAHo3Zai4PswQsjyAsZK9qBKcahlBHCWINhRr28JjRjDw2SuUhh8OyGkAuI-f8/s1600/IMG_5463+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYksHTsQ3NqQ9GEJCIckrGkUHNsRE32NS8aDYIGARDDYWEiNBJQPw7jUcToUUfLtUVbToucj67Yc7J2TAHo3Zai4PswQsjyAsZK9qBKcahlBHCWINhRr28JjRjDw2SuUhh8OyGkAuI-f8/s320/IMG_5463+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965136087291330" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">HUGE shout-out to my Dad for the use of his wonderland of supplies and tools from his shop and his handyman tips on demand, my father-in-law for giving up a Saturday to re-plumb my bathtub to fit the swanky new (high maintenence!) fixtures we had to have,<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPReh1y_A3GNT_huO2hjGMYTOnXu6rQ1_UPx8aIsTzCDa493dSN_8CbFhLZQ0ObN27mmGeHNQJ0N9wUAz7FNz0xHaB2EliGZxknCJOPEOnfeF-bbBWHRRRKDVzDcw2TnQlrknfQ0QtTLQ/s1600/IMG_5465+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPReh1y_A3GNT_huO2hjGMYTOnXu6rQ1_UPx8aIsTzCDa493dSN_8CbFhLZQ0ObN27mmGeHNQJ0N9wUAz7FNz0xHaB2EliGZxknCJOPEOnfeF-bbBWHRRRKDVzDcw2TnQlrknfQ0QtTLQ/s320/IMG_5465+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965125647910018" border="0" /></a></p>and of COURSE the star of the show, TYSON... <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLfRuMmUEmVbkfFytHNKgnB6TAjTY1P04GTPaL_Sg9o_afKSB-uXqXxETnlhLDCHgnURptgtHaX_DfSRLxDrLRAkZejlM8ByIs_239X3hMoho9WV63Ot84xgVdEb6YqmxN0H2qusiSlQ/s1600/IMG_5466+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLfRuMmUEmVbkfFytHNKgnB6TAjTY1P04GTPaL_Sg9o_afKSB-uXqXxETnlhLDCHgnURptgtHaX_DfSRLxDrLRAkZejlM8ByIs_239X3hMoho9WV63Ot84xgVdEb6YqmxN0H2qusiSlQ/s320/IMG_5466+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965122197454530" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">The man manages to pick up overtime, help in Dawson's classroom, be the carpool guy for 2 different school schedules, and still make time to learn how to lay tile all by himself while I run a daycare under his nose as he does it.</p><p class="MsoNormal">There is nothing this guy is afraid to try, I <span style="font-weight: bold;">love</span> my new bathroom and my good 'old' husband. ;)<br /></p> Also in recent headlines, I am now officially broadcasting from the mature perspective of TWENTY EIGHT YEARS OLD!!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpawtYfbnYEzza80gAYM1pJsIXfbQs2HZNSWVPeBbM6-Un-49unQUO7DocxcH6XJRTrseC684ZlZ2aCf0IlhUhpoc5fN0S39zwCQYNS9KU7yG2zmr2ZM7_L11-T7XHLTOETrwybvjSgE/s1600/IMG_5432.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/AVvXsEjFpawtYfbnYEzza80gAYM1pJsIXfbQs2HZNSWVPeBbM6-Un-49unQUO7DocxcH6XJRTrseC684ZlZ2aCf0IlhUhpoc5fN0S39zwCQYNS9KU7yG2zmr2ZM7_L11-T7XHLTOETrwybvjSgE/s320/IMG_5432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965880928766482" border="0" /></a><br />Happy Birthday, ME! ;) I've learned to embrace these age advancing occasions in my "Camelot" years of life.<br /><br />I enjoyed a a pre-celebratory bday feast with Tyson's family the night before that included wine, cake, and PEEPS! Then, after a good night's sleep, went to coffee with my parents followed by a Home Depot run to pick out a new screen door my personal fixit man (holla, DAD!!) is slaving away to install for me, and came home to an AMAZING lunch that my girlfriends made me.<br /><br />There were flowers, sandwiches that are so good I cant talk about them or I will cry because they are all GONE, LOTS of kids I happen to adore running wild everywhere just the way kids should, and then, later that evening, I got the pleasure of being in the company of <span style="font-style: italic;">both brothers </span>(and mom!) on my day.<br /><br />I don't know what more I could have wished for... except then, I got this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0uXeVpqcIiYQ1e-dlgObuhKlbqlKDImo9bj0mjxAXJt2_6JMQhYFfSCKgZmClwD1HMM6rPsWNCJGlQtAGWjILzsNebAVzNQtc19Fyz94oksNKN38fqLl_1nqYdL3GDOrvtkMcw-fMOak/s1600/IMG_5478+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0uXeVpqcIiYQ1e-dlgObuhKlbqlKDImo9bj0mjxAXJt2_6JMQhYFfSCKgZmClwD1HMM6rPsWNCJGlQtAGWjILzsNebAVzNQtc19Fyz94oksNKN38fqLl_1nqYdL3GDOrvtkMcw-fMOak/s320/IMG_5478+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965120169650946" border="0" /></a><br />Bethany's mother-in-law is an artist, and she doesn't even know my family, but a few months ago Bethany mentioned that she had a recent masterpiece that looked JUST like Anabelle and I at the beach. She texted me a pic, and I fell in love with it. I mentioned it to Ty and <span style="font-style: italic;">he remembered</span>! I love it so much I feel like no room in my house is good enough of a spot to hang it! I have so many good people and good things going in my life... I don't even mind that I'm getting any older. Yet. ;)<br /><br />ARE YOU STILL WITH ME!?<br /><br />If you are... good.<br /><br />Two more new things.<br /><br />My son is getting old. He is six now, you know, and he popped out of bed the other morning while I was at the gym (that means it was before 7am!), got himself dressed head to toe including jacket and shoes and socks, <span style="font-style: italic;">and then packed his own lunch...</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyLp0KRG4j0Mg9kaIwAlMUfgGhLwlILQuhmSG9FJy2Go-AK2HUfQzIPVnLAChGbuhYBuR0tJs2TBPUqCSL9O5c5bM4H1gfLtWyflu0HuVxKYfWbq67A-C0i9asAN6gF5SdJMWPkqybmE/s1600/IMG_5453+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEiJyLp0KRG4j0Mg9kaIwAlMUfgGhLwlILQuhmSG9FJy2Go-AK2HUfQzIPVnLAChGbuhYBuR0tJs2TBPUqCSL9O5c5bM4H1gfLtWyflu0HuVxKYfWbq67A-C0i9asAN6gF5SdJMWPkqybmE/s320/IMG_5453+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965895826509858" border="0" /></a><br />Apparently he prefers his sandwich with a cheese stick chopped to smithereens and light on the meat, heavy on the pickles. No mayo. It was <span style="font-style: italic;">so so cute</span> and such a milestone since mornings can be quite a shenanigan around here. He was completely ready to head out the door by the time I got home at<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 7am</span>.<br /><br />That entire day was quite a mommy love fest evidently, because after dinner he suspiciously kept asking if I needed to go potty. I didn't think it was all that strange because Ive been known to ask them frequently if they 'need to go' if I see them being antsy.<br /><br />But when nature finally did call... I discovered why he was so anxiously waiting for this occurrence...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsbmmlL-HHf7AsxyvriN4Aqj2_nkM719Pjuk1nvbZYfgeVoTSpAk5pVYEMq0ZEZj9ZYyxyurrsIX9KB1iXNdGlOtrTJLUjCOyX-NI7QdeqASXYiE-QqI-0GGRI7ua5iMpdismBWYGE68/s1600/IMG_5451+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsbmmlL-HHf7AsxyvriN4Aqj2_nkM719Pjuk1nvbZYfgeVoTSpAk5pVYEMq0ZEZj9ZYyxyurrsIX9KB1iXNdGlOtrTJLUjCOyX-NI7QdeqASXYiE-QqI-0GGRI7ua5iMpdismBWYGE68/s320/IMG_5451+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965885635437874" border="0" /></a><br />Oh yes he DID write me love notes on the roll of toilet paper. And oh yes it DID bleed thru several layers. I was laughing SO HARD at the thought of wiping with purple marker soaked TP I almost had an accident. For reals. You KNOW someone loves you when they proclaim it from the seat of their throne!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTNeb_TzBTBVmedS5MscKWeynkdrPn0NdhyphenhyphenPMB8yVKs4tvLJpYAvI7umd-AbPUkI2Xt9Cp9ezTJ1ctZIiibY5sretp5XgVQXaBlm3qQqWZvEuF94Si-dwOzU1T0JQh0sPVKSBjRgvjq0/s1600/IMG_5452+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTNeb_TzBTBVmedS5MscKWeynkdrPn0NdhyphenhyphenPMB8yVKs4tvLJpYAvI7umd-AbPUkI2Xt9Cp9ezTJ1ctZIiibY5sretp5XgVQXaBlm3qQqWZvEuF94Si-dwOzU1T0JQh0sPVKSBjRgvjq0/s320/IMG_5452+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965896539348498" border="0" /></a><br />Ahh, Dawsie. I love you, too.<br /><br />And last but not least by ANY measure.... speaking of love... if you made it to the end of this long catch up blog, then <span style="font-style: italic;">here,</span> oh good and faithful reader, <span style="font-style: italic;">is your reward...</span><br /><br />Something that has never happened to me before is about to happen.<br /><br />Something amazing and wonderful and surprising and emotional... something I've looked forward to forever but never expected to be blessed with so soon.<br /><br />My (extended) family is growing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_HFxtOvFmXfz05fIWSI2K5GW4-ad31fyT5iUuhgmz6GIx_R7ehhtQko_NugraLm8iKqLZ8QS-0RqnrUFcZasmSIN32Ju6ujpkH5FDbkneiC1PbMZJH9VsC77lhmRtCAsV_CySpYqpmw/s1600/IMG_5241+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhY_HFxtOvFmXfz05fIWSI2K5GW4-ad31fyT5iUuhgmz6GIx_R7ehhtQko_NugraLm8iKqLZ8QS-0RqnrUFcZasmSIN32Ju6ujpkH5FDbkneiC1PbMZJH9VsC77lhmRtCAsV_CySpYqpmw/s320/IMG_5241+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583965899239427234" border="0" /></a>KJ and Jessica are <span style="font-weight: bold;">making me an AUNTIE</span> for the very first time, and I have tears of joy in my eyes as I type the words.<br /><br />My brother and I are 6 years apart, which is a big age difference, but I believe it made us close for the reason that I remember<span style="font-style: italic;"> all </span>of his life.<br /><br />I remember being an only child, being lonely in that role, and wanting a sibling so much.<br /><br />I remember the ultrasound that the Dr squirted jelly all over my mom's tummy at, finding out it <span style="font-style: italic;">was a brother,</span> being disappointed until I found out my best gal pal at the time was also having a brother and we started a "baby brother club."<br /><br />I remember the hospital tour, the 'big sibling class,' then day my Grandmom showed up to pick me up early from Kindergarten because my Kenneth Joseph was on his way into the world.<br /><br />I remember being so confused about why he wasn't instantly mine to take to the park and play Barbies with, changing his diapers, blowing raspberries on his tummy till he was belly laughing so hard he was pink in the face, watching him scoot across the hard floor of our house on his little red firetruck toy.<br /><br />I remember his big baby fine blondie curls and his very first haircut, his first day of preschool.<br /><br />I remember when he fell off the monkey bars and scared us half to death, the time he almost poked his eye out with a stick, and the time he shoved the rock up his nose that warranted a trip to the ER.<br /><br />The school plays, the lego fettish, the birthday parties...<br /><br />Theres just so much about this baby boy that I adored from the moment I laid eyes on him, and I just can't believe he's grown into a kind, strong, capable man who set sights on such a lovely girl for our family to love, and here I get to have the joy of watching him grow his very own miracle to enjoy.<br /><br />I hope he loves his baby experience as much as I loved having his babyhood a part of my life.<br /><br />(But I already know he will, and then some).<br /><br />YOU GUYS WILL BE THE BEST PARENTS, and one thousand congratulations.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Look out, world! </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Harkness is about to get a whole new generation.</span><br /><br />(And I am about to spoil it rotten).<br /><br />xo<br /><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;} </style> <![endif]-->Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-89992809969987952242011-03-07T08:42:00.000-08:002011-03-08T22:28:08.220-08:00The "Fodder Dodder" DanceIf you're a loyal follower, you may recall the Father/Daughter sweetheart dance Ty took Anabelle to last year.