tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-297797872024-03-07T01:54:43.055-08:00still figgurin' IT outCrazed housewife ventures into the unknown cyberworld in hopes of making sense out of this thing we call earthly life. Illustrated on occasion.still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-3855304279070311832012-04-23T09:07:00.001-07:002012-04-23T09:07:49.060-07:00Proud Momma!<span xmlns=''><p>I am now the mother of an official High School Dropout. I could not be prouder.<br /></p><p>Could someone please pass the Xanax?</p></span>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-12737315086705640872012-04-21T10:58:00.001-07:002012-04-21T10:58:53.853-07:00Window Shopping<span xmlns=''><p>I have this incredible ability to shop without spending any money. I am the type of shopper that has to get the best bargain possible. My husband hates me. I can spend an hour at the store just selecting one item, and I usually spend hours before that researching what I will be buying. Luckily, I have gotten lazy – I no longer go to the store if I can help it. Instead, I shop ONLINE. I highly recommend this to anyone who has a spending habit.<br /></p><p>Here's how I do it:<br /></p><ol><li> I get the urge to buy something.<br /></li><li>I immediately give in to that urge and boot up the computer.<br /></li><li>I start researching.<br /></li><li>Hours/days later, I am still researching.<br /></li><li>When I finally find the most bargain-centered online store/catalog, I start putting stuff into my basket.<br /></li><li>I log off, and then second guess that I'm really, truly getting the best bargain.<br /></li><li>I get back online and research some more.<br /></li><li>By this time, I am sick to death of the product, the computer, and of shopping.<br /></li><li>I log off again, and pick up a good book.<br /></li><li>I never buy what I intended to buy.<br /></li></ol><p>Sure, I waste a lot of time, but think of all the money that I'm saving!<br /></p><p>Here's my latest example. I want to move. I really, really, really, REALLY want to move. I hate living here. I hate knowing that my oldest has picked out the dregs of humanity to hang with, and that there is no end to the bottomless gutter from which she selects these people in the Wild and Wonderful state of West Virginia. Sure, there are some fabulous people here, but does she want anything to do with any of them? Did I mention that I want to move?<br /></p><p>So, I've been house hunting online. For the past month. I am pretty sure that I will vomit if I have to see the phrase "realtor.com" one more time. So, I have just saved us thousands of dollars by not putting money down on those fantastic bargain homes in San Tan Valley, Arizona.<br /></p><p>Instead, I've decided to auction off my daughter to the highest bidder- online of course! Let the bidding/shopping begin!<br /></p></span>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-48490312562564146312011-12-31T12:34:00.000-08:002011-12-31T12:34:15.273-08:00Happy Holidays 2011!<br />
<br />
<br />
Dear Family and Friends,<br />
<br />
Because I am a low-energy, procrastinating mother of 6, this online Christmas/New Year letter is the best I can do (plus it saves on stamps, thus fulfilling my penny pincher side)! <br />
<br />
This was the year of big decisions for our family. Madeleine, our oldest, turned 17 in February. She decided to spend her sophomore year living in Morrison, TN with my parents, who bought a farm there (literally, not figuratively). After the school year ended, she moved back home with us. As getting to school has been such a struggle for her, due to medical issues, she is currently on homebound. She has decided that Job Corps is the best pathway for jumpstarting her future, and has applied to the EMT program in Cleveland, OH, where she will earn her high school diploma and become a certified EMT. She is dating a wonderful young man, who has decided to spend 2 years serving as a missionary. <br />
<br />
Steven turned 16 in May, and is working on his sophomore year of high school. He has also decided that academics are not his thing, but would instead like to enroll in the military and fly airplanes *gasp*! We are lucky that there is a program through the high school where he can test out of academic subjects and instead earn certifications at the technical school in the next town. Steven has also decided to enter the world of dating, albeit car-less, and is dating a very nice and drama-free girl from our town.<br />
<br />
Allison turned 14 in May (sending her parents in denial about their age). She has decided, with her parents input, that the school system has little to offer her, and has been “home-schooled” for the past 2 years. This consists of her eating whenever she wants, flipping through some highly academic books, such as the dictionary and her mother’s old Organic Chemistry and Biology textbooks, and drawing letters on her magnetic doodle board. She is still a BIG FAN of music and always wants her “Song!” playing. She has maintained her current health and seems as happy as any other teen-age girl!<br />
<br />
Eric turned a big one-o in September. He has decided that there are so many activities he would like to do, such as football, basketball, soccer, gymnastics, and hip-hop, that he can’t make up his mind! He took gymnastics for a few months last year, with his younger brother, and was invited to be on the team, but that idea was too much for him, and he decided to stop going at all (much to his mother’s chagrin). He currently is working hard in his fourth grade class. He likes to play outside, no matter what the weather, and is our biggest fan of movies.<br />
<br />
Calvin turned 8 one week ago, and for his birthday, he decided to get baptized! We are very proud of him. Calvin is our smartest child- just ask him! He loves math, puzzles and computer games. He also was quite good at gymnastics, and was on the boy’s team for a few weeks before the pressure became too much for him. He decided that was the end of his gymnastics career, leaving his mother in *sniff* tears. When asked what he wants to be when he grows up, he says, “You know that person at Wal-mart that says hello to everyone. . . .” We couldn’t be prouder of his decision ;)<br />
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Ivan turned 3 today!! Happy Birthday to him! Ivan made the big decision to potty-train HIMSELF this summer. Awesome decision, little guy. He is a fan of his big brother, Steven, and of movies, cereal and milk, and of Toy Story. We ALL are a big fan of Ivan! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvg87a0kZbRMLO5s2VPGNp6gQVfH8up_EH0gHTBKkBAGkr0kWIAq4B9gCAh3-1Bbcgz9AwWw7_zv5TmmwQZe3qeLTTjr4KqU_r5LGJUrJPfeMQurxKJpkGFnmoblaKcRFERySVQ/s1600/IMG_1762%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCvg87a0kZbRMLO5s2VPGNp6gQVfH8up_EH0gHTBKkBAGkr0kWIAq4B9gCAh3-1Bbcgz9AwWw7_zv5TmmwQZe3qeLTTjr4KqU_r5LGJUrJPfeMQurxKJpkGFnmoblaKcRFERySVQ/s320/IMG_1762%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Keith has decided to stick with his current job for at least another year. On that note, we are very grateful that he HAS a good job to stick with, in light of the current economic struggles of so many! Keith keeps very busy with his calling in church. He has also decided he likes to build and create, and spends many hours in the garage with his various projects. He still is a big fan of mountain climbing, and in his dreams we are living within driving distance of Mount Blanca in southern Colorado. . . . Maybe a decision for next year? <br />
<br />