<br /><br />Its a shindig the City of Atascadero puts on annually and its an excuse for local fathers and daughters of all ages to get dolled up and spend a little quality time together.<br /><br />Anabelle has literally talked about this event at least once a week since she attended last February. She prays about it at night, "...and thank you that I got to go to the Fodder/Daughter dance with daddy..." she looks forward to it like the other regular milestones in a child's measurement of time... Christmas, her birthday, <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">the dance</span>... She points out outfits she thinks we should buy ..."<span style="font-style: italic;">for when its time to go again</span>..." and asks on a regular basis if I will style her hair like I did for the last event (that took me the better part of an hour to do...).<br /><br />This year Tyson took the entire week off work because he isn't allowed to 'swap' days off until his one year hire date in April, and <span style="font-style: italic;">he was not about to chance missing it.</span> But, since it was costing him an entire week of vacation time, we had to plan our Disneyland trip into that week as well... and it ended up being quite a juggling act to squeeze it all in.<br /><br />We woke up in LA on Friday morning.... went to Disneyland until lunchtime... loaded up and flew like pixies down the freeway to make it home in time to get ready and party some more. We got home at 5:30pm...<br /><br />Did a magical little song and dance the forest animals and birds and fairy godmothers taught us to sing that magically transforms carsick sleepy toads into sparkling princesses in an instant...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStwYeym4u-motwtoJ5mQOm0gmYSMcqhnEr2taQUVJZclTuy_73J0ha9__NtBdbbAUFs-B47umPhfIF_crchs-6Ld2d9xeVV36HQf99HjXe7u7B4Kzpp5yBCm0tWJgBPpHzJtHYNLYodE/s1600/IMG_5324+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStwYeym4u-motwtoJ5mQOm0gmYSMcqhnEr2taQUVJZclTuy_73J0ha9__NtBdbbAUFs-B47umPhfIF_crchs-6Ld2d9xeVV36HQf99HjXe7u7B4Kzpp5yBCm0tWJgBPpHzJtHYNLYodE/s320/IMG_5324+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581384420407007762" border="0" /></a>...and WHA-LA! We were ready to meet our friends the Moens to head out by 6:30pm!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWm0mavKSpy94CG9UmZ7AUnqn_4klpJkMZuMAnQ1LDZiFQp64cNMiYwNIUaB1NKUe285MZ54UPbaC-dMOn8HGuy0tW49eY7gsbmAoXyAETL8Vauu0NGgTNlsxXQme8HVKKjubO_sFUnqI/s1600/IMG_5325+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhWm0mavKSpy94CG9UmZ7AUnqn_4klpJkMZuMAnQ1LDZiFQp64cNMiYwNIUaB1NKUe285MZ54UPbaC-dMOn8HGuy0tW49eY7gsbmAoXyAETL8Vauu0NGgTNlsxXQme8HVKKjubO_sFUnqI/s320/IMG_5325+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581384416939229170" border="0" /></a><br />I think they clean up pretty splendidly, if I may say so. <3<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZW_fTRAMDMRnzj92VC79FyBOQ1QkmrBj47Y0fLEb00zAIcUB3imK3Sy2ZWYCDFP-w1HUYO7ipkWK7s-C5uMekl4zmi_2ASR8y2_m3qTtQKYP7px0JOyFgumaghOh4zYRzTzxDheIkFY/s1600/IMG_5326+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZW_fTRAMDMRnzj92VC79FyBOQ1QkmrBj47Y0fLEb00zAIcUB3imK3Sy2ZWYCDFP-w1HUYO7ipkWK7s-C5uMekl4zmi_2ASR8y2_m3qTtQKYP7px0JOyFgumaghOh4zYRzTzxDheIkFY/s320/IMG_5326+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581384415485951138" border="0" /></a>How adorable is this... my daughter is only five years old... already on her second formal dance date ever... and strapped into a booster seat with her little gal pal.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBlTBKEklmkFvmbeRdXn318r38Z96Ct5ofqy92zrP0zaOUOnGv9qITVD1TaXvRL8xgMxCiZi9B1kfMHyo4P1iPQMb3hjW4RrjtC8LMmHsLqqzPu7-9mi3pZj4kjiXdY0hSb0WBkHKJ3E/s1600/181784_501518688316_554258316_6282438_1425841_n+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjFBlTBKEklmkFvmbeRdXn318r38Z96Ct5ofqy92zrP0zaOUOnGv9qITVD1TaXvRL8xgMxCiZi9B1kfMHyo4P1iPQMb3hjW4RrjtC8LMmHsLqqzPu7-9mi3pZj4kjiXdY0hSb0WBkHKJ3E/s320/181784_501518688316_554258316_6282438_1425841_n+%2528Medium%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581949245388416546" border="0" /></a>Don't be surprised if I try to talk her dates into this ritual for the rest of her life... I'm sure they make booster seats for 17year old girls who have boyfriends with drivers licenses?<br /><br />Of course I'm hoping said 17 year old boy will not stand a chance...<br /><br />These girls were pampered and twirled and "juice-boxed and dined" and treated like the princesses they truly are all evening long by some pretty great menfolk we happen to know and love for being the Dads most girls only dream of having.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvI8JN5jBYpUc8yIF0tAmxIacdZg1cqY36uFP5WblH-bXNKggz8TZrJY2Q98qqkbHcf2fv4Ib7LVbopa5i7Bdql9nM7WkqAqUW5YWEZxUfE6LKdRcwyFS_Tt2Edz1B0wczjw4gMaX3CZk/s1600/IMG_5330+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvI8JN5jBYpUc8yIF0tAmxIacdZg1cqY36uFP5WblH-bXNKggz8TZrJY2Q98qqkbHcf2fv4Ib7LVbopa5i7Bdql9nM7WkqAqUW5YWEZxUfE6LKdRcwyFS_Tt2Edz1B0wczjw4gMaX3CZk/s320/IMG_5330+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581383951518902306" border="0" /></a>(John and Julie)<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YX879vcVPZo1f1-yl2OTFsAllkz2pAp9CGXl1oA7V7yFfiRp_56thn1U8WsPYbyBcyYawLzt4Z2TatggI1XfWC3ZhvmIF94A9rcnkPUdBr1yVsFH4a_f2Llrp_sqBJvDHiOQPX7Nf8o/s1600/IMG_5334+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEg5YX879vcVPZo1f1-yl2OTFsAllkz2pAp9CGXl1oA7V7yFfiRp_56thn1U8WsPYbyBcyYawLzt4Z2TatggI1XfWC3ZhvmIF94A9rcnkPUdBr1yVsFH4a_f2Llrp_sqBJvDHiOQPX7Nf8o/s320/IMG_5334+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581383941244300370" border="0" /></a>(Jeramey and Isabella)<br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyQavr2pik_KIVpxbilpUXsnundc1ZV9vWiQ5wYjH0nebnEw-wl8S37F0cZEd_VatDyS9B4FYf3g3aLQcTuIUC728OjCvd4DfOTzOb0FKBgVnqNox7HDJsjhitrmsrO3xtfmmbIu3pPw/s1600/IMG_5337+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgbyQavr2pik_KIVpxbilpUXsnundc1ZV9vWiQ5wYjH0nebnEw-wl8S37F0cZEd_VatDyS9B4FYf3g3aLQcTuIUC728OjCvd4DfOTzOb0FKBgVnqNox7HDJsjhitrmsrO3xtfmmbIu3pPw/s320/IMG_5337+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581383931999421602" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjOEV3m0dn39JAFnxjwJVXROG1j8Fdhd4yiHrQDLBVzRDaTjSYCf32rptmYENOH18XVVA8BxvviLY_bTjkk7h2S0OICV9wu4x7_1Dx7-6Tjj_0mpyDEQvqgfXOcpovFuqmi9RWBK1_wMM/s1600/IMG_5336+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgjOEV3m0dn39JAFnxjwJVXROG1j8Fdhd4yiHrQDLBVzRDaTjSYCf32rptmYENOH18XVVA8BxvviLY_bTjkk7h2S0OICV9wu4x7_1Dx7-6Tjj_0mpyDEQvqgfXOcpovFuqmi9RWBK1_wMM/s320/IMG_5336+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581383934807782514" border="0" /></a>(Jim and Sarah)<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsrh2qV-ZsWuNkkFSHLstt11BRJkiiAUZWK6DYBGUJxsJIgUckBhOD7BrTV5KrQVGMo8u6UBPhcsljvXbTG5Nzro8kIi6iGjwGhmyGJqBuyCvf5EqUika8r9lCXdgjoAlL8FzPsKyM3Ac/s1600/IMG_5328+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhsrh2qV-ZsWuNkkFSHLstt11BRJkiiAUZWK6DYBGUJxsJIgUckBhOD7BrTV5KrQVGMo8u6UBPhcsljvXbTG5Nzro8kIi6iGjwGhmyGJqBuyCvf5EqUika8r9lCXdgjoAlL8FzPsKyM3Ac/s320/IMG_5328+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581384412937865138" border="0" /></a>Their daddies have some pretty big...er...jackets to fill.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoS66nK4oofu0QFhsfTkD2ADPhtDBbiojCQVKL9cC0h5brt-5j3hJVazalkYjODS-0S6efo4gQl8o-7pJPLXc2FaqBNDxiFU2yLpYgZSsgQ4AG7QFGEkVYwtU9s5ClTXccENET-xochf4/s1600/IMG_5329+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgoS66nK4oofu0QFhsfTkD2ADPhtDBbiojCQVKL9cC0h5brt-5j3hJVazalkYjODS-0S6efo4gQl8o-7pJPLXc2FaqBNDxiFU2yLpYgZSsgQ4AG7QFGEkVYwtU9s5ClTXccENET-xochf4/s320/IMG_5329+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581384410241899810" border="0" /></a><br />So as the night wore on, I'm told my little flower began to wilt from all the excitement of Disneyland and the dance of her dreams...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfRDbtfqor0I79QtgB5bjr_5f2G7L4kGraL098Dx29wTWc1qn2SUOQH-4VoKoMgzVXX7cBRKHJ2kjlTgwO5nrY722QAsz8VeD2p-bAVSKzqc6EnCpCOshnq3QiTImRZsMF9z859m0u1A/s1600/IMG_5342+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgtfRDbtfqor0I79QtgB5bjr_5f2G7L4kGraL098Dx29wTWc1qn2SUOQH-4VoKoMgzVXX7cBRKHJ2kjlTgwO5nrY722QAsz8VeD2p-bAVSKzqc6EnCpCOshnq3QiTImRZsMF9z859m0u1A/s320/IMG_5342+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581383933632964258" border="0" /></a>In the true spirit of girl-friendship... Isabella (who had carpooled with Ty and Anabelle) agreed her friend Anabelle was indeed very, very sleepy and should head home a smidgen early to catch her beauty sleep appointment with Mr. Sandman.<br /><br />It was definitely a hit, I think the girls all had a blast and... they were <span style="font-style: italic;">certainly</span> some heaping slices of adorableness.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"></div><br />Meanwhile back at the ranch...<br /><br />Nobody was AT the ranch, because Dawson and I had ourselves a double date night too!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What... you didn't expect us to sit around like wallflowers and cry about not getting asked out all night long did you?!</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5nlXp5HVeINEi5Dn89PWz3229UOpWORKlsnEV4b2c6ovD5Q4Wh_r2qZdwJDGf2Wi0WCSbjKhzUhcQir1oA06FdhwWnLjSAN86qJS7JcCqsg85i665FTH9Mn_h-b9shlghsjjwn03LjTc/s1600/180178_501515768316_554258316_6282371_7947559_n+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEh5nlXp5HVeINEi5Dn89PWz3229UOpWORKlsnEV4b2c6ovD5Q4Wh_r2qZdwJDGf2Wi0WCSbjKhzUhcQir1oA06FdhwWnLjSAN86qJS7JcCqsg85i665FTH9Mn_h-b9shlghsjjwn03LjTc/s320/180178_501515768316_554258316_6282371_7947559_n+%2528Medium%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581949230181377346" border="0" /></a><br />Connor and Meg joined Dawson and I for an enchanting evening of Gnomeo and Juliette (Yes. Its an actual movie title... the story of Romeo and Juliette... acted out by Garden Gnomes. And it happened to be a decently cute movie, I was SHOCKED!), followed by a trip to Powell's Sweet Shop and then burgers and fries and milkshakes (oh, my!) at Good Times Cafe.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBr0fvl86Ms5aYLixfHYduqlIIRQ_xc1FyixtoGlUPFZrEAnZqg__Y9M1vqvdl84xJ27TT1QBudTfblyT415r3B0P7_Z2y7EtIe9lw716v0yVjsHCaFFHzIAEyQQx6wGqLakcYO06gMc/s1600/181709_501516318316_554258316_6282386_3181441_n+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjQBr0fvl86Ms5aYLixfHYduqlIIRQ_xc1FyixtoGlUPFZrEAnZqg__Y9M1vqvdl84xJ27TT1QBudTfblyT415r3B0P7_Z2y7EtIe9lw716v0yVjsHCaFFHzIAEyQQx6wGqLakcYO06gMc/s320/181709_501516318316_554258316_6282386_3181441_n+%2528Medium%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581949241126668994" border="0" /></a>Dawson and Connor rocking their respective afros... pretty awesome.<br /></div><br />My favorite part about this date was the fact that my son <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">insisted</span> on wearing his Indiana Jones costume and carrying his jewel pouch and whip the whole time...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5U9YKI-zWJg40_-Yb3b3IMKvNBoMGVyoa9F4hniaZD2OzUJLatUcOy6G0xtj8IDGvYpPwEDD2XIiAqjWzJNLQjX9iyVbyHspsrSjXM-Pp5JDLgBbwvkRsNuEhm8dm-Ed-ZUHy1bpRq4/s1600/168033_501516188316_554258316_6282381_150916_n+%2528Medium%2529.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX5U9YKI-zWJg40_-Yb3b3IMKvNBoMGVyoa9F4hniaZD2OzUJLatUcOy6G0xtj8IDGvYpPwEDD2XIiAqjWzJNLQjX9iyVbyHspsrSjXM-Pp5JDLgBbwvkRsNuEhm8dm-Ed-ZUHy1bpRq4/s320/168033_501516188316_554258316_6282381_150916_n+%2528Medium%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581949232438498434" border="0" /></a>You just never know when you may be called to defend the woman you love from some killer animated garden gnome come to life.<br /><br />Ah, these kids.<br /><br />We love them so, and this has become one of my favorite family traditions. I hope when they are 30 years old and finally allowed to go on 'real' dates, they remember the fun and innocence of these nights together, and feel the eyes of their parents on them AT ALL TIMES! ;)<br /><br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-82559200179439847272011-02-26T21:27:00.000-08:002011-03-06T23:11:41.247-08:00Our Magic KingdomSo we went to Disneyland a couple weeks ago. Tyson got an entire 9 consecutive days off, and we are finally back into the swing of family life after being somewhat out of touch with routine and reality.<br /><br />The last time we were at Disneyland, it was a completely last minute trip, and we only went for one day. The kids were 3 and 4 years old at the time, and I don't think they remembered a whole lot about the trip, except for that Dawson remembered he had battled Darth Vader (and WON!) and Anabelle remembered that her tummy got sick on one of the rides and there were princesses.<br /><br />This was a whole different ball game. We bought annual passes, planned a three day trip, got the whole <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fam</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">damily</span> involved, and showed up prepared.<br /><br />Now might be a good time to mention, our lovely Jessica works for Disney and got us the ROYAL hook up. She takes her Disney pretty seriously~ which is one of the many reasons I adore her so. All that said- she actually got all TEN of us special Disney t-shirts to wear... so we were actually that cool family that all looked like we belonged there and had money to burn. She ALSO called me <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wayyyyy</span> back in the fall when the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">uuuuuber</span> expensive authentic Disney ball gown costumes went on clearance after Halloween and offered to use her discount for our favorite little princess. Since the gowns HAPPEN to be, oh, a cool $75, once you're inside the park... I gladly obliged.<br /><br />So... day one... Dawson was Woody, and Anabelle was Cinderella (in a wedding gown).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoT47Ah2SuB8cmn5p8NFLNrmzz06XoYD3fKL1KOIFMvEudJsrpoJWlYBsCWIJ4PWizml0uIigrm8yC-_soLKCxWcmhug4juEnWhkHV2MsPb_KkiGtad4iqC-EmDZtKUTOokWAYtebGNao/s1600/IMG_5141.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/AVvXsEgoT47Ah2SuB8cmn5p8NFLNrmzz06XoYD3fKL1KOIFMvEudJsrpoJWlYBsCWIJ4PWizml0uIigrm8yC-_soLKCxWcmhug4juEnWhkHV2MsPb_KkiGtad4iqC-EmDZtKUTOokWAYtebGNao/s320/IMG_5141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578241470448599314" border="0" /></a>Side note: if anyone ever needs a super affordable, super clean, super great value hotel for Disney, I would HIGHLY recommend the Candy Cane Inn. Between the fact that its next door to the main entrance (we walked), it also has a pool, spa, kiddie pool, free shuttle, and free poolside continental breakfast. Its around $100/night. Brilliant.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wA314Zt8xqvulda0CWy3wFo6Omp_LqUU5p4VZ_8wWC9_gsSanDNdcLA2kl5crp-uYfANiw5rDjgR9SLXdUcqPCEPoJvgAa3Yc2TPVuMkkWDrYuhFH72IBXf3zbXfmnwvv5C_8FvW8k4/s1600/IMG_5143+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEg4wA314Zt8xqvulda0CWy3wFo6Omp_LqUU5p4VZ_8wWC9_gsSanDNdcLA2kl5crp-uYfANiw5rDjgR9SLXdUcqPCEPoJvgAa3Yc2TPVuMkkWDrYuhFH72IBXf3zbXfmnwvv5C_8FvW8k4/s320/IMG_5143+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578238272288129746" border="0" /></a><br />So... the first stop the first day was the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Bibbity</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Bobbity</span> Bo-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">tique</span>, where my daughter was transformed into a true Disney Diva before my very eyes by her personal fairy godmother (all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">pre</span>-arranged as a birthday surprise by Jessica and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">KJ</span>, the Disney miracle worker(s)). She got to choose her own hairstyle, her own tiara, her own ring that Princess Jasmine plucked from the cave of wonders, got her nails polished, her makeup done, and her own private bath in pixie dust. She was completely dumbfounded and hardly spoke the whole time... but not a day goes by now that she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">doesn't</span> apply makeup to anything that breaths and sits still long enough to be tortured.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6igDqb4yikweq2GULcSMNLs4yuh0Vjq49bD8i6meqhmtWCbqG_OcGYDdtuENuD1XtPgSfsaOKk72a9i4NSZx-e3U4C8OPHC-BfEOpB9CJSIKvF4RqlcQmU4x4BX0tjKaJIS-Q_9utJU8/s1600/IMG_5167+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6igDqb4yikweq2GULcSMNLs4yuh0Vjq49bD8i6meqhmtWCbqG_OcGYDdtuENuD1XtPgSfsaOKk72a9i4NSZx-e3U4C8OPHC-BfEOpB9CJSIKvF4RqlcQmU4x4BX0tjKaJIS-Q_9utJU8/s320/IMG_5167+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578238268733349730" border="0" /></a> I think its safe to say, it made an impression (our cat has never looked or smelled more beautiful...)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYxjQrWEsI2nWiMdq2jvWDYcXGV7QJ1zAkNOK9GIoJq9QoMyXAxgMW9NdSCjGzn5uoOBs_RXKgmaAghttiEE5nIX1u9pib5xJ72J5OXoTEOwMHYRY2x6gJ8G5q0VuEk01G9ab1MUB2OY/s1600/IMG_5173+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYxjQrWEsI2nWiMdq2jvWDYcXGV7QJ1zAkNOK9GIoJq9QoMyXAxgMW9NdSCjGzn5uoOBs_RXKgmaAghttiEE5nIX1u9pib5xJ72J5OXoTEOwMHYRY2x6gJ8G5q0VuEk01G9ab1MUB2OY/s320/IMG_5173+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581217119577019106" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And so our day1 of adventure continued. We hit up all the rides we wanted, and never waited once. The weather was 70 degrees and sunny. There was minimal whining, and plenty of energy to go around...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pv5-0ZCSfrXWcRhcXYIndA_G_D9FIYAjipiAr1oSTo1X5QA8rM4WpTDjCAMP3TFfK9mJtbTVMWNPcmzJPK0F0AIeH-G1lR4fCi5b9S6awecGDn02jSyQd8yzvYrybPiBx0kVTetDfKE/s1600/IMG_5240+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pv5-0ZCSfrXWcRhcXYIndA_G_D9FIYAjipiAr1oSTo1X5QA8rM4WpTDjCAMP3TFfK9mJtbTVMWNPcmzJPK0F0AIeH-G1lR4fCi5b9S6awecGDn02jSyQd8yzvYrybPiBx0kVTetDfKE/s320/IMG_5240+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578240768856430258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUvCKDOOZYn3QieuSWGfcEhyphenhyphenla4hMbaZ5kmoBDmKY8gUhwmm24bfaDbxK3pgtT0oWKzgRPUR-6q_4XxFGv0Nqj-JfWmCr_8M1xj1h56qNp2CEv_n3fir6IPQSCuyPMCit-uRKRsj_ZZvs/s1600/IMG_5258+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUvCKDOOZYn3QieuSWGfcEhyphenhyphenla4hMbaZ5kmoBDmKY8gUhwmm24bfaDbxK3pgtT0oWKzgRPUR-6q_4XxFGv0Nqj-JfWmCr_8M1xj1h56qNp2CEv_n3fir6IPQSCuyPMCit-uRKRsj_ZZvs/s320/IMG_5258+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578240330378655778" border="0" /></a><br />Yep. She's pretty well taken care of I'd say...<br /><br />We ate our weight in cotton candy...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEJMOXK0L3qEHIpezwA512iA1Syodi9CHJKOGV-eOwf0M8aagbUE38Sh2AanNUduIrfQYUh0WlluQPgB0mI4MDNd2XZdlRB-nyXjQZ_nfIAs0fTf9SI-Hhbq3rsWuHAfzgMtd6YgJlXlM/s1600/IMG_5195+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhEJMOXK0L3qEHIpezwA512iA1Syodi9CHJKOGV-eOwf0M8aagbUE38Sh2AanNUduIrfQYUh0WlluQPgB0mI4MDNd2XZdlRB-nyXjQZ_nfIAs0fTf9SI-Hhbq3rsWuHAfzgMtd6YgJlXlM/s320/IMG_5195+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578238282696206658" border="0" /></a><br />Dawson raced race cars, 'wasn't even kind of a little bit scared' on the haunted house, couldn't WAIT to ride 'Tower of Terror," and was the first kid chosen to vanquish Darth <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Vader</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcnQfBDe8pmUbg73UihpzQxjG8VZVZ04ADB4yq4Ypacl1IFpAckJbAHY7WYAnk2C7Gas-216GR-9NHCbiQ-34F2JLJT4yV1-IxV3ZfLS97EYVn6gvYofX-dDDasGy1BWw0DGKMfORu1w/s1600/IMG_5228+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhMcnQfBDe8pmUbg73UihpzQxjG8VZVZ04ADB4yq4Ypacl1IFpAckJbAHY7WYAnk2C7Gas-216GR-9NHCbiQ-34F2JLJT4yV1-IxV3ZfLS97EYVn6gvYofX-dDDasGy1BWw0DGKMfORu1w/s320/IMG_5228+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578239391586972402" border="0" /></a>Anabelle was admittedly "too shy," but adored watching her brother from the sidelines.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtopu1NjDrLaxIWIbW3bUu6gl4N0pugY0QOVg_x8eNZ0a4fht52MMTPsvh6SsQwk0Iz4OMnwnzPXlO9HJhpiJdV7FOL0CSzAZPK1Szio9zCG3AkquC4YfO9aJLS9jgL6wwW6XP5z4sd1w/s1600/IMG_5229+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtopu1NjDrLaxIWIbW3bUu6gl4N0pugY0QOVg_x8eNZ0a4fht52MMTPsvh6SsQwk0Iz4OMnwnzPXlO9HJhpiJdV7FOL0CSzAZPK1Szio9zCG3AkquC4YfO9aJLS9jgL6wwW6XP5z4sd1w/s320/IMG_5229+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581216732337444850" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Anabelle was particularly looking forward to discovering the mystery of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Tiki</span> Room...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YxRhBQrdT0Feq8jlJPSoLZIV2nw9jO3AVMN2i4TpkeYQUu9G2brx_NNKVmiSUl4uZ-Ic0uUoxUCQi3MfvkpW3iheCc90k1PYp1k-LWvOEUpgTv9rW3E_E5f4lqcHvOcUf71FZP80k3Y/s1600/IMG_5176+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YxRhBQrdT0Feq8jlJPSoLZIV2nw9jO3AVMN2i4TpkeYQUu9G2brx_NNKVmiSUl4uZ-Ic0uUoxUCQi3MfvkpW3iheCc90k1PYp1k-LWvOEUpgTv9rW3E_E5f4lqcHvOcUf71FZP80k3Y/s320/IMG_5176+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581216738478056882" border="0" /></a><br />...and had no problem what so ever letting me know promptly and LOUDLY that she was "kinda bored of this ride" not long after the first singing plant number was concluded. She's a tough crowd...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7wotZzE_4kuq1I01nlrbBfDhzNIRMBodI7pH37uhrmldsT1MgGeLmAKRFrmddx-qQBfO1UIWCSOdHS-C7cNVNWEMS5n9Jg4ctUJsq6e4kVRyB3s7ecF7bhkVDG3AKiE8uXDMdAfrwc0/s1600/IMG_5180+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhA7wotZzE_4kuq1I01nlrbBfDhzNIRMBodI7pH37uhrmldsT1MgGeLmAKRFrmddx-qQBfO1UIWCSOdHS-C7cNVNWEMS5n9Jg4ctUJsq6e4kVRyB3s7ecF7bhkVDG3AKiE8uXDMdAfrwc0/s320/IMG_5180+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578238271071237922" border="0" /></a><br />We saw several beloved Disney characters, but only made it a point to pose with the favorites. Dawson has had a Jasmin <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">fetish</span> since I can remember. I asked him once why he loved her so much (we rarely watch Aladdin!), and I assumed he would say he liked the tiger.<br /><br />Guess again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgngOT5IdYSObZetf6V8H_6kjBZ1L3BfQWJr1he18ZKhDNr-_QQAoQqsxg7Oda2VGbhIR-H91DVVGrmjMctrPeMX960oSUzogR1aDsaK8hIhMUaIU3s8cu7pcEzTPGtIYH3H7eWuMTkJXY/s1600/IMG_5182+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgngOT5IdYSObZetf6V8H_6kjBZ1L3BfQWJr1he18ZKhDNr-_QQAoQqsxg7Oda2VGbhIR-H91DVVGrmjMctrPeMX960oSUzogR1aDsaK8hIhMUaIU3s8cu7pcEzTPGtIYH3H7eWuMTkJXY/s320/IMG_5182+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578238278616450018" border="0" /></a><br />My little ladies man will maintain to this day... Jasmine is his favorite because he "loves her jewels." I hope he uses that as an actual pick up line one day. It would be a great story to tell my grand kids. ;)<br /><br />We concluded day one in California Adventure.