Candi, aka Mom, has deciding to continue to be a mom. After being accepted to the medical school at Marshall University last year, and then deferring the decision for another year, she has decided that her current energy level will only allow her to pursue one major. Medical school would have been the easy choice, in her opinion, but not at the expense of the family. She also decided against a future as a genetic counselor, due to some conflicting moral beliefs. Now, the big decision remains: another baby or are we done? Maybe adoption? (Keep your ears open for us)<br />
<br />
The best decision we have made as a family is to continue to have faith in our Savior, whose influence guides us daily as we strive to improve and serve others. Please let us know if we can bless YOUR lives and families in any way. Much love,<br />
<br />
The Schempp Familystill figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-3094753107810137252011-05-12T09:03:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:33:03.097-07:00<strong><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: large;">Emotions are running high</span> . . . .</span></strong><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">First things first. I promised some priceless gems of household hints, so here is another one. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> <strong>MOPPING THE FLOOR- CANDI STYLE</strong></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">This one is my favorite, but since I only mop about 1x or 2x a month (aside from the daily wipe-ups of boy messes) I don't have any cool pics of this.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">OK. Take your favorite cleaner. Mine is Fabuloso because it is purple and it smells nice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Put a couple of tablespoons into a large, empty spray bottle. Fill up the rest of the spray bottle with water. Spray the mixture onto the floor (don't try this on wooden floors, please) until the floor looks completely misted. This is the hardest part for me- I have arthritis in my fingers, so I have to switch the bottle from hand to hand to prevent hand cramping. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Grab an old rag or towel, mid to large-sized, and spread it over any part of the floor you choose, preferably a corner. Put both feet on the towel, about 8-10 inches apart, and start skating!!* Skate over the whole floor, without lifting your feet from the towel. By the time you are done, your towel will be filthy and wet, but your floor will be clean and almost dry. Toss the towel in the laundry b/c you are done!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Not only is your floor clean, but your legs have gotten a great work out!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">*I stole this idea from Pippi Longstocking- the coolest girl in books!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Now for some updates on my crazy life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Madeleine- Coming home in 2 1/2 weeks, to stay. It didn't work out so well for my parents or her to have her living there this past school year. It worked out great for me, for a while. Before all the guilt started to settle in my soul. A bit more each day. Until I was stumbling along in a guilt-induced stupor. That I failed my daughter. That I failed my parents by not doing my job at raising her well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">(Let's just keep going with the guilt, shall we? I'm quite the expert)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">MORE THINGS THAT I FEEL <strong>GUILTY</strong> ABOUT . . . . </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I can't just be content to be a stay-at-home mom for the the rest of my days on earth.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I felt so devastated when first Eric quit gymnastics, and then Calvin had to quit b/c he was having anxiety attacks at practice (which I'm certain were my fault b/c I kept pushing him to do his sit-ups and push-ups and handstands each day, before TV time).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That not a single one of my children like to read.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That Steven is not interested in getting good grades (oh where did I go wrong?)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I feel so much anger at my non-supportive family members who don't want me to go to med school.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I want to go to medical school.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I DON'T want to go to medical school (I'd rather curl up in a ball on my yellow chair, and read until sunrise, and then sleep all day long).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I'm so angry with some of my best friends for deserting me, even though one of them had the worst thing in the world happen to her and I couldn't even think how to help her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I hate to cook.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That I love to eat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">That . . . I could go on and on and on.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"><strong>BUT!!!!</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">When I push the guilt away, I start to look at <strong>ALL</strong> my blessings:</span><br />
<br />
<ul><li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am a mother!!! I got to experience childbirth 6 times!!!! I get to be the one that they all come to with their problems, and good news. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am a wife!! My husband loves me and needs me. He has a steady, stable job, which I am SOOOO grateful for! Plus, he has the best massage hands in the world. Not kidding.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am a sister. I love having siblings. Yes, I get offended by them regularly, but I do my share of offending as well. I love that forgiveness has never let me down, in either direction.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I have been blessed with more opportunities than almost anyone that I know. How many people get to choose between having another baby, going to medical school, or just keeping the status quo? Not many.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I am still able to pull myself out of my depressions without chemicals. (not sure how long this will last, but I ain't throwin' in the proverbial towel, just yet)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> I still have a little baby running around and giving me hugs and saying adorable things! </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">(Technically, he will always be my baby, even when he's a teenager. He better be still giving me hugs.)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">I will always be a wife and mother. Eternally. Forever. Best thing EVER.</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">So, I recently was looking at genetic counseling again, b/c I was hating West Virginia (again) and wanting to move. But I spoke with a gc yesterday and she suggested that I would be happier in the long run by becoming a physician. If I go to medical school, that means I am done having babies. I know I can always have more in the next life (and forever!) but my body and my heart are very sad with the idea that I am done. My mind, not so much! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Enough rambling. We went to Edisto Beach a couple of weeks ago, and here are some pics:</span><br />