<br /><br />Anabelle ADORED Soaring over California ride, and, not gonna lie, I cry just about every time I go on it. I think I just really, really feel pride of the Golden State! I know I'm weird. Anabelle just squealed and kicked her feet and laughed the whole time and was SO AMAZED and kept asking over and over<span style="font-style: italic;"> "are we really flying?!? Is this for reals?!" </span>It was a bonding moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRyHud73exuZLYTJqIiIdW12PIrvnqlfgN0fy8U1DTcP1299nJgztSIEGWmU888_hyphenhyphenidoVlgyPEJ7Y1f9BEbTP0Fra3bmvkn_IKrfaIfdMBaglBPqJng1Szcf0YUK1PAccXIWYNFtSt4/s1600/IMG_5244+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjCRyHud73exuZLYTJqIiIdW12PIrvnqlfgN0fy8U1DTcP1299nJgztSIEGWmU888_hyphenhyphenidoVlgyPEJ7Y1f9BEbTP0Fra3bmvkn_IKrfaIfdMBaglBPqJng1Szcf0YUK1PAccXIWYNFtSt4/s320/IMG_5244+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581228744108883378" border="0" /></a><br />I mentioned earlier Dawson <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">couldn't</span> WAIT to ride the Tower of Terror. When he told the kids at school he was going to Disneyland and how he <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">couldn't</span> wait to ride the Haunted Mansion (which I made a big deal about not knowing if they were ready for), some little booger planted seeds of wonder in my innocent baby's head about the evil Tower. The cool boys at the lunch table all told him it was awesome and super scary and he absolutely must ride it. He told us over and over again about how it said something about saying "goodbye to the earth!," and throughout the day at Disneyland I would catch him staring longingly at it off in the distance. He had a lot of questions about the structural integrity as the time approached to ride it, as it was built to look old and falling apart... I assured him Grandpa the builder extraordinaire wouldn't allow his family inside a building that wasn't built to code. He just about had a nervous breakdown once we got inside he just couldn't take the suspense. Anabelle had no qualms at all about the giant free fall she was about to take (ignorance is bliss!). After the ride was over... I think they had both had about enough terror to last a lifetime in them. They were <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">sososososoSO </span>scared.<br /><br />Anabelle said "It hurt my tummy so bad I couldn't even scream!" and Dawson said it <span style="font-style: italic;">wasn't as bad as he though</span>t... but did NOT want to ride again.<br /><br />Valuable teaching moment and life lesson: Don't listen to the cool kids at school. They lie. Listen to mommy. And sometimes daddy. ;)<br /><br />Day 2 was just as fun. Anabelle was Jesse from Toy Story, and Dawson dressed in his size 3T pirate costume from our dress up archives. He looked SO CUTE in his skull <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">bandanna</span>... which lasted long enough for this ONE picture...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NxL6rh9GLKnipift_trzcoeqid48bzOVo3IMUt3dG8V07E-1QSEFGXYSNODAGf_qbCr_MvGndJq5lIsEqieRepDXA5e0BkoeDtzf8Pd21VL5MpGQObX_Cef0SC2sDnNR6gUc53lBoSo/s1600/IMG_5259+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEj4NxL6rh9GLKnipift_trzcoeqid48bzOVo3IMUt3dG8V07E-1QSEFGXYSNODAGf_qbCr_MvGndJq5lIsEqieRepDXA5e0BkoeDtzf8Pd21VL5MpGQObX_Cef0SC2sDnNR6gUc53lBoSo/s320/IMG_5259+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578240333924380354" border="0" /></a>...and then it was 'hot and it itched his head and it was bothering him and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">wahhhhh</span>!' so he took it off... and looked a LOT like Sir Elton John in the younger years with his frilly shirt and cool shades. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2o68_NUGvzWZgW3d4dAEqTmic4figkpIUU4aYN_il34c2MByRq0UVDOSYVdF4HrXADgKgOxrhHF95uoCGNMQB55C4s22tZZrFY68kQpRcYk-xtXyO1ZQUZ8N_dzbKP1JEWC0EgY3_Ew/s1600/IMG_5281+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS2o68_NUGvzWZgW3d4dAEqTmic4figkpIUU4aYN_il34c2MByRq0UVDOSYVdF4HrXADgKgOxrhHF95uoCGNMQB55C4s22tZZrFY68kQpRcYk-xtXyO1ZQUZ8N_dzbKP1JEWC0EgY3_Ew/s320/IMG_5281+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581224807675162770" border="0" /></a><br />Whatever. Pirate or aspiring <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">rock star</span>... he still pulled it off. What a kid.<br /><br />Luckily the Elton getup was temporary... because Dawson chose the coolest <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">souvenir</span> of all...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGV8DVNnNk7qKldKRgOFg0uHRO_NIwcup7Ql85QjYKZIXV3eUlXhhzFUwt0htmDLaV3aKSkF68qJY5rXy9bcuXwG_YQRMS3Qzvz3ltU6n_CQc7UBNB5HKkInvtgWb0AGXJS_LOv0R71Y4/s1600/IMG_5287+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGV8DVNnNk7qKldKRgOFg0uHRO_NIwcup7Ql85QjYKZIXV3eUlXhhzFUwt0htmDLaV3aKSkF68qJY5rXy9bcuXwG_YQRMS3Qzvz3ltU6n_CQc7UBNB5HKkInvtgWb0AGXJS_LOv0R71Y4/s320/IMG_5287+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578239402927484482" border="0" /></a><br />An Indiana Jones set complete with a gun, a whip, a hat, a pouch of jewels (that he <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">didn't</span> have to steal from any princesses!), and a treasure map! What a MAN this kid is... he must have known deep down his Mommy has had a crush on Indiana Jones since she was 6 years old herself. <span style="font-style: italic;">*SWOON*</span><br /><br />I won't bore you with every single detail.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jGMpH4Aex_Hj04iDEeA1rzbsNkRcjBEcNBCgWEWJaR-5-F6O3-SgKVSiEuULCm1f9rF2iGa8mCPpPuHTgOQUN6SRNRPaDFuevO0NwfXu7OXH_wDagipCU_VQkDqiqHd-_znHz4ZMiUc/s1600/IMG_5284+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEg_jGMpH4Aex_Hj04iDEeA1rzbsNkRcjBEcNBCgWEWJaR-5-F6O3-SgKVSiEuULCm1f9rF2iGa8mCPpPuHTgOQUN6SRNRPaDFuevO0NwfXu7OXH_wDagipCU_VQkDqiqHd-_znHz4ZMiUc/s320/IMG_5284+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578240325620651986" border="0" /></a> We all had a great time.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREC8qkDnJDxixc_OP0hBs-BUuz6LGS0AXqDrtPiVJSmEdCmQ7c3qqXil6250n5O2BWT-h3ErXnu752H3Xbm23OTndOfNiVmoD6FNssIW8uAV9StyZOLlOV_Pi1u5hJLUHi4z2cicIbok/s1600/IMG_5300+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgREC8qkDnJDxixc_OP0hBs-BUuz6LGS0AXqDrtPiVJSmEdCmQ7c3qqXil6250n5O2BWT-h3ErXnu752H3Xbm23OTndOfNiVmoD6FNssIW8uAV9StyZOLlOV_Pi1u5hJLUHi4z2cicIbok/s320/IMG_5300+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578239396906308258" border="0" /></a><br />Anabelle was very particular about which characters she would or would not take a photo with.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjiHjZClXQQAB-8oGgAeJD56mxf6QVL2Dy262a5wmz6_qRc-nE7MUCPc6ojuecfTycr4CIsKxOREXg88wAyQmuZaOmcVduuTBg6AB1f0f_8ZSuWOynAsf5whC2-YlTmpaAsqasMVB7OY/s1600/IMG_5283+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAjiHjZClXQQAB-8oGgAeJD56mxf6QVL2Dy262a5wmz6_qRc-nE7MUCPc6ojuecfTycr4CIsKxOREXg88wAyQmuZaOmcVduuTBg6AB1f0f_8ZSuWOynAsf5whC2-YlTmpaAsqasMVB7OY/s320/IMG_5283+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578240330808315570" border="0" /></a><br />I feel like she used good discretion.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDucvav-CfXAwgr4a2bla2zIubxRzWyLvR_LuqgVj7a-1aKbgnpEN_ee_k86rU474eRbuNOUfisWLIS-hv4bLFBJsgqTJQtdla92VXsP_42ha0Z8gr64JFGHG0catWP7Jetv93Pd4BDE/s1600/IMG_5319+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDucvav-CfXAwgr4a2bla2zIubxRzWyLvR_LuqgVj7a-1aKbgnpEN_ee_k86rU474eRbuNOUfisWLIS-hv4bLFBJsgqTJQtdla92VXsP_42ha0Z8gr64JFGHG0catWP7Jetv93Pd4BDE/s320/IMG_5319+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578239392661796034" border="0" /></a><br />The days all ended with the kids being carried home half awake <span style="font-style: italic;">begging and pleading</span> for the mercy of bedtime and snoring away with dirt and sticky still caked between their fingers in a matter of seconds.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3oaypcTY2_ptAp42Bk1TSr9BKTsDaO29q6-haUkWJ0e3RPobTuzn3WzJS13T8nNNwoU4RzTo444B2pTGTQ3z9UO9ByOrIDdMatgLsKbyxMcTzFzr3HMZTzorD4nf0MCJUSe2jKACOJME/s1600/IMG_5311+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEh3oaypcTY2_ptAp42Bk1TSr9BKTsDaO29q6-haUkWJ0e3RPobTuzn3WzJS13T8nNNwoU4RzTo444B2pTGTQ3z9UO9ByOrIDdMatgLsKbyxMcTzFzr3HMZTzorD4nf0MCJUSe2jKACOJME/s320/IMG_5311+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578239392761529426" border="0" /></a><br />The mark of any good time is complete and utter exhaustion...<br /><br />Watching them have the time of their lives and getting to spend quality family time in the beautiful sunshine in the dead of Winter for three whole days was the closest thing to actual magic a mom could ask for.<br /><br /><3Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-23345162669191238702011-02-25T14:52:00.001-08:002011-02-25T14:58:43.976-08:00Take No PrisonersYep.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWPCssJdTMB4HDOMow4iNwVVtt6ZA38lyI6FIljgoB0VHaWiFBJAVke7T0R0j1hkPh7SENERTvrjFStxlwA1O55uHaDD9NiDmCDAN4wwjVAqsivYkLoJA5aAx76PLIfAW25Dj_gCwKdE/s1600/IMG_5419.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/AVvXsEjYWPCssJdTMB4HDOMow4iNwVVtt6ZA38lyI6FIljgoB0VHaWiFBJAVke7T0R0j1hkPh7SENERTvrjFStxlwA1O55uHaDD9NiDmCDAN4wwjVAqsivYkLoJA5aAx76PLIfAW25Dj_gCwKdE/s320/IMG_5419.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577764594867233554" border="0" /></a>Today, daddy got HIS massage.<br /><br />He also got a wedding veil.<br /><br />Anabelle said she can be a bride. And Tyson can be a bride. But I am not allowed to be a bride, because I already got a turn when I married dad.<br /><br />Alrighty, then. Noted!Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-77645232405127658532011-02-22T13:39:00.000-08:002011-02-22T14:42:38.075-08:00Spa DayDon't be jealous...<br /><br />But I had the most ah-maaaazing massage experience this weekend.<br /><br /><ul><li><span style="font-size:130%;">It was <span style="font-weight: bold;">affordable</span>!</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">The location was <span style="font-weight: bold;">convenient</span>!</span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">The masseuse was<span style="font-weight: bold;"> incredibly gorgeous!</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size:130%;">The atmosphere made me feel <span style="font-weight: bold;">right at home</span>...</span></li></ul><br />Oh, wait.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was at home.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuV1EsCEj76lY-eAjj04pHHjdHKUbzA6jWAKBskF_w0jQfqI7ZFOMO2gEWKeWQ_IIT6rP7zTkF4zXS6uM6HeCpDFpBZGXlgS6uzcoILE6eXwqmGFA-0umQosrARjbgIG61Me7mpZLWLgM/s1600/IMG_5376+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEiuV1EsCEj76lY-eAjj04pHHjdHKUbzA6jWAKBskF_w0jQfqI7ZFOMO2gEWKeWQ_IIT6rP7zTkF4zXS6uM6HeCpDFpBZGXlgS6uzcoILE6eXwqmGFA-0umQosrARjbgIG61Me7mpZLWLgM/s320/IMG_5376+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634661893077186" border="0" /></a><br />My sweet little boy masterminded this afternoon of pampering for his Mom since I "worked so hard at the grocery store for him," and he "thought I should just come home and they could <span style="font-style: italic;">do all the work for me the rest of the night."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gulp</span>.<br /><br />(<span style="font-style: italic;">Im so incredibly touched/ afraid of the aftermath of this idea...</span>)<br /><br />But. It ended up being awfully adorable, and quite entertaining!<br /><br />He got his lovely assistant involved... Dawson sat on a 'stool' and worked my feet, back, neck, each finger, and even my scalp, while Anabelle got me water in a sports water bottle, set out puzzles for me to do 'in case I got bored...' and even got her singing Aurora doll (thanks, Auntie Jessica...) to serenade me for a little background music (right next to my ear).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI15x3atLvJq8vkcXXar1upENc-l9Km5G3PzB5h0Y56J45X2jrajAqQorUss7DHGRz7l5JqnaldxrSt1igQVNT_MCY6P1v3fd3dw-7Wlp_jNqXI4LmuMkgBMGifRXRgA9KM1u9hcLIJtU/s1600/IMG_5377+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgI15x3atLvJq8vkcXXar1upENc-l9Km5G3PzB5h0Y56J45X2jrajAqQorUss7DHGRz7l5JqnaldxrSt1igQVNT_MCY6P1v3fd3dw-7Wlp_jNqXI4LmuMkgBMGifRXRgA9KM1u9hcLIJtU/s320/IMG_5377+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634660126561010" border="0" /></a><br />Dawson must have seen this happen somehow or heard the spa experience talked about. He frequently asked if I was comfortable enough, if I needed anything else, like a drink (<span style="font-style: italic;">Absoloutely!, I'll take a house chardonnay please!, oh, sure, creme de la juice box is a great second option...</span>), if the lighting was OK, or did I want the curtains closed so I could sleep, and complimented me several times on liking that I had "large spots" for him to rub. I'm guessing he was comparing them to Anabelle?! Hmmm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lvEODNrIWmSQZysRnky8031u9lT1iWF0u05SO_PC-ZdVWv7TV1iaDNYlsod60NI1wqhYoj3CizPsR64BH1vlXwAZ3jjv6E9ixyhi2Ec0vLaaFINML9TOmigmbdLzXqKSLT9mNJ1HjK4/s1600/IMG_5380+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-lvEODNrIWmSQZysRnky8031u9lT1iWF0u05SO_PC-ZdVWv7TV1iaDNYlsod60NI1wqhYoj3CizPsR64BH1vlXwAZ3jjv6E9ixyhi2Ec0vLaaFINML9TOmigmbdLzXqKSLT9mNJ1HjK4/s320/IMG_5380+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634769636916994" border="0" /></a><br />Then, I glanced over my shoulder, and noticed they had dragged THIS little gem out... that I made them for their hot cocoa stand at Christmas time...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No such thing as a free lunch, people! </span><br /><br />Even with the tip, I'm pretty sure I came out ahead...<br /><br />I was so enjoying my rub down (it wasn't actually half bad!) that I accidentally told them so, and the kids figured why stop there? ;) Miss Anabelle Drug out all her hair accessories and her new makeup stash from the Bibbity Bobbity Bo-tique at Disneyland!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYL5GIV2yFW37vwnLxom7rOcNBO6vowhyLF1p589qPSXf-DWeVAKrmiwTuOLo3scBr0Yhy-hR9vfRxBIdcnJMHEBe2rLn2XOdsAtgI1lBB_ld5LgZyRqeQaZDdA8P_i12SHM24T_Rd88o/s1600/IMG_5385+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh36b76W5kc3slnR1bu9n9napi2LrPP_x2mDu4u6OrqbiDait705uxL71H8ZfZRUihPxLqnnV5wSZ4zlKOEg0O7clg_eS7zQ7t9U9fOUBJC-n4Zd8ifoeHgYikEhfqi6kGNrpYlS7SQ418/s1600/IMG_5386+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh36b76W5kc3slnR1bu9n9napi2LrPP_x2mDu4u6OrqbiDait705uxL71H8ZfZRUihPxLqnnV5wSZ4zlKOEg0O7clg_eS7zQ7t9U9fOUBJC-n4Zd8ifoeHgYikEhfqi6kGNrpYlS7SQ418/s320/IMG_5386+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634293688134274" border="0" /></a><br />They carefully laid out all my accessory options... and asked how I wanted to be styled. I asked what they could do... and Dawson said "Um. I don't know, <span style="font-style: italic;">lets find out!</span>"<br /><br />Uhhhh, that doesn't sound scary. Nope. Not at all.<br /><br />At one point, I opened my eyes when Anabelle started muttering something about <span style="font-style: italic;">just needing to take a little bit since it was pretty long</span>... and literally <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> is what I saw:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM1StlR6aqwQaLFZgAyYC6Vb0-SuEt7PLfwPJ54xIvMllqhROFwCB5F1z0dNCxV32hGJ6NNdpnEp3mknHFZpx_9i8d4_Sc_4fpSIdg6nH86mJ4pSyDvrbeYA6m3NlpEBm-z3fBajdAXzU/s1600/IMG_5384+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhM1StlR6aqwQaLFZgAyYC6Vb0-SuEt7PLfwPJ54xIvMllqhROFwCB5F1z0dNCxV32hGJ6NNdpnEp3mknHFZpx_9i8d4_Sc_4fpSIdg6nH86mJ4pSyDvrbeYA6m3NlpEBm-z3fBajdAXzU/s320/IMG_5384+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634653649189058" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Check, please.</span><br /><br />In all seriousness tho, Anabelle proceeded to do her makeup...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRoN1YvrFB3K4TcBuBXb5mDYcjRJRxZENdcWNZUf5aEVj_D3yJ3jUMxz1g79OqBzrQ-nS9eoHSpJSpMxd83MH4VSuez3e6KaCIQed5mUVt4H92poZIQ_H7WlC5OYamM5qePEgy1ILv0w/s1600/IMG_5381+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRoN1YvrFB3K4TcBuBXb5mDYcjRJRxZENdcWNZUf5aEVj_D3yJ3jUMxz1g79OqBzrQ-nS9eoHSpJSpMxd83MH4VSuez3e6KaCIQed5mUVt4H92poZIQ_H7WlC5OYamM5qePEgy1ILv0w/s320/IMG_5381+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634656407718914" border="0" /></a><br />My makeup... (bright pink Rapunzel braids and hot pink hair bow *barely pictured*, compliments of Dawson)...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzhm8Jvg6ItlWYNZE4wXE4rKyzFKPUm8ZbjtFg7NZas7E2DR5v1uKkYumpepbU2PpX8iLMugQ8te37cjOwG2aWDdpSmfpFNTVpZsPnhamCWNfnIopJWh0jjUi6jGbivqVlQeDvr4VDyTQ/s1600/IMG_5388+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjzhm8Jvg6ItlWYNZE4wXE4rKyzFKPUm8ZbjtFg7NZas7E2DR5v1uKkYumpepbU2PpX8iLMugQ8te37cjOwG2aWDdpSmfpFNTVpZsPnhamCWNfnIopJWh0jjUi6jGbivqVlQeDvr4VDyTQ/s320/IMG_5388+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634288533635810" border="0" /></a><br />And yes, i'm afraid to say by the end of our activity, even Dawson fell victim to Anabelle's newly discovered talent.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCP6b6p6_QSeGy9phfOOQhll1InQLRF-jdSPXzkgGlN8m598Fdd81PHvhwMcQq_XrfRFKP6CpBsTjk2MXZbW6sLyjcuMhyphenhyphenV0SiaxjVfayDwLR564qJc2jQT8MyA3kmNnW7E_CUpod1l8/s1600/IMG_5398+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEheCP6b6p6_QSeGy9phfOOQhll1InQLRF-jdSPXzkgGlN8m598Fdd81PHvhwMcQq_XrfRFKP6CpBsTjk2MXZbW6sLyjcuMhyphenhyphenV0SiaxjVfayDwLR564qJc2jQT8MyA3kmNnW7E_CUpod1l8/s320/IMG_5398+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634011619072546" border="0" /></a><br />I will say, not half bad for a budding artist! Although I must say, in the future I will be sure to put the scissors up high until after she passes the State mandated beautician's test...<br /><br />By the end of our little play date, I felt like a queen (and probably looked like one, too... queen of some martian territory, that is!).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheMov_9UHpOiUqpFa_jVyHHY2Hs09Hmb9YGvcDzJybnUWddZKs9JJF9asv09IKFzpsfHaE6ehFII61cNMV4z37rzjU6nbYuA6PI-svUseRQVkT6G1npXhOr42H6C553vuK4_fM9PprSbs/s1600/IMG_5387+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEheMov_9UHpOiUqpFa_jVyHHY2Hs09Hmb9YGvcDzJybnUWddZKs9JJF9asv09IKFzpsfHaE6ehFII61cNMV4z37rzjU6nbYuA6PI-svUseRQVkT6G1npXhOr42H6C553vuK4_fM9PprSbs/s320/IMG_5387+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634291810218082" border="0" /></a><br />Know who else looked like a queen?...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgFila3oSeiIzM0n6QADlipxzlce0QAzfcExPgvCvllXfDLbBOdseozGuTWPInOhbyNBIR0ymXWZXqPcxEiaYwbmWkaIoTJl45dII-D_wN7pCW1SJRSHwz58GZCwJeS2oKPH9ZXkxmVA/s1600/IMG_5397+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhAgFila3oSeiIzM0n6QADlipxzlce0QAzfcExPgvCvllXfDLbBOdseozGuTWPInOhbyNBIR0ymXWZXqPcxEiaYwbmWkaIoTJl45dII-D_wN7pCW1SJRSHwz58GZCwJeS2oKPH9ZXkxmVA/s320/IMG_5397+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634017577012930" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq0dmWF5KPAxPZCRbkhovfJeejzh5m23oYvmGXa9n9OAjHDAnxbM_wgNWLZmDM3HdxmH33_Du5hx23Nv7RKNFARtenEY3jkCGShoTqIXatb2MyXbJ9CgHY74esvoIkU1rnL6KjTnkEHok/s1600/IMG_5413+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjq0dmWF5KPAxPZCRbkhovfJeejzh5m23oYvmGXa9n9OAjHDAnxbM_wgNWLZmDM3HdxmH33_Du5hx23Nv7RKNFARtenEY3jkCGShoTqIXatb2MyXbJ9CgHY74esvoIkU1rnL6KjTnkEHok/s320/IMG_5413+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576634008163329490" border="0" /></a><br />Don't worry. The kids assured me she loved every moment of it.<br /><br />I'm choosing to believe them.<br /><br />The best part is how I specifically told them I don't think she minds the hair clips, but <span style="font-style: italic;">absolutely</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">no lotions or hairsprays allowed...</span><br /><br />And this morning, when poor pretty kitty smelled like a potpourri factory exploded on her and I interrogated the little delinquents about <span style="font-style: italic;">why that may be</span>?, Anabelle looked at me with the <span style="font-style: italic;">guiltiest</span> look I have ever seen on her face and said...<br /><br />"... <span style="font-style: italic;">Well</span>...She smells like that because <span style="font-style: italic;">we did exactly what you told us not to do</span>..."<br /><br />HA!<br /><br />At least she's honest.<br /><br />I wanted to die laughing. And I really really want to give our poor cat a bath.<br /><br />But truely, that was the sweetest experience. They even cleaned up the giant mess they made, which the mother in me was secretly obsessing over since the house was as close to clean as it gets when they started their brilliant idea.<br /><br />My kids are so good to me.<br /><br />Who needs a 'real' massage, anyway?<br /><br /><br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-68826530099827576552011-02-14T11:07:00.001-08:002011-02-14T12:15:34.166-08:00A Day of Love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiffZdYG0O_Olri8_YxvOQpwoYLWemXHxpOmyG5t0uFnL_aZA_7oR3Qztlzz0FBPvNKBrmVVeb-Zy5fl7b40zrb3H9zlOX-ZgfDCUr5fDTJUhTOaIQPTc9fteWE-vRBEk33XTUubhP44w/s1600/IMG_5344+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><br /></a><br />This morning, I am reminded of how rich I am to wake up to these lovely little faces every single day.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTx3Ny9q6usx9hKCIoaLus4zKKC-ATDiX4xHYE_CJhnJlRvOadYwYNnPHx271STQ4y_P-zE14h0CZXGa8yDFhqyT_nKPBgdMrQ4BpQvngQ_fMRxphA7_fwI_imsK5s_fckaGql4DRm1E/s1600/IMG_5348+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTx3Ny9q6usx9hKCIoaLus4zKKC-ATDiX4xHYE_CJhnJlRvOadYwYNnPHx271STQ4y_P-zE14h0CZXGa8yDFhqyT_nKPBgdMrQ4BpQvngQ_fMRxphA7_fwI_imsK5s_fckaGql4DRm1E/s320/IMG_5348+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573630837714946418" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I feel blessed by how simple it is to make my children happy, and try hard to focus on the fact that Disneyland is just as special to them as waking up to parents who leave them cheesy little Valentine mementos and are available to build forts and eat candy kisses with them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaiFIppYfRwheGQ85EgbMFDjdgmJM3ksdCpTLSndPalugvMJOkrqfbYBLhPaIMDk0AEoq5ea6gtogJwVmbY3BObGxsJkkpm4RUWsAtPSOp904zdUTj-47qznrMCFR0WicIlZoZD-jlFY/s1600/IMG_5343+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaiFIppYfRwheGQ85EgbMFDjdgmJM3ksdCpTLSndPalugvMJOkrqfbYBLhPaIMDk0AEoq5ea6gtogJwVmbY3BObGxsJkkpm4RUWsAtPSOp904zdUTj-47qznrMCFR0WicIlZoZD-jlFY/s320/IMG_5343+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573630859248119906" border="0" /></a><br />I am thankful for the simple things in life, like a home, being healthy, and having jobs that cover our basic needs and even a few of our "wants."<br /><br />I am the luckiest girl that ever was for the girlfriends that keep me sane and laughing till my insides hurt.<br /><br />My kids have the most amazing tribe of grandparents, and aunties, and uncles, and friends, and neighbors.