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtwQk8Ka3kxUVE_KVEshu0YK6HKBWLs5NsxVSYiss13OZvpyHZVxiL5r0ZnYCLZPwaqKLeKARzZ6CgvpFjwOKDnLsLPDVAIvP2Z8v9I0_RJADo8anwGULvi-5ZEGbc_HCIinoVQ/s1600/DSCN5484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtwQk8Ka3kxUVE_KVEshu0YK6HKBWLs5NsxVSYiss13OZvpyHZVxiL5r0ZnYCLZPwaqKLeKARzZ6CgvpFjwOKDnLsLPDVAIvP2Z8v9I0_RJADo8anwGULvi-5ZEGbc_HCIinoVQ/s320/DSCN5484.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-19210386399430904552011-03-14T07:54:00.000-07:002011-03-16T09:28:05.501-07:00<div align="center"><strong>WEEKLY HOUSEHOLD TIPS</strong></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, I'm going to start blogging again, if anything just to give my mind something to do. I am currently NOT in school, and won't be in school for quite a while. Short version:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I got accepted into Marshall medical school, but I will be deferring matriculation until August 2011. Soooo, I have a lot of time on my hands, and not a lot of motivation to do ANYTHING.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I am going for the record for how many books I can read in one year. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Unfortunately for my intellect, I can't seem to choose anything to read, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">other than MIND-NUMBING novels.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I trick myself into thinking that it will be OK. After all,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">someday I will be writing one of the aforementioned.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And it will happen. It will. It's on my bucket list.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Enough said about that.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So it came to me that I should get out of my rut, and practice my </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">AMAZING writing skills by contibuting to the betterment of society.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I will do this by providing weekly household tips for any other</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">stir-crazy housewife, or househusband who might be bored enough to bloglurk.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">These tips are life-saving. Maybe not life-saving, but DEFINITELY money and time saving.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Don't know why I want to save time, since I have more than I could EVER want.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Enought to use capitals. Never had the time for them before. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I might even learn how to change fonts.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">But, I digress.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><strong>HOUSEHOLD TIP FOR THE WEEK:</strong></span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">This is a beauty tip for anyone over the age of 35 that is suffering from,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">ahem *whisper* wrinkles.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I'm not talking about those character affirming fine lines, either.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">You know, the ones that are oh so sexy on men with weathered skin. . . .</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Oh, sorry. I was thinking about Paul Hogan for a minute.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Did I just write that out loud? Way to show my age.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">OK, OK, I will get on it! Hold your horses!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Here it is.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Go to Walmart. Splurge on a roll of Scotch invisible tape. Do NOT show this to</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">your children or you will have wasted your husbands hard earned money, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">and then he won't even get to reap the benefits of your newly botoxed face.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I'm not sure I shouldn't just patent this idea, instead of freely posting it.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">It's that good.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">OK, but, remember, medical school is expensive. Of course! I will POSITIVELY</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">accept donations! Ever so kind of you to ask!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Take a small length of tape, about 1/2 to 1 inch will do for each wrinkle. Cut it </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">in half again, lengthwise, and round the corners, with scissors.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Not with the tape cutter on the dispenser. Do you not realize how irritating</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">those little serrated edges can be?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">So, place your wrinkle fighting weapon over each one of your DEEP </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">wrinkle lines, and VOILA! Instant botox.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I calculate that you will pay about 2 cents per wrinkle/per week.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Now, their are a couple of important points to remember.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">1. Do NOT leave the house with your Scotch showing.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">2. Best to apply at night, right before bed.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">3. Do NOT forget to remove before showering. The tape will come off and add to your</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">already clogging drain. And then you will have to spend your free time</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">with a bottle of Drano, instead of looking in the mirror at your new,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">wrinkle-free miracle of a face.</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">4. Do this as many nights out of the week as your skin can stand. Remove in the morning.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Especially useful on Saturday nights, so you can come to church looking</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">like a new woman (or man).</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">5. Most importantly, please do not sue me if you get a horrible Scotch tape reaction.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Trust me. You will not get a penny. Instead, sue the Scotch tape company.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Whatever that's called. They have money. I know because I'm buying</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">up Scotch tape like crazy. (I have a lot of wrinkles)</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Stay tuned for next week's tip.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">If I get adventurous, I may start doing weekly restaurant reviews.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Of course, they will only be relevant to local readers. Of which I have none.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">But, it will make me feel SOO much better to dis on the</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Italian restaurant that brought my husband STILL FROZEN lasagna, TWICE! </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">IN THE SAME EVENING!!!!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">But, we're not bitter or anything.</span></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-63844871907556506642011-03-14T07:53:00.000-07:002011-03-14T07:56:45.673-07:00Testing, 1,2,3, Testing.still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-66321244987898488342010-09-05T20:06:00.000-07:002010-09-05T20:06:13.802-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">An Ode to Calvin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7xmPq8u1IVVkOZmmG63uz6MSAkzel_B-1yVmt9juXoIiHsF4Is5x2eYDJ1ArHfG9FzBYXei_48lMIljh7m6MOIPfhvtCsb0U9LmLZk0FWEhsSBiM5hrkKlN01uUMI40rnfEGtA/s1600/Cal+and+iv.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7xmPq8u1IVVkOZmmG63uz6MSAkzel_B-1yVmt9juXoIiHsF4Is5x2eYDJ1ArHfG9FzBYXei_48lMIljh7m6MOIPfhvtCsb0U9LmLZk0FWEhsSBiM5hrkKlN01uUMI40rnfEGtA/s320/Cal+and+iv.bmp" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have a wonderful little boy named Calvin. He says the most interesting things. This summer, after I told him he could earn money to buy his own silly bands by doing chores, he says, "I am not the kid who likes to do chores", like, duh Mom! Last week, when I asked him if he had done his homework yet, he says. . . (you guessed it) "I am not the kid who likes to do homework". But he is the kid who likes to give hugs, smiles, and lovins, so I'm a very lucky mom!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We have a special man in our ward who has developed some health problems over the past couple of years. He is no longer able to walk without his walker. A few months ago, he came up to me and asked me what my son's name was, as he points out Calvin. With tears in his eyes he thanks me for raising such a wonderful son. He then tells me what had just transpired in the mens room: </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> This gentleman had just finished using the facilities, and came out to wash his hands. Calvin was just finishing up washing his hands and goes to the door, and opens it. He stays there with the door open for a couple of minutes and holds it open for the man when he was ready to leave. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">For some reason, he was so impressed that Calvin recognized another person's need and answered that need, at such a young age (Calvin is 6). This wonderful man even shared this same story with the congregation, a couple of weeks later. Keith and I were not surprised b/c we always knew we had a special boy, but it was sure nice to hear that he shows his good side to the rest of the world, too! I made sure that I let this gentleman know that it had nothing to do with how Calvin was parented, but that he was just born with an extra loving heart.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Keith overheard him talking on Friday to his brother Eric, who is eight, about attending a girl's birthday party. The conversation went like this:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Eric: She might give out goody bags with girly stuff in them.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Calvin: If she does that, I will very nicely and politely tell her that I don't really want any. You have to be nice and polite to girls because if you don't, they get REALLY mad and yell.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, our little 6 year old has already figured out the mysteries of the other sex. Apparently, some kids were throwing rocks at recess, and Calvin told a girl that it was dangerous, and she had let him HAVE IT! He's a quick learner.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-2WuZ1WxKfe26m_yoJLqioxgK7yTKZJ850_XyUFXl0wBn-td6bt9U1XRJ7LAaeysjlYfp3Te1DgDMnbTbqudV6wOrFFAT5vNBtxd1qol82SiMHaY01JDwTn1lIe6EvNsTLordA/s1600/cool+calvin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-2WuZ1WxKfe26m_yoJLqioxgK7yTKZJ850_XyUFXl0wBn-td6bt9U1XRJ7LAaeysjlYfp3Te1DgDMnbTbqudV6wOrFFAT5vNBtxd1qol82SiMHaY01JDwTn1lIe6EvNsTLordA/s320/cool+calvin.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My other children are wonderful, too, in their own way. But, Calvin is just been a special bright spot in our family and we are so grateful that we have him!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-11605746928808511882010-05-29T17:21:00.000-07:002010-05-29T17:22:52.720-07:00<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <strong><span style="font-size: large;">What is the point of it all?</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So this is the question I asked my now 15 year old son, Steven, as I am in the middle of a major funk. His reply? Well, there's always chocolate.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Chocolate is fabulous. I have to melt on my tongue at least one Dove Dark Chocolate square a day in order to feel sane for 5 minutes. It's the rest of the 23 hours and 55 minutes that I have yet to come to terms with!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Keith and I had some great plans laid out for the next 2-3 years (or at least <em>I</em> did, and he lovingly accepted them). I was going to go to genetic counseling school, work for 1 year full-time, take the boards, and take a nice, kushy (sp?), part-time job doing work that I would love, and spend the rest of the time doting on my wonderful children, as they matured into hardworking, responsible, chore-doing, caring members of society.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, that didn't happen. I did not get accepted to any of the 7 schools I applied (got 4 interviews, did 3 of them, 2 denied me, 1 closed down their program). Next, we decided to move to Utah. We found the perfect house in the neighborhood where Keith's parents live. We were going to buy it, have good friends of ours live there until they could get back on their feet, and move in after a year or two of paying off our currents debts. Well, this didn't happen either, b/c apparently when buying a second home you need 20% down, and at least 5 of that has to have been sitting in your own bank account for at least 3 months. We don't have 10 grand laying around right now (how shocking, I know). And now our dear friends are not able to move to Utah right now, either.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">So, I'm currently still kicking around the med school idea, but I just don't feel that drive that I used to have. I think that what the Lord is trying to tell me right now is that I need to stay home and be the mother that I haven't been while I've been in school. The past 6 months, the ugly bipolar has reared it's head in a vicious way. My oldest has become unrecognizable: skipping school for weeks in a row, blatantly defying us when we ask for help around the house, and spending hours in bed texting and listening to her ipod (which she<em> did </em>buy with her own money, after all). Eric, who is 8, is being home schooled, but the minute the other kids get home, until he goes to a medicated sleep at 8pm, tortures them mercilessly with his picking, taunting, teasing, and throwing things. When he is reprimanded for those behaviors, he turns on me and whines, screams, and yells for the next couple of hours.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>What we need is the Nanny! Unfortunately WV does not even have licensed family therapists. The next best option is counseling, which we are starting in 2 weeks. It can't come soon enough! Meanwhile, I am trying to hold it all together and not feel like I'm the lead contestant for the Bad Mother of the Year Award.<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The good news: Steven is doing well, Calvin successfully completed (almost) his first year of school, and baby Ivan is eating solids (mostly). Allison's seizures have declined in number, but increased in intensity. As a 13 year old, she is now wearing (oh the horror) a brassiere!</div><br />