<br /><br />And my husband is just lovely for appreciating my distorted humor, being patient with my quirks and insecurities, and his exceptional kindness and gentle loving spirit toward the tiny darlings. He manages quite well at keeping me entertained in the most unexpected ways even a decade after the I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">DOs</span> are said and done...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OMLGrZMSpXc1mf0dBmoLDe3PtCc8k8WaTx2QnRAIZVwxnBGzAPcNWNUY_GWLbo2pzJ-xh7dGhtR8GAGv1glj6Vt2at9Z6gUPTM1zqD32GHvgDrQdX_x_jPaZlTpUwIUndQU4T0sOlA8/s1600/IMG_5349+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxQqyD1jwyNQES1o-v1v4pgOo9E6gS7poHzp_Mvh9DUYijuMOENZFBSqiBcQpOilwFuysMxIwmFFGTc47wJUg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></a><br /><br />My life is so full of love- today and every other day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OMLGrZMSpXc1mf0dBmoLDe3PtCc8k8WaTx2QnRAIZVwxnBGzAPcNWNUY_GWLbo2pzJ-xh7dGhtR8GAGv1glj6Vt2at9Z6gUPTM1zqD32GHvgDrQdX_x_jPaZlTpUwIUndQU4T0sOlA8/s1600/IMG_5349+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4OMLGrZMSpXc1mf0dBmoLDe3PtCc8k8WaTx2QnRAIZVwxnBGzAPcNWNUY_GWLbo2pzJ-xh7dGhtR8GAGv1glj6Vt2at9Z6gUPTM1zqD32GHvgDrQdX_x_jPaZlTpUwIUndQU4T0sOlA8/s320/IMG_5349+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573630828187033522" border="0" /></a><br />Chocolate and home made cards are always a nice touch, tho. ;)<br /><br />Hope you are all feeling the love!<br /><br />X0X0X0X0X0X0Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-74058578331057550832011-02-07T09:42:00.000-08:002011-02-07T11:10:40.552-08:00All Hail the Queen of 5!Tomorrow our <span style="font-style: italic;">baby</span> turns 5.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqi3a_pSbqa6KzP0SqBA4vrcNukYbBNffm1JkJ7gKcsIhOVdOW9nmzCd8rXFK5kiQd8nt1ncZTI6cTud1oX81wHmweZK5Qk3BCLJljB9tAFJh02T27m_iPjLqQ8tiy_boeZ3HrcKEpxz4/s1600/IMG_5099+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><br /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdvVkf3jxD0NrhnPOsChBL0sZvLen-H3wDGPnHeYTHnoI4YuataGX65GON77LZ6kGldQiAqc1GQ1D-YXUgQ3CBiL5-xO2JpBJSFkrZ3-jgbNkyDuFELlTQshu67JtaEBQNTRFL3-lBL8/s1600/IMG_5102.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/AVvXsEiwdvVkf3jxD0NrhnPOsChBL0sZvLen-H3wDGPnHeYTHnoI4YuataGX65GON77LZ6kGldQiAqc1GQ1D-YXUgQ3CBiL5-xO2JpBJSFkrZ3-jgbNkyDuFELlTQshu67JtaEBQNTRFL3-lBL8/s320/IMG_5102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571019747519161634" border="0" /></a><br />FIVE.<br /><br />I just can't believe how fast it went. Every day, I just miss my sweet natured, belly laughing cartoon character of a baby girl that rolled across my living room and danced in her crib the minute you opened her bedroom door... but I am also completely smitten with this sweet and spicy little girl who pours me pretend tea in her beloved mermaid ball gown and begs me to sing to her and tickle scratch her back every night.<br /><br />Tomorrow we are taking a family trip to Disneyland. This time, the kids are as excited as we are which only makes us more aware of the fact that we are undeniably grown up ourselves.<br /><br />I am especially aware of time these days as Tyson and I have both lost grandparents since the start of 2011. I am proud of our families and each member who plays a part in making our daily fairy tale possible. I appreciate these passing moments so much more, realizing the good ones and the awful ones are all so temporary. And, I feel so incredibly hopeful and inspired for the future of our family that awaits our beautiful little legacies.<br /><br />SO. With that said... here is a glimpse of the beautiful Anabelle Lee, and what her heart looks like at five years old:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ne3R1Ke4MvVS77-I_CYxtT66OnQi2oTRIesDpSl6wE37o0aHSGREVKCbd0E3n5WQVNfNc1PQYaOxCh82DBQb5VOreJPIWFo0z1hRXwQS7zPHZ1bR5qddwAVNCQktgg7jv3gww-QB5rU/s1600/IMG_4939.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/AVvXsEj7ne3R1Ke4MvVS77-I_CYxtT66OnQi2oTRIesDpSl6wE37o0aHSGREVKCbd0E3n5WQVNfNc1PQYaOxCh82DBQb5VOreJPIWFo0z1hRXwQS7zPHZ1bR5qddwAVNCQktgg7jv3gww-QB5rU/s320/IMG_4939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571019231445530306" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What is your favorite food in the whole world?:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Fruit snack gummys!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What is the best thing about having a brother?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">That we can share toys<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRf4Ul3Jj_jKUGTjfPkhWIcsnhdZ5tO5YP1xp6XbgrovFlClIlHiK_4UifPSpTVgucz4-eIO-v1gWhsvVzZmh0Gc6xjvsYmAQIurJchghM2VQAtIFJi5tt5OcOfe-10Y43F1fEE4Szf6M/s1600/IMG_5110+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhRf4Ul3Jj_jKUGTjfPkhWIcsnhdZ5tO5YP1xp6XbgrovFlClIlHiK_4UifPSpTVgucz4-eIO-v1gWhsvVzZmh0Gc6xjvsYmAQIurJchghM2VQAtIFJi5tt5OcOfe-10Y43F1fEE4Szf6M/s320/IMG_5110+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571018657020159538" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What is your favorite thing about your Daddy?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">That he plays with me, and he takes me to the Father Daughter Dance.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5mw7yCtWY7WK95Pthkiebg2A8skVQgfRx30xJ8KBYHpi3xBO50XNkm4BM0KQe5u6tCD802tzIFtLLtBpui2RzdVY924DQy6156QSRc1Qug84mIKW_P3IRPYgOziv2exQn1UTASukyA8s/s1600/IMG_5066+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEg5mw7yCtWY7WK95Pthkiebg2A8skVQgfRx30xJ8KBYHpi3xBO50XNkm4BM0KQe5u6tCD802tzIFtLLtBpui2RzdVY924DQy6156QSRc1Qug84mIKW_P3IRPYgOziv2exQn1UTASukyA8s/s320/IMG_5066+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571019208539753282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite animal:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Deer</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJx5nvMwPNi_8mOFAWNxFMRckQaJFPJ1iD18vaEMCti209dudi23OQbM7n-XeF5WkmU8B0eITVKiv0eIO879oqs-ZZ6smss0ej8TiGT06hmHpCAqDQbb6CeIAn72CAs48OA9cxF0pPmc/s1600/IMG_5095+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEggJx5nvMwPNi_8mOFAWNxFMRckQaJFPJ1iD18vaEMCti209dudi23OQbM7n-XeF5WkmU8B0eITVKiv0eIO879oqs-ZZ6smss0ej8TiGT06hmHpCAqDQbb6CeIAn72CAs48OA9cxF0pPmc/s320/IMG_5095+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571018674799761346" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite color:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Pink</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite thing to wear:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Costumes!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZDb29_fZrI8jPFOoAO_8V7jhoOu-922W9j1T3pPnP6TofLLw1kVV_GeJ4nPnPUtlf8T5UI4FU5zWzhAQqpgrBwNnG2X8k1y4YR5lioHsbwWOgl97MfQZ40wSWGwZV6Tac3jX2Z2vVpfs/s1600/IMG_5047+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhZDb29_fZrI8jPFOoAO_8V7jhoOu-922W9j1T3pPnP6TofLLw1kVV_GeJ4nPnPUtlf8T5UI4FU5zWzhAQqpgrBwNnG2X8k1y4YR5lioHsbwWOgl97MfQZ40wSWGwZV6Tac3jX2Z2vVpfs/s320/IMG_5047+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571019218453473554" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite game:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dawson's video games when he lets me play them</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite place to go:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Yogert Creations and DISNEYLAND!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What is the best thing about your mommy?:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">That you are finally letting me turn 5 </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What is the best thing about YOU?:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I have the best friends.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikb19vPyKbAwhcHbktMk2fBqrY3lIMLjKNwJbjoDizfXvTpWmPXQREemSEcjRYhEmnUHbWt5jgcVvlJvFY52VsJTcnwDg32p1xbvJCvgPztO5S73cC7fbh3YX4dksrW9-mjKS4wn2iank/s1600/IMG_5091+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEikb19vPyKbAwhcHbktMk2fBqrY3lIMLjKNwJbjoDizfXvTpWmPXQREemSEcjRYhEmnUHbWt5jgcVvlJvFY52VsJTcnwDg32p1xbvJCvgPztO5S73cC7fbh3YX4dksrW9-mjKS4wn2iank/s320/IMG_5091+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571018680345205682" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM24EI7e2i9ZsF31IR9VWeiy42xBuLmudv9EBRdYQ0-PY6GXx_dPEXkv77baiCiCy9RACePkkBPJ6HYrMp_CgN30-YQCscjTVvjxLV0C7dEtGG0RfBJjQ41Zl6YHUn-0JPP99ncoA6vu0/s1600/IMG_5086+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEiM24EI7e2i9ZsF31IR9VWeiy42xBuLmudv9EBRdYQ0-PY6GXx_dPEXkv77baiCiCy9RACePkkBPJ6HYrMp_CgN30-YQCscjTVvjxLV0C7dEtGG0RfBJjQ41Zl6YHUn-0JPP99ncoA6vu0/s320/IMG_5086+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571018688185758658" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What are you really good at?:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Drawing pictures for you</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What are you not so good at?:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Nothing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Who is the best singer?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Taylor Swift.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What do you want to be when you grow up?:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">A gymnastics teacher.</span><br /><br /><br />Ah, Anabelle Lee.<br />How deeply you are loved, your heart is beautiful, and your dreams are too.<br />You may turn 5 for now, but in the words of your precious Taylor Swift... Don't you ever grow up!<br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-86189607645811204082011-01-10T12:49:00.001-08:002011-01-10T14:04:58.390-08:00Backgrounds, Frostbite, and UnicyclesHello faithful reader (s?)!<br /><br />Well,well,well... Lookie here.<br /><br />A new background! I spent the weekend with a hunky tech support extraordinaire learning the foreign language of blogger command script. It was no small undertaking! Who knew there were so many little details to perfectly line up?! There are still a few things that aren't mastered in the new layout... but its a welcome change for now. Thanks, Tyson! I <span style="font-style: italic;">just might</span> be ready to mess it up... I mean... try doing it myself next time!<br /><br />Getting excited (and by excited I mean sweaty palms, pit in my stomach, would rather eat a handful of live bait lets get this over with) about learning to swim soon. Step one in operation amphibeth: stop whining and sign up for a tri already (I still havnt committed to which one Im doing). Just as soon as it warms up a smidgen... I'll be hitting the lanes, and deciding how long I need to prepare. Its been fffffreezing cold around here lately!<br /><br />On Saturday, Bethany and I started off early for a rather ambitious bike ride/run route we had all mapped out. We got about 4 miles down the road and just about drove head first into on coming traffic to end the icy misery it was <span style="font-style: italic;">so cold</span>. That is the closest I've ever come to frostbite/hypothermia, there were nasty visions of trips to urgent care and amputated body limbs flashing in my brain. 2 days later I am finally feeling (almost) warm again, and have regained feeling in my toes and fingertips- which I wont be taking for granted anytime soon! Note to self: invest in windproof gloves, <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">pronto</span>! Do not pass go or collect $200 until obtained. </span><br /><br />Speaking of $200...