You know that show, Mommy swap? I want on that. Not really, but if I have any volunteers to take on a piece of my load . . .<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH52dN4Blu7vkVCl59qtxNO_sDPutm8c6FokmuK2qGh0_N7L7VKVitxGcW3JDjJL02knNOzDZzr_0Nhdc-gucSxt5AH1WH7aCmyFDY2it59on6Cg6iX4Gnve1tDc3bS8PvWS8Bg/s1600/0509102141-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH52dN4Blu7vkVCl59qtxNO_sDPutm8c6FokmuK2qGh0_N7L7VKVitxGcW3JDjJL02knNOzDZzr_0Nhdc-gucSxt5AH1WH7aCmyFDY2it59on6Cg6iX4Gnve1tDc3bS8PvWS8Bg/s320/0509102141-00.jpg" /></a>A few recent pics (from my new phone- baby broke my old one, and Maddy and Eric broke the camera, while fighting over it).</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJYK8r8cB4sdeo7xOmcp4zF3UhJXoPDepFXByq1P_yTWXapL6UB0Yd6FdjaYWwmYAwqVxLwmxaD9FsuwZ3nRL8ocABR0-lJDsvCOQnbjvBD5X5lK_eaIw1wc8pXvst89X7TXf9A/s1600/0515101410-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEJYK8r8cB4sdeo7xOmcp4zF3UhJXoPDepFXByq1P_yTWXapL6UB0Yd6FdjaYWwmYAwqVxLwmxaD9FsuwZ3nRL8ocABR0-lJDsvCOQnbjvBD5X5lK_eaIw1wc8pXvst89X7TXf9A/s320/0515101410-01.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvwplEA-8Ec7ymC7gBlR1o_jzUuXtzayybw3UF8erHo4Ewhcx1F5cnskRTnmdNQLl2jHlMSoyXFoJRVQ4y6vTBctMZ-L42pdiX-IsxUKTGVPRhl4jSz3oXP7JjREC-ygoWFoNkw/s1600/20100526181701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvwplEA-8Ec7ymC7gBlR1o_jzUuXtzayybw3UF8erHo4Ewhcx1F5cnskRTnmdNQLl2jHlMSoyXFoJRVQ4y6vTBctMZ-L42pdiX-IsxUKTGVPRhl4jSz3oXP7JjREC-ygoWFoNkw/s320/20100526181701.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPXz_-sz__K856Qt5-MofaiqU8-9Kxhl7632IOvS-eRkwYeEKte-otVay8nlbO6SvqydUgIOjilUfcC3b12I1C3jhXSQliRfrqQLmL5d_uRrWydVnX0E4InzBvj9z1C2skg9FKQ/s1600/0515101409-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPXz_-sz__K856Qt5-MofaiqU8-9Kxhl7632IOvS-eRkwYeEKte-otVay8nlbO6SvqydUgIOjilUfcC3b12I1C3jhXSQliRfrqQLmL5d_uRrWydVnX0E4InzBvj9z1C2skg9FKQ/s320/0515101409-00.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRp9BmiGx2QP2IilFPS2NnRAITs3umGmBtH8K0_rXftH5xYAUi4AQ7qWu2yWXs4e0L33Ep8CJO_Yo7AT-8Xeecn9y_1jHxncrrC1GfzKiLGi6Z037Q3CfFH35QmDAK3hNMpLqnJw/s1600/0508101948-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRp9BmiGx2QP2IilFPS2NnRAITs3umGmBtH8K0_rXftH5xYAUi4AQ7qWu2yWXs4e0L33Ep8CJO_Yo7AT-8Xeecn9y_1jHxncrrC1GfzKiLGi6Z037Q3CfFH35QmDAK3hNMpLqnJw/s320/0508101948-00.jpg" /></a></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-30823913562824271222010-01-27T17:09:00.001-08:002010-01-27T17:32:51.306-08:00Well, the new year is already getting old, and I'm just now posting! Forget catching up with the last 6 months- I'll just start with what's happening right now:<br />Started school last week. Biochemistry (hate it) and Biostatistics (don't quite get it). My original plan was to finish up these courses, use the summer to study for and take the MCAT, and start applying in the Fall to med schools. <br />New plan: I decided on Jan. 14 to apply for a Masters Program in Genetic Counseling. I applied the next day to the University of Utah, which had a deadline of Jan. 15 (I like to cut things a little close!) Since most of these programs only accept 6 (yes, six!) students a year, and there are over 80 applicants to each program, I found 5 more schools that had both a later deadline (Feb.1) and would not require me to retake the GRE, and applied to them! They are:<br />Wayne State University in Detroit, MI<br />Brandeis University in Waltham, Mass<br />Case Western University in Cleveland, OH<br />Arkansas State University in Little Rock, AR<br />University of Wisconsin in Madison, WI<br /><br />Anybody want to figure out my odds of getting in? There are only 32 programs in the US. The programs that I really wanted to attend aready had their deadlines for admission, so if I don't get in this year, I have a few more options for next year.<br /><br />The next big news is that my sister, Rachel had a successful IVF procedure and is now pregnant with TWINS!!!! Due in August.<br /><br />Finally, I have decided (and have already begun) to homeschool Eric for the rest of the year. He was doing so well at school, but so poorly at home, I thought that if I spent some good one-on-one time with him, he would be less likely to torment his brothers and sister so continuously. I have spent the last 4 months with the psychiatrist and with a dr. of chinese medicine/chiropractor trying every treatment known to man, to try to decrease his "tendencies", but to no avail. Next stop is a naturopathic Dr. He is on some heavy duty medication in the meantime, but I don't think it is very effective. Prayer is always welcome :-)<br /><br />Life is good! Love my little 1 year old. Makes me want another one (as usual!)still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-13326136325824439652009-08-15T12:59:00.000-07:002009-08-15T13:12:11.836-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSNY-UNot2jGMpQXIvVNK3F691TXnB_PEKVkSVFzqehH2UBp5O1vAhyphenhyphenzwWVD6Hg4xXy7ldcL1RoJnkD-1bCpEVegVVCIBZbCgezuyQihPfHvXUN_U7a1c6XKC8OqBwhvIcJ5Jppw/s1600-h/IMG_0782+(Small).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/AVvXsEjSNY-UNot2jGMpQXIvVNK3F691TXnB_PEKVkSVFzqehH2UBp5O1vAhyphenhyphenzwWVD6Hg4xXy7ldcL1RoJnkD-1bCpEVegVVCIBZbCgezuyQihPfHvXUN_U7a1c6XKC8OqBwhvIcJ5Jppw/s320/IMG_0782+(Small).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370285597255932978" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bF4sOj5Uyl3dL52HRKj3hMZ9GXkhEssrn-PrrOOE1r8of3sRG_XgQUbw266UkHU_JoctZXoNAaXFfupjpf5VlX9MZLTHg4030OXWT1bGdsUOnobJShQu6yrk1O-r-LBaANQtkA/s1600-h/IMG_0781+(Small).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/AVvXsEi5bF4sOj5Uyl3dL52HRKj3hMZ9GXkhEssrn-PrrOOE1r8of3sRG_XgQUbw266UkHU_JoctZXoNAaXFfupjpf5VlX9MZLTHg4030OXWT1bGdsUOnobJShQu6yrk1O-r-LBaANQtkA/s320/IMG_0781+(Small).JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370285595273092178" /></a><br /><br />(Pictures of Kim's kids, with Ivan)<br />Fall is fast approaching! Not the weather, but the school season. I always have mixed feelings this time of year. I'm one of those minority mothers who CAN'T WAIT for the kiddies to be back in school! This is Calvin's first year, and I'm a little sad that I don't get to enjoy my one-on-one Calvin time this year, but since Baby has arrived, Calvin is not quite as happy go lucky as he once was. He is ready! The mixed feelings part is that I have to go back to school, too! There have just a few school years that I have not had my own classes to attend, and I'm starting to miss those times! I'm only taking one class this fall, but it's a doozy: Molecular Genetics - 4 credits! Not sure how my post-partum brain is going to do with this one, but I'm giving it a whirl!<br />Still not sure about child care for the babe, but I've got someone in the works who will potentially provide respite care for Allison, who is willing to watch babe for that time that I'm in class.<br />Keith was great enough to ask his boss for Wed. mornings off, so I would only need child care for one morning a week.<br />So, I've been busy registering kids, and myself, for school. Next week, I will have to buckle down and get the school supplies. Always such a lovely experience. . . NOT!<br />Wish me luck!still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-67431367628509289842009-06-17T19:39:00.000-07:002009-06-17T19:51:41.072-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7mOvgftEiklnb3g2MZ3eRDVd0ZBaENp1Q3FY9QhLpGNzR9F7b4X_uYDDxidtJkfVtE0YyH2QhcgF-9D-Dxu-0yG18bhAm5rL7wqzP_3kLd185e1_nfSGzmsMsaVmMsfduKDq7g/s1600-h/IMG_0582.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-7mOvgftEiklnb3g2MZ3eRDVd0ZBaENp1Q3FY9QhLpGNzR9F7b4X_uYDDxidtJkfVtE0YyH2QhcgF-9D-Dxu-0yG18bhAm5rL7wqzP_3kLd185e1_nfSGzmsMsaVmMsfduKDq7g/s320/IMG_0582.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348494004479803714" /></a><br />Dealing with sleep deprivation, just in case my many, many staunch followers are wondering where I am! (Heavy sarcasm. . . )<br />Not baby's fault- he sleeps at least 5-6 hours at a time, but once he wakes up at 3 or 4 am, and then nods back to sleep, I am wide awake for the next few hours. Too tired to get up to do anything useful, but too wired to turn off my brain for much needed zzzz's. Starting to catch up with me.<br />Next time I'll post about our fantastic OBX vacation!<br />Meanwhile, baby has 3 teeth, and working on 3 more. He's crawling, scooting, rolling, and even nose-diving (off the couch, bed, wherever. But don't worry, we always catch him. . . so far!) No solids, yet, though, which is fine with me!<br />Having a blast with him! My other 5 are all taking a second seat for a while so I can enjoy my last (?) baby!still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-21981531343230778132009-05-17T20:31:00.000-07:002009-05-17T21:02:34.239-07:00I wanted to let my daughter, Madeleine, know how proud of her I am. Maddy has had many struggles in her 15 years of life. She has been on medication for psychiatric and neurological illnesses (bipolar disorder, anxiety, atypical EEG patterns) since she was 6 years old. She is the oldest of 6, and has had to share her attentions with siblings since she was 15 months old.<br /> One of her biggest struggles has been her anxiety disorder. A couple times in her school career, she has been unable to attend school for months at a time, due to her anxiety attacks. Most recently, she was unable to attend the middle school in our district, for 2 months. I was not about to home school her, and we were running out of options. My parents were kind enough to intervene, and offered to have her live with them so that they could school her, or send her to their district school, which was much smaller. We left the choice up to Maddy, and after visiting the school in their small Virginia town, she decided that she would be willing to try it out. <br />She attended there for a couple months, and did fairly well. She got to come home 2 or 3 weekends a month. Then, she started feeling her anxiety again, and really wanted to come home. She was homesick, and was starting to worry about the upcoming SOL exams. Keith really wanted her to come home, but I thought that she really needed to stick it out, so that she wouldn't get into the habit of running from every problem that made her anxious. We decided to leave it up to her. She, of course, said that she wanted to come home, but I reminded her how to make good decisions (make lists, think hard, and pray!) so she said she would take a little more time, thought, and prayer. After about 3 weeks, she let us know that she had decided to stay. She told us that she felt good about it, but she also knew that she would continue to feel homesick, and that she would need our support and prayers. I was so proud of her!!<br />She decided to run track while she was there, and had a wonderful season! I was only able to see her final meet, but she ran her fastest times at the meet, and I was just bursting with motherly pride! I can't wait to have her run again, this coming season, so that I can watch her fly!<br />But, all worldly pride aside, what I am most proud about is Madeleine's strong spirit. She has always had a testimony of the truth of the gospel, but since she has been away, I have seen it grow by leaps and bounds. She is one of the most caring young women that I know. She wants to be friendly and welcoming to other girls who are struggling to fit in (just like she has always felt), and has righteous anger for behavior that involves cliques and popularity contests. She wants to do the right thing more than she wants to fit in. Another way she demonstrates this is by how she dresses. She will always come and ask me what I think about an outfit that she is unsure about, as far as modesty goes, and will always change if she continues to feel unsure. She keeps her language clean and is faithful to her beliefs. I feel privileged to be her mother! <br />Don't get me wrong- we have definitely had hard times, and most likely will continue to butt heads about some things, but I am very glad that I came to the realization that my daughter is truly a blessing!still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-60027698713551179142009-05-10T19:42:00.000-07:002009-05-10T19:57:10.839-07:00<div align="center"> Pictures for all you Non-Facebookers!<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBg5m2zuPdr5AEQhBA84v5-y9nFMZzbmwL2NqAy3TJBdvrKtGmPBkfk0S8y2HN219Wc4dT_LvaoyHIdNyShSBvOMfga1HlCRPpUxRDaBGsmpPDX6beTLZYpk8zSqUQ5g6zipCLsA/s1600-h/IMG_0570.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334394050398016946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBg5m2zuPdr5AEQhBA84v5-y9nFMZzbmwL2NqAy3TJBdvrKtGmPBkfk0S8y2HN219Wc4dT_LvaoyHIdNyShSBvOMfga1HlCRPpUxRDaBGsmpPDX6beTLZYpk8zSqUQ5g6zipCLsA/s320/IMG_0570.jpg" border="0" /></a> Calvin and Ivan<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAdehpXxGJwpN6z4Rw5VS_snLB316-f3BIeywhAwFeR9kTqA-e1SbHm_6L1DutGDAr4AYbE3d8tHhJQ1Sgf8Ckg8erY8Uoh1FlQSWGuxQIrqYUXlxb8WsMKeC3tJAGcCBAzjO6g/s1600-h/IMG_0560.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334394047512193106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDAdehpXxGJwpN6z4Rw5VS_snLB316-f3BIeywhAwFeR9kTqA-e1SbHm_6L1DutGDAr4AYbE3d8tHhJQ1Sgf8Ckg8erY8Uoh1FlQSWGuxQIrqYUXlxb8WsMKeC3tJAGcCBAzjO6g/s320/IMG_0560.jpg" border="0" /></a> 2 favorite fingers<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOSvCvdyoo6BZWqfivMekW33P1KF2hlm1GrbVck60-QVDLQMjoymNYZvkCcuIeNixIKKo4r9QKSzfrGwW-K0IhVmysEUeXO08Pg75BJ8RX7mpdB1tY_xhOmORW8mLSpLYnjjkgA/s1600-h/IMG_0565.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334394044715930738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOSvCvdyoo6BZWqfivMekW33P1KF2hlm1GrbVck60-QVDLQMjoymNYZvkCcuIeNixIKKo4r9QKSzfrGwW-K0IhVmysEUeXO08Pg75BJ8RX7mpdB1tY_xhOmORW8mLSpLYnjjkgA/s320/IMG_0565.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ivan<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZEb550znGhMAO2RAKbA0JCdhk9hMS6ODI-R38wuMkCsL7_nl5k1Pj5nPAq8Rlv7CwJPrh4cgugW9D21y3tgTxXctXNqHzKBxaet9MkGZpAXHpJr7kVeYTZDWxyc-exzeFBKslQw/s1600-h/IMG_0547.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334394039204106034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZEb550znGhMAO2RAKbA0JCdhk9hMS6ODI-R38wuMkCsL7_nl5k1Pj5nPAq8Rlv7CwJPrh4cgugW9D21y3tgTxXctXNqHzKBxaet9MkGZpAXHpJr7kVeYTZDWxyc-exzeFBKslQw/s320/IMG_0547.jpg" border="0" /></a> The crazed housewife!<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKrTQnO-DYspA5Pch3gFyVF2jcPJN750i85fOeVOj7zUpxQDqT0hEuBFzJk5HoazDIDgHl_C52k8uaSrimLXFuzzg8WRRZv4feME8sndoowplztW8z1USCyDFB7Y2SSXQ-t52Bg/s1600-h/IMG_0553.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334391888358852578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKrTQnO-DYspA5Pch3gFyVF2jcPJN750i85fOeVOj7zUpxQDqT0hEuBFzJk5HoazDIDgHl_C52k8uaSrimLXFuzzg8WRRZv4feME8sndoowplztW8z1USCyDFB7Y2SSXQ-t52Bg/s320/IMG_0553.jpg" border="0" /></a> Steven, being Steven<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGN5dhT-z5TIWeKuQn3BambN-imt48DyjqVjmOHfcnLcrb-a7qPih32bJLj3hwPny49egO0wxCkONzlqDTl3G6XglodWsK_2mbxlmelA6UH_6zB9YLEVlCwuurA48Tr-nD8EEhw/s1600-h/fatty.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334391887064999650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGN5dhT-z5TIWeKuQn3BambN-imt48DyjqVjmOHfcnLcrb-a7qPih32bJLj3hwPny49egO0wxCkONzlqDTl3G6XglodWsK_2mbxlmelA6UH_6zB9YLEVlCwuurA48Tr-nD8EEhw/s320/fatty.jpg" border="0" /></a>Check out those breastfed thighs!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1Z7_JIUw7RQ5vLc8UCjdluZG7G3i_Y8Xu5RyE5Y6WBAthrgQpqw3nBP8PZTFICIISO7iZ7Jl0NBU26nnjsKPY3gWtmkqrf8mXGR8wfd-T78p4q1FiU22zZCaX_3mWPTtX17lrw/s1600-h/IMG_0549.