<br /><br />I had a sweet lead on a guitar from a craigslister. I got real excited about it... and in typical craigslist fashion, he didn't get back to me like he promised and fell off the radar. The search continues to find the right beginner for me to learn on... I'm trying hard to be patient and not buy a piece of junk, but not get more than I need or will use either. I <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> find a great teacher... and I have a hunch we'll really hit it off. She was <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> hard to get in to... she has a tight schedule with her demanding friends, work schedule, family life, and all the athletic ambitions she is continually aspiring toward... Bethany Sobraske, you've got your work cut out for you, but I can't wait to get started! ;)<br /><br />The kids are back in school and I think its been a welcome event for all of us. Dawson got to be the "sea star" of the week the first 2 weeks back from Christmas vacation so he had that to look forward to. His pals Sarah and Connor are sharing the honor with him, they have a special wall dedicated to them for the duration of their shining moment, and Dawson filled out the cutest survey I have to share. I could kick myself for not taking a picture of the finished product but here are a few highlights from what I can remember:<br /><br />Q: What is your favorite food?<br />A: Artichokes.<br /><br />Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?<br />A: A daddy.<br /><br />Q: What is something you are really good at?<br />A: Playing video games with my dad.<br /><br />Q: What is something you need to improve on?<br />A: Unicycle riding.<br /><br />Imagine a world where every adult thought being a dad was a dream career, and the thing they fell most short of was riding a unicycle.<br /><br />Kids are so stinking precious. I hope mine never grow up.Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-25619647944199973522011-01-01T22:46:00.000-08:002011-01-01T23:13:37.380-08:00Bucket ListI don't know about resolutions. I think its good to have a business plan for your life... and keep it updated regularly. Its strange to me that theres all this pressure to, like, make a list of all your shortcomings that you intend to improve on just because its January 1 and you're supposed to.<br /><br />I do, however, think self improvement is ALWAYS a good thing! Its hard to make a list of things you want. Theres that weird pressure when its in writing... like you're on the hook to follow thru! Its kind of scary and dangerous... at least that's what I'm telling myself. So here are a few new items for my list of life goals this year.<br /><br />I want to do a triathlon. I will probably hate it and do only one, ever. I don't swim. I don't like it at all, its icky and creepy and cold. But I will follow the girls I roll with right off a cliff... and they tend to jump off some pretty steep ones. The crazy thing is, I find myself enjoying the fall right along with them! I would never have dreamed this would be any ambition of mine, but thanks to Bethany and Kari... I can honestly say I want it. Even if it means I have to swim (gulp!). I am going to start with a sprint distance and go from there. I haven't officially signed up yet for any yet... stay tuned~!<br /><br />I want to learn to play the guitar. Before Im 30. I have awhile to go... but I have a pretty full plate. Its going to take me some time. Its just something I've always felt like I needed to be able to do, but never got around to making it a priority. Funny thing how nobody just hands you time and money and materials and says "OH, did you want to do this?! Here you go!" So ya. I want to do that. Part of it is for me, but the bigger reason is my kids. I want them to see that its never too late to try something new. I want them to not be intimidated by new experiences, but be interested and challenged. Even if its not the guitar. I just want them to know that if you want something bad enough, make it happen. And I want to know that myself too. Its a small thing, but I think it will be a good thing.<br /><br />I really really need to get better at technology. Am I the only 27yr old woman on the planet who doesn't know how to load her own Ipod or burn a CD? As you can see... I changed my blog background. It was an accident. I can't fix it. The tech department is a little backed up around here and... ya, basically its just ridiculous. I need to learn to do these things. I don't want to, I have no interest in it... but I think my kids will laugh at me, and I may become socially obsolete before my time if I don't join the rest of my peers in the 21st century. Dang it.<br /><br />So yah. Those are a few things Im thinking about in terms of self improvement this year. We have a wild agenda in 2011... looking ahead we have a family trip to Disneyland planned in February, A wedding in the Springtime (Carly's gettin hitched!!), A class reunion this summer, our baby girl going to kindergarten in the Fall... Tyson is turning THIRTY!!!!, and by golly... WE ARE going on some kind of honeymoon for our 10 year Anniversary in September. Yep, thats right. I said 10 years. I can't believe it either. And I can't wait.Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-52186928869914744812010-12-27T21:41:00.000-08:002010-12-27T22:31:15.622-08:00Christmas SuprisesMerry Christmas to all!<br /><br />This month has been a blur. We've been keeping up with all the festivities... and trying to stay sane in the midst of a WEEK of rain. Its been a test of patience... but the sunshine the last day and a half has almost melted my heart of holiday stone.<br /><br />Christmas Eve was same as always...<br /><br />We got all dressed up and headed to Tyson's parents house for fancy family dinner and church...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0b3hSGrKa3KSNOUv7Dis3v3iD8x4damtew-2fO3xxh4ZPvrt5a5nhviTH2H9-1-WRFOaHONlfzNlEuiuxhOn7B929copr6Cysal3hzXXJOgynGGCoK5YiKbPcARAhn4EAdTy8wrUBzQ0/s1600/IMG_4734+%2528Medium%2529.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0b3hSGrKa3KSNOUv7Dis3v3iD8x4damtew-2fO3xxh4ZPvrt5a5nhviTH2H9-1-WRFOaHONlfzNlEuiuxhOn7B929copr6Cysal3hzXXJOgynGGCoK5YiKbPcARAhn4EAdTy8wrUBzQ0/s320/IMG_4734+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555611108437420418" border="0" /></a>We didnt get around to Christmas cards this year... but pretend we did and pretend this was the picture on it, mmmmmmkay?<br /><br />We shook all the presents before we left and tried to guess the best we could what was waiting for us...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuysTxj71ROunxfHRwDULztm2wFAHZvKp24DrmTd99pCqY0jNlf7qetkPILNMZsPWhkbgXLBovGmMHzboTJCQ9x__Ffw8HwIDPDJUdDGEMunHLKornmRJTrSIUdS3NhLzR7Yyb7XADAtY/s1600/IMG_4736+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjuysTxj71ROunxfHRwDULztm2wFAHZvKp24DrmTd99pCqY0jNlf7qetkPILNMZsPWhkbgXLBovGmMHzboTJCQ9x__Ffw8HwIDPDJUdDGEMunHLKornmRJTrSIUdS3NhLzR7Yyb7XADAtY/s320/IMG_4736+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555611104121190770" border="0" /></a><br />Dawson and Anabelle scored! Surprise, surprise.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9R6rBHYJJ5SeYRnymwpg_z3gue3NNGASwEzbCBbwDtCfKgRmwXqi11YGa7g0LIi448ajx3T6wy8L6CFZ09T3zic3haS7sC8hynNwknQ9tcyT6z0Yk-PqkDGf9uRBAbjfeln62DmnvLk/s1600/IMG_4753+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEiG9R6rBHYJJ5SeYRnymwpg_z3gue3NNGASwEzbCBbwDtCfKgRmwXqi11YGa7g0LIi448ajx3T6wy8L6CFZ09T3zic3haS7sC8hynNwknQ9tcyT6z0Yk-PqkDGf9uRBAbjfeln62DmnvLk/s320/IMG_4753+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555610134746817938" border="0" /></a>I spent Christmas Eve SICK. Sick, sick, sick. (Nope. Not pregnant). I'll spare you the details... there was not a lot of sleep involved, and Santa was a little on the distracted side of things...<br /><br />But he managed to deliver none-the-less.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYfpZ6fj1KLKt4V2wyAs_ITPH_Dj_Vz3lZjVqP60K5ERkELPvkpBC1QX2PTgwTm4kdaisM2jijxm4WAmxoMvrJqebqKf8xAu9WN20RqDjMittsUDPpzl7EBk7BmRNhq0LRSqK5WWRF_TY/s1600/IMG_4758+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjYfpZ6fj1KLKt4V2wyAs_ITPH_Dj_Vz3lZjVqP60K5ERkELPvkpBC1QX2PTgwTm4kdaisM2jijxm4WAmxoMvrJqebqKf8xAu9WN20RqDjMittsUDPpzl7EBk7BmRNhq0LRSqK5WWRF_TY/s320/IMG_4758+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555610135285403954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSWa21GiDDfUoUhttrWfI_7uCDK34sXway3AuHict9az4MdZdveytWLHx5yQDGpM4T5rLFcMdI-HcbYIsb25v0s9B7-Cjchn-pvHRwtgZ_Qzqd6ZB_I7bwCrIFhfoSuXjbwJumNUrj6TQ/s1600/IMG_4759+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhSWa21GiDDfUoUhttrWfI_7uCDK34sXway3AuHict9az4MdZdveytWLHx5yQDGpM4T5rLFcMdI-HcbYIsb25v0s9B7-Cjchn-pvHRwtgZ_Qzqd6ZB_I7bwCrIFhfoSuXjbwJumNUrj6TQ/s320/IMG_4759+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555610132037374610" border="0" /></a><br />He even ate the cookies by some miracle (he has a really amazing helper).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTf-22chpiI5exu0XS1VpOcEfz3ZX_ay8a4SKeYqJHRNVvpQ81DYJ4FVAb16o4RMC7QA5noMkyJiDapRN2ly3fu_mlJ6i99QBcXaN5M3rk1B3_SF5UPReNnKIx_J9cXJNaU5IySNACKw/s1600/IMG_4760+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjjTf-22chpiI5exu0XS1VpOcEfz3ZX_ay8a4SKeYqJHRNVvpQ81DYJ4FVAb16o4RMC7QA5noMkyJiDapRN2ly3fu_mlJ6i99QBcXaN5M3rk1B3_SF5UPReNnKIx_J9cXJNaU5IySNACKw/s320/IMG_4760+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555610131149053346" border="0" /></a>Note the adorable festive Disney jammies that KJ's girlfriend Jessica scored the little darlings. Love that girl, what perfect taste for perfect children. Heh.<br /><br />Also... Carly and Dave are visiting from Seattle!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBSMBk7MxG4nrJex6FVAPVMx9qvbt4qiKhSyV4YZnWSVo2lGnNdx9HC4YUlH6TTZZ6kI3Y1PbFoCDE_6nuNoyfs_nT8hwvtsOxVWCCOLq6YwfCc7WqgJ-jg6ouFohAO82PfC1wOnkpMw/s1600/IMG_4777+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgtBSMBk7MxG4nrJex6FVAPVMx9qvbt4qiKhSyV4YZnWSVo2lGnNdx9HC4YUlH6TTZZ6kI3Y1PbFoCDE_6nuNoyfs_nT8hwvtsOxVWCCOLq6YwfCc7WqgJ-jg6ouFohAO82PfC1wOnkpMw/s320/IMG_4777+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555610126224426706" border="0" /></a><br />We are taking in the moments we have them and planning away... more on that later.<br /><br />This year Christmas is a little strange. Tyson has a new job and a new schedule, there was a LOT of family in town which is GREAT! We LOVE(d) having so many dear faces around... but there are never enough hours of daylight. And did I mention how <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">I got sick on Christmas Eve?</span> Talk about a party foul. The last few days have been a blur and I feel like Im not taking in the moments as fast as they are flying by.<br /><br />Don't think I'm crazy... but I went for a run today, and I saw this one tree that had knobby little fur buds on the end of its stark naked branches. It gave me this strange bubble of hope... the New Year is coming, and Spring is inevitable, right? RIGHT?!?!? Im tired of being cold, and wet, and feeling sluggish and chunky. Bring on the blossoms and the chirping birds!<br /><br />Anyways- Stay TUNED! I have big news to report on (I already said Im NOT pregnant)... Kyle is home! Carly is getting hitched! Spring is only a moment away (just humor me)! There is a LOT to look forward to in 2011... we are EXCITED for the new year, and feeling beyond blessed once again.<br /><br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-90590879803425929052010-12-19T06:49:00.001-08:002010-12-19T07:35:45.373-08:00My True LoveAnabelle has a nasty cough, and since its been cold and wet I didn't want to drag her out yesterday evening to run a shopping errand.