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334391882521892546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1Z7_JIUw7RQ5vLc8UCjdluZG7G3i_Y8Xu5RyE5Y6WBAthrgQpqw3nBP8PZTFICIISO7iZ7Jl0NBU26nnjsKPY3gWtmkqrf8mXGR8wfd-T78p4q1FiU22zZCaX_3mWPTtX17lrw/s320/IMG_0549.jpg" border="0" /></a> Calvin<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCPXm6XJriUcNfotjx0oBySRAACMxUwzpLEu3Kd9Czza7N8Csr-PDQQ1V9fa5fL-7ACZNLZ4ODbGaCEY7o0_BkA3t4bo-m6GhWBTQ9z7S9HAiphaDlofXJGureXTIYNAuBcqkShg/s1600-h/eric.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334391877466869186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCPXm6XJriUcNfotjx0oBySRAACMxUwzpLEu3Kd9Czza7N8Csr-PDQQ1V9fa5fL-7ACZNLZ4ODbGaCEY7o0_BkA3t4bo-m6GhWBTQ9z7S9HAiphaDlofXJGureXTIYNAuBcqkShg/s320/eric.jpg" border="0" /></a>Eric<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aRqq0DwcZP-7yIkuWopxoyyfp2Wl2z6LH6n22WJuzZMRdakaW213fdNKF8ptPxessDYm3fXrMSVPIrPEa9PgSLJUudDfLffKRlM8OMrbUB5UeZ1BwIyveP82VSSZ1KJHjM-i2w/s1600-h/calvin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334391872542597170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6aRqq0DwcZP-7yIkuWopxoyyfp2Wl2z6LH6n22WJuzZMRdakaW213fdNKF8ptPxessDYm3fXrMSVPIrPEa9PgSLJUudDfLffKRlM8OMrbUB5UeZ1BwIyveP82VSSZ1KJHjM-i2w/s320/calvin.jpg" border="0" /></a>Calvin and Ivan</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-31492587661695193482009-04-19T18:32:00.000-07:002009-04-19T18:47:10.979-07:00<div align="center">Aches and Pains</div><div align="left"> I was lucky enough that during my miserable pregnancy, I did not suffer from my daily aches and pains. I have developed arthritis in many of my joints, and for some reason, pregnancy gave me some respite from these (however, nausea is not something I would willing take on again. Way worse than pain!)</div><div align="left">My worst pain right now is in my wrists, shoulders, and upper back. Just take a gander at some of these photos, and maybe the cause will become clear!</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbPZynDradXnqFfZYVl3A4Zba5s1dIb2krRJxvGkkhqmsk_g4XZSaSbDOqcpjKBpNH4lSy4cBAQoVO9vHjdIpxaZKmRxYh4dj6omk6YOTp68HquTTdNFyyFqF5IpfS7ORtE8jYg/s1600-h/Copy+of+Ivan%27s+Best+(Medium)+(Small).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326582302363005106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKbPZynDradXnqFfZYVl3A4Zba5s1dIb2krRJxvGkkhqmsk_g4XZSaSbDOqcpjKBpNH4lSy4cBAQoVO9vHjdIpxaZKmRxYh4dj6omk6YOTp68HquTTdNFyyFqF5IpfS7ORtE8jYg/s320/Copy+of+Ivan%27s+Best+(Medium)+(Small).jpg" border="0" /></a> Adorable picture that Collee, my SIL, took at Pandapas Pond last week.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYn_AIK_tnGv6rrVSK__3V8h1qtw8Pe6tP2xJNrrfVux4sFPLCs9ItOTspEiu1MvtoD_LRAJEImdVY-U3ww94lzuNZmYEevKrhJ5FlVRjH16ULUmnDUV-sqWWQISqKhs1j7ptBw/s1600-h/IMG_0504.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326582301732928754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYn_AIK_tnGv6rrVSK__3V8h1qtw8Pe6tP2xJNrrfVux4sFPLCs9ItOTspEiu1MvtoD_LRAJEImdVY-U3ww94lzuNZmYEevKrhJ5FlVRjH16ULUmnDUV-sqWWQISqKhs1j7ptBw/s320/IMG_0504.JPG" border="0" /></a> Chunky monkey!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNdI0wFNcpGqYl2XqsiDLXPYbXIZQtBl5PLub6u4GInNZLk4XlFdTP185TeEun8qIPI8T0n17If4D4SCskrglK0EWr3W_cvl8FdPEMK6NrdBa04bZWu2TjS8Uz1sudKikQqysJw/s1600-h/IMG_0506.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326582296367908754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRNdI0wFNcpGqYl2XqsiDLXPYbXIZQtBl5PLub6u4GInNZLk4XlFdTP185TeEun8qIPI8T0n17If4D4SCskrglK0EWr3W_cvl8FdPEMK6NrdBa04bZWu2TjS8Uz1sudKikQqysJw/s320/IMG_0506.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Look at that girth!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZI4VX8Ivb0uZIoL7RGgrP_4dS61AarTFBHGVnO-Jv3wLKK6EyQrrYVAF38sggpkHoovBXCeDrP4AhSylrJOrTX34gEuT_ziZyOCQZujlA6nsRLflj9lDd2aX4BRQaqfWeYpGXlA/s1600-h/IMG_0508.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326582292425479874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZI4VX8Ivb0uZIoL7RGgrP_4dS61AarTFBHGVnO-Jv3wLKK6EyQrrYVAF38sggpkHoovBXCeDrP4AhSylrJOrTX34gEuT_ziZyOCQZujlA6nsRLflj9lDd2aX4BRQaqfWeYpGXlA/s320/IMG_0508.JPG" border="0" /></a> The famous plumber's pose.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HTijk08PHabG8rRyUO6-awdlTAt4wjIOnQ8uTu2m0TKVOsmAtJLcuqqyb2qhaNhDyp9qSVeNRXcfQAXKj9kSSVtcSOHVq_LcgnNmfk0AqGcQ0lIvb5mlA7h9j1IlxwRASB_0dQ/s1600-h/IMG_0545.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326582281506427218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_HTijk08PHabG8rRyUO6-awdlTAt4wjIOnQ8uTu2m0TKVOsmAtJLcuqqyb2qhaNhDyp9qSVeNRXcfQAXKj9kSSVtcSOHVq_LcgnNmfk0AqGcQ0lIvb5mlA7h9j1IlxwRASB_0dQ/s320/IMG_0545.JPG" border="0" /></a>Like he cares that Mommy's in pain because he's obese. . . <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-7401236714551503542009-03-19T09:17:00.000-07:002009-03-19T09:37:51.007-07:00<div><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center">Motivation</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjotzvqIyUWeRZ_hW1bak3cOPGcXdNZVX9LYDp4FQ156LBNjsQnlvVg1OLGt8YNOLqrHoEwTCPGAKLEdH1fL4u0cqKvpqYeuRh74OprHu8yalBD39xo36CzBcnPFWjxjjMjO9Xw/s1600-h/IMG_0420.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314937372386354482" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjotzvqIyUWeRZ_hW1bak3cOPGcXdNZVX9LYDp4FQ156LBNjsQnlvVg1OLGt8YNOLqrHoEwTCPGAKLEdH1fL4u0cqKvpqYeuRh74OprHu8yalBD39xo36CzBcnPFWjxjjMjO9Xw/s320/IMG_0420.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div><br /><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left">I took this semester off from school, obviously. I determined that I would use this time to study for the MCAT and try to take it in the summer. Guess how much I've studied! Nada. Zilch. Nil. </div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left">So, what seems to be my problem? I just don't feel like it! In fact, I just don't feel like doing anything, except playing on the computer, and reading fiction. I'll never accomplish any of my goals at this rate! </div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div align="left">The solution? Change my goals! My new goal is to enjoy my days at home with my family. So far, so good!</div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAzQNJFNCt0pxotf5NezRq0UEiJGInKe8Cz90WHcnnqbD7gg_oV3ja7ew0Rgdl5zTKpyQcf27itncyi9vpGlwP0W2L7yR3oduVLY4St8IUkuW1ne19tGZirhOgsNIteZnxMWdFg/s1600-h/IMG_0431.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314937377209968098" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdAzQNJFNCt0pxotf5NezRq0UEiJGInKe8Cz90WHcnnqbD7gg_oV3ja7ew0Rgdl5zTKpyQcf27itncyi9vpGlwP0W2L7yR3oduVLY4St8IUkuW1ne19tGZirhOgsNIteZnxMWdFg/s320/IMG_0431.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div><br /><br /></div><div align="left">Meanwhile, if anyone has some good ideas on how I can <em>eventually</em> get motivated to study, let me know!</div><div><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1P_mlQQdrM3r_4Vu2GouztnOLO3OsXZg6NFRZdGUq147mmUSnagPTkLTuWH99nKl6HeyowNCr5hHaElquUnwOP1MHfH952JIE94AeJ5uzA6CxE3mHl0F0ad6uTxuIrHm-OdHI8Q/s1600-h/IMG_0436.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314937377582849282" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1P_mlQQdrM3r_4Vu2GouztnOLO3OsXZg6NFRZdGUq147mmUSnagPTkLTuWH99nKl6HeyowNCr5hHaElquUnwOP1MHfH952JIE94AeJ5uzA6CxE3mHl0F0ad6uTxuIrHm-OdHI8Q/s320/IMG_0436.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div><br /></div><div align="left"></div></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-2796508026720109462009-02-25T16:15:00.000-08:002009-02-25T21:14:41.802-08:00<div align="center">8 Weeks!</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisynmhKrNSkRYwk0zVxeRKReig3_V3-l8hVG7WwpZmR7AbBmeOyPJzAVVunkCb5G0izADflhpOFgm6GD9KBeCS1i-p17oL2IGRmhKhb9yC8xbXZi0kkrhmhgcVvtHwL2sNEYsdxg/s1600-h/IMG_0384.