<br /><br />I dropped her off at my parent's house and Dawson and I headed out for a rare moment to ourselves to do our Christmas bidding's.<br /><br />He was singing his heart out in the backseat his very best attempt at the 12 days of Christmas... and suddenly stops mid-tune and asks...<br /><br />"Hey, Mom...? What's a 'true love?' "<br /><br />I explained that a 'true love' is the one that was meant for you to be with forever, and the one you will love for your whole life no matter what happens along the way.<br /><br />I finished my explanation with "...its usually the person you marry or want to marry..."<br /><br />and he was quiet and thought filled for a moment and then he said...<br /><br />"...you know... the song <span style="font-style: italic;">could</span> be talking about a Mom and her kid... thats also kind of like a true love..."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKoBAVl-dEjJzQSHXpwGAU_MIcF4VuZ8ALtFLsUfrAKPm9fXAcKdXdeZdSXcqQuBQwSmQEH3zuqBnVamvJW4mhSv6Y_wVR6wa0Kj4SiLCAvddnfX-VEOkH9RnTpG9d9SXBs4ubh4BXTWM/s1600/IMG_4698+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEiKoBAVl-dEjJzQSHXpwGAU_MIcF4VuZ8ALtFLsUfrAKPm9fXAcKdXdeZdSXcqQuBQwSmQEH3zuqBnVamvJW4mhSv6Y_wVR6wa0Kj4SiLCAvddnfX-VEOkH9RnTpG9d9SXBs4ubh4BXTWM/s320/IMG_4698+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552415051823196674" border="0" /></a><br />And then I melted into a puddle faster than Frosty the Snowman on a Miami Beach.<br /><br />I am seriously in tears just writing about it.<br /><br />I have the worlds sweetest little boy.<br /><br />And yes, he is absolutely right... this is true love.Beth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6020908570506765928.post-90531060755002797342010-12-15T13:20:00.000-08:002010-12-15T13:22:24.102-08:00Why I Love the Trots<span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I should probablly begin by saying sorry this is sooooo last holiday season. I've been hoarding it half done for awhile now... and just got around to posting. We're busy in these parts this time of year! Hopefully I'll catch up soon...</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />I LOVE Thanksgiving!!</span><br /><br />I love the food.<br /><br />I love the smells.<br /><br />I love the colors.<br /><br />I love the spirit of family, friends, and general thankfulness that seems to float everywhere around me.<br /><br />I love the casual prelude to the arriving holiday season.<br /><br />But MOST of all... (alright not MOST of all... but its up there...)<br /><br />I LOVE all the turkey puns... they are FAT, they are UGLY, they are creepy and awkward and stupid and beady little beasts with shriveled gonads hanging off their nasty little faces and everything about them just that just BEGS to be mocked!<br /><br />So what do you get when you add such a lovely holiday to my second favorite past time (which is running... that would be second to eating, naturally)...?<br /><br />******************NIRVANA********************<br /><br />...And a perfect opportunity for yet another favorite thing of mine... slightly slanted humor and potty themed puns!<br /><br />With that... I give to you ladies and gentlemen...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">(My) Second Annual Templeton Turkey Trot!</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaVRxtWY10x7cRVT_9FiLKKoQIq8pkVZsmI5SZUraqI9zZK7FCaQMkd5trKOYiinCHCF8pieHSvSor7BtyeXALh6NRplPuEsfXz06D27nWLzRsYCSx29vPFicvxLOT9EEx96fDw9Xsw4/s1600/IMG_4588+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhxaVRxtWY10x7cRVT_9FiLKKoQIq8pkVZsmI5SZUraqI9zZK7FCaQMkd5trKOYiinCHCF8pieHSvSor7BtyeXALh6NRplPuEsfXz06D27nWLzRsYCSx29vPFicvxLOT9EEx96fDw9Xsw4/s320/IMG_4588+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545205996744094594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">(Group shot of everyone who did the runs. Giggle.)</span><br /><br /></div>This was quite an occasion for several reasons.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">First of all</span>... exactly ONE year ago... I had the pleasure of rekindling an old spark with my friend (and former team mate...!) Bethany!!!!<br /><br />So... it was our "friendaversary!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ439PgVO_dw9X6wSEwJEJ8geMlfdVYLRNs1cAV7jNDQiNrubWRqeuKP86g24jRRRnFXuMLfk3FuzgZ1AG8tfIxESGApJScpBN8mmnIlKEayp8-DoDyb9oFTgzQL6OpiyTicmiljghp6c/s1600/IMG_4577+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEgQ439PgVO_dw9X6wSEwJEJ8geMlfdVYLRNs1cAV7jNDQiNrubWRqeuKP86g24jRRRnFXuMLfk3FuzgZ1AG8tfIxESGApJScpBN8mmnIlKEayp8-DoDyb9oFTgzQL6OpiyTicmiljghp6c/s320/IMG_4577+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550981870019910242" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Bethany is SUCH a blessing to have in my life. I love when the circle of friends expands and she has gracefully become such a natural part of my life that I can't imagine how I ever lived without. I AM THANKFUL FOR BETHANY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />AND.<br /><br />I am also thankful for KARI... you all KNOW how I rave on and on about our Hammies... they are our sister tribe... I didn't set out to make this blog about all the wonderful things my friends add to my life because honestly, I don't think theres enough space on the Internet to say all there is to say... but on a superficial note... know this. The circle has gotten smaller... Kari and Bethany go to the same church, and Kari has arranged and juggled her hectic post-third-baby life around in such a way that she has now re-joined our running fad, and with that said...<br /><br />...feel the point building (T.W.S.S!!!!!)...<br /><br />...with our peer pressuring powers combined...<br /><br />We <span style="font-style: italic;">(finally!)</span> got Bethany to RUN a RACE... <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">IN A PINK TUTU!</span><br /><br />(If you know Bethany... you are now stupefied~ 'nuff said).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The SECOND</span> reason this was a momentous occasion was... not only are we running pals... we are all official proud owners of ghetto fabulous (that's code for 'last season's model') Go Go Gadget Garmen running watches!:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJIKsRKLKmEcCHuwu8vDxXjfzOgs9zqatsPLeQpiNXaKSEZUgJeRBtQKf54sGETOkjgBtgchqzw53754sg3_xFKsIRpXmNbzC2-4asKxk_FmI8uqK6g9gFOlsyoVaILVH-JpgaTvoSD1A/s1600/IMG_4578+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEjJIKsRKLKmEcCHuwu8vDxXjfzOgs9zqatsPLeQpiNXaKSEZUgJeRBtQKf54sGETOkjgBtgchqzw53754sg3_xFKsIRpXmNbzC2-4asKxk_FmI8uqK6g9gFOlsyoVaILVH-JpgaTvoSD1A/s320/IMG_4578+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550978543460719570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Kari was the latest to join the legacy... hers came on Trotter's eve, courtesy of her adoring, assertive, doting, and wickedly SMART husband, who wisely didn't force her to wait it out til Christmas. ;) Awwww!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The THIRD </span>reason is... well, err... this is awkward.... I know its a little braggie... sorry bout that... I'll say it fast so we can move on...<span style="font-style: italic;"> I ran at my fastest pace ever, and set a new personal best. Average pace was an 8:24 mile... for 6 miles! </span><br /><br />I'm not generally into my times like that, but there is some substantial progress there, and I feel good about it. Weee!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The FOURTH</span> reason is.... I got to make 'trotting' jokes to my hearts content allllllllll over facebook, and to my girlfriends, and to anyone else who (foolishly) cared to mention the upcoming event beforehand... AND... I got to gobble obnoxiously all morning long which leads me to...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The FIFTH</span> and really <span style="font-style: italic;">most substantial</span> reason I LOVE the Templeton trots (heheheheh!!! Yep. Still funny. )...<br /><br />I had a wee little co-gobblet in tow this year. There is a 1mile kids trot. And... my sweet little turkey boy happened to be old enough and have an interest in participating.<br /><br />He did amazing.<br /><br />And in the perfect picture of an epic finishing moment... just as I rounded the bend for the home stretch to the finish line in the 10k course, <span style="font-style: italic;">oh what to my wondering eyes should appear?!</span> BUT these cute little turkeys gobbling toward me for their very own finish in the end of the 1mile loop... and we met up, fought the good fight, finished the race, and crossed the chalk line together hand in hand.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYPBBtnn3e0wcSPnqBcZZLifieS-WwHnWEDOnugfd9qLeUv-HiVLxxbAY7gDbIobgCzsHFincJL4n_leMLRdJeN6u2MfYVlrszNXlBSaEOvVMeEQPOTpJQoQdCYdQzm-6uF1WhOIShG0/s1600/IMG_4586+%2528Medium%2529+%25282%2529.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/AVvXsEgXYPBBtnn3e0wcSPnqBcZZLifieS-WwHnWEDOnugfd9qLeUv-HiVLxxbAY7gDbIobgCzsHFincJL4n_leMLRdJeN6u2MfYVlrszNXlBSaEOvVMeEQPOTpJQoQdCYdQzm-6uF1WhOIShG0/s320/IMG_4586+%2528Medium%2529+%25282%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545206001032522802" border="0" /></a>Yep. It was a moment. I love that kid, and I am SO proud.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3SfoM00TipChnfgvCgpRiRgqvJGbTn6EPesivELdmE1fnsU4pzb6EKEYZJNi9e8y4WX0wzH1DRMQ-VKJ0Ssblz9vqAABL8G4SqMH07RL0El87ONE1FcyhhUW8lrRMuw7dSH222uezI88/s1600/IMG_4591+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEj3SfoM00TipChnfgvCgpRiRgqvJGbTn6EPesivELdmE1fnsU4pzb6EKEYZJNi9e8y4WX0wzH1DRMQ-VKJ0Ssblz9vqAABL8G4SqMH07RL0El87ONE1FcyhhUW8lrRMuw7dSH222uezI88/s320/IMG_4591+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545205979358694658" border="0" /></a><br />And of course, I'm proud of our Kailee Bear too...who was also participating in her first race, and actually did quite well for herself with her graceful long leg advantage. Don't let the Star Wars helmet at the after party fool ya... these are some cool kids.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0gR8PaD33uQ-w1YVPVxmPIQ_BuVL5roy_l2oVj5QEysbgaRXABq94ilQUNq69Q81Mqa65QGe2hI_8IlTtwqwP0m5NOIOG2RXuJRoRMnxHMn1ZQ1zNp5FPyRmp4DVswR9vK4Fu5uOg8s/s1600/IMG_4589+%2528Medium%2529.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/AVvXsEhy0gR8PaD33uQ-w1YVPVxmPIQ_BuVL5roy_l2oVj5QEysbgaRXABq94ilQUNq69Q81Mqa65QGe2hI_8IlTtwqwP0m5NOIOG2RXuJRoRMnxHMn1ZQ1zNp5FPyRmp4DVswR9vK4Fu5uOg8s/s320/IMG_4589+%2528Medium%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545205993277493442" border="0" /></a><br />And last but certainly not least... my sweet husband was there to cheer us all on... take pictures... be our (my) tech support... and just generally rule the world. ONE DAY I will drag him across that finish line with me... but until then, its nice that he holds down the fort, exercises the camera, and makes me signs.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTnG8p84BXThaXTlL8B_5XJN_aebFIcGi2vLQ9WdYzpYouZxU_keBEZVZyeTSlsu4y-bYfxuPDgdH6jjiKSsRuDolYNdo6YK1ZaNJRklEF1JWZSYT9sA97r4r95BoIK6fMgsnYRMpa04/s1600/IMG_4593.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/AVvXsEiyTnG8p84BXThaXTlL8B_5XJN_aebFIcGi2vLQ9WdYzpYouZxU_keBEZVZyeTSlsu4y-bYfxuPDgdH6jjiKSsRuDolYNdo6YK1ZaNJRklEF1JWZSYT9sA97r4r95BoIK6fMgsnYRMpa04/s320/IMG_4593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545205990542885618" border="0" /></a><br />I may be way late in posting this... but I am one thankful little turkey in a tutu. And that's true all year!<br />xoBeth McDermotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12602847978084089406noreply@blogger.com1