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306895179653258722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 237px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 325px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisynmhKrNSkRYwk0zVxeRKReig3_V3-l8hVG7WwpZmR7AbBmeOyPJzAVVunkCb5G0izADflhpOFgm6GD9KBeCS1i-p17oL2IGRmhKhb9yC8xbXZi0kkrhmhgcVvtHwL2sNEYsdxg/s320/IMG_0384.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Baby Ivan is 8 weeks! He is getting such a personality! We all love him to death (not literally, of course). Even Allison is perking up around him, and will actually give him kisses.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUu1VcLafzifxaWwsyIfcDIIJeSuitZH0n68Z-1hzhczltgcG_qBYabNB9JiQTldBX2avGcRijdxP-jRNLrt_b7ATIrd1w8Y0QvOL4qg_SGEtPH3URsVO1sSVIz606Nja8vhDdA/s1600-h/IMG_0380.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306895174389395506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtUu1VcLafzifxaWwsyIfcDIIJeSuitZH0n68Z-1hzhczltgcG_qBYabNB9JiQTldBX2avGcRijdxP-jRNLrt_b7ATIrd1w8Y0QvOL4qg_SGEtPH3URsVO1sSVIz606Nja8vhDdA/s320/IMG_0380.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />His older brothers love to spend time with him (when they are not fighting over computer games), and Steven is our designated Friday night babysitter- he can actually get Ivan to bed and to <em>sleep</em>! It is amazing!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiER-aEVGRDV8BbJMPREjB3AfRg7x4MGfGdV3N3h8lrQDZ6AnszyDso0A3Xbb0CnyuMAoYnR2ooFj8iuAsJbnzl0efXCGrVyEne1HUgBHxzigb5S_qYUhtcpOwF8Gzg6PDY0RSoWA/s1600-h/IMG_0390.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306895166052659186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiER-aEVGRDV8BbJMPREjB3AfRg7x4MGfGdV3N3h8lrQDZ6AnszyDso0A3Xbb0CnyuMAoYnR2ooFj8iuAsJbnzl0efXCGrVyEne1HUgBHxzigb5S_qYUhtcpOwF8Gzg6PDY0RSoWA/s320/IMG_0390.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Ivan is growing, as babies tend to do. Mostly in his cheeks. Don't forget, though. . . the camera adds 10 lbs.!<br /><br /><div></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-43489911735338292632009-02-12T12:21:00.000-08:002009-02-12T14:13:33.515-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCGWOn_BMGaFmFeFUFt5dNkQtD1K_CwW9y-EE9E5zjcHJZzcagE18ittU21X5YLK7ap3NYVttr0Uj5VRd23rWs8hEw9JPrt7-lXv7hwL4TsHYOJ1Ck-cpadtRR2aAitQVt-GApzQ/s1600-h/babe.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302012688115753234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCGWOn_BMGaFmFeFUFt5dNkQtD1K_CwW9y-EE9E5zjcHJZzcagE18ittU21X5YLK7ap3NYVttr0Uj5VRd23rWs8hEw9JPrt7-lXv7hwL4TsHYOJ1Ck-cpadtRR2aAitQVt-GApzQ/s320/babe.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><p align="center"><strong>Sweet Dreams</strong></p><p> </p><p>Little George Ivan is 6 weeks old. He is smiling, cooing, trying to laugh, and, best of all. . . . he is sleeping through the night! He falls asleep between 10:30 and 11:30, and sleeps til 6:00 or 6:30. I get him out of his crib (which is at the foot of our bed) and he nurses a little, and goes right back to sleep. We usually lounge around 'til 9 or so, when I get him up to change him, because by that time he is completely soaked!</p><p>It has been so nice, and has really helped with recovery. After going into the hospital a few weeks ago, I was really concerned about how I would recover from that horrible abdominal pain and, of course, the birth. His nightly sleep habits just started improving since then, and now we both sleep like babies!</p><p>All of my other babies have slept with me, and wanted to nurse every 1 1/2 hours, and I felt like I never got enough sleep, so this is a surprise and a blessing (tender mercy). I figure that Heavenly Father knows that my body is just too old for the regular baby routine, and told little Ivan to take it easy on me!</p><p>I don't get anything done during the day, still, because I'm either holding, burping, changing, or nursing Ivan, but since I'm well rested, it doesn't really bother me. Just noboby plan on coming to visit any time soon!</p>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-24773572794592030242009-02-05T07:30:00.000-08:002009-02-05T07:50:16.529-08:00<div align="center"> <strong> Music Appreciation<br /></strong><br /></div><div><div><div><div><div align="left">During a pregnancy I get so sick that any stimulus can make me nauseous and start puking (gross, I know). Unfortunately, this includes music. With my first pregnancy, Keith and I had just bought this awesome CD called "Green Forest"- little aboriginal children singing to this cool beat. Well, after listening through my nauseous state, I've never again been able to listen to this CD without feeling positively pukey! Even if Keith says one line from one of the songs, I go all cold and clammy.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwCASJmvy80EwqR68oqg3izGnSpd2XzwaOTBs1VLupxj39lL9DmHlrLPKEW5Fh-UmHf9APUePkBpS0awBVxSk87XTMRj7MRdAhPE45RFwK9KoMd-4Wsd4hhdIzlIKIe2pveG3WA/s1600-h/IMG_0328+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299339866327955202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwCASJmvy80EwqR68oqg3izGnSpd2XzwaOTBs1VLupxj39lL9DmHlrLPKEW5Fh-UmHf9APUePkBpS0awBVxSk87XTMRj7MRdAhPE45RFwK9KoMd-4Wsd4hhdIzlIKIe2pveG3WA/s320/IMG_0328+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="left">So, instructions for this pregnancy were as follows: no music - at all! Keith knew that if he played me a song he liked, he'd never be able to play it again. I hid all my favorite CD's so Iwouldn't be tempted. I even stopped playing the piano, fearing that all my fav's would never get played again.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">At last, I am able to listen to music! I love <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ98EVsd8HQOGiLgA5OnSkn0wUZGwBVPcT_kTIBs00U9LAIHji6yI0rGbPYF9fS-6VRJIXLsRVUkBOo_iU8YQQwwiEVcoIOBG8JfbsPk8ViklbYbJgX68wGk-X2wzzJm4QI1IVRg/s1600-h/IMG_0356+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299339862375316530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ98EVsd8HQOGiLgA5OnSkn0wUZGwBVPcT_kTIBs00U9LAIHji6yI0rGbPYF9fS-6VRJIXLsRVUkBOo_iU8YQQwwiEVcoIOBG8JfbsPk8ViklbYbJgX68wGk-X2wzzJm4QI1IVRg/s320/IMG_0356+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a>music! Piano, classical, 80's rock, new age instrumental, Indie, Irish . . . the only exceptions are country and Celine Dion-ish. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXsrHsXGYFHO5CDjEaxnhyphenhyphen8xQgzXp2dwGcB7KoMVbMzdiGPX7h6P1bV1rVx7U_HOlrprEr4baFA4j3FEwEf26rlFCQpCfsxbJR0WWiVog1HbFYkhKktP9d0EZVdqbhB_LjozCEw/s1600-h/IMG_0333+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299339869997554562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXsrHsXGYFHO5CDjEaxnhyphenhyphen8xQgzXp2dwGcB7KoMVbMzdiGPX7h6P1bV1rVx7U_HOlrprEr4baFA4j3FEwEf26rlFCQpCfsxbJR0WWiVog1HbFYkhKktP9d0EZVdqbhB_LjozCEw/s320/IMG_0333+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a>Unfortunately, I still can't play piano b/c I'm busy holding this guy all the time : )</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaatO2AoeI17yJas5V_LTddJ8-MDxBgxjNh3Iv18Gcy-fS4UM3kq-4YfgRlaOZL4dtFOe2uxgyL5qWvWRjSaXZJHtFpaRAdXVPL1rlyOWGA19W46gwqxf3FbX8XMHceCBn32N9A/s1600-h/IMG_0354+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299339862141322946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaatO2AoeI17yJas5V_LTddJ8-MDxBgxjNh3Iv18Gcy-fS4UM3kq-4YfgRlaOZL4dtFOe2uxgyL5qWvWRjSaXZJHtFpaRAdXVPL1rlyOWGA19W46gwqxf3FbX8XMHceCBn32N9A/s320/IMG_0354+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugX75Q_i54kymIuQ24vrKxWb7WHpFZY-OAynna23qfRCEw37APk6zWB74yl2W99pvZ2ZL4jzdus4W1CqYlNRNYWN1JIlZ3QRmBGHBYFa9zcBN21wVNAXNCV0XOXk9nFnsteW3qA/s1600-h/IMG_0332+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299339866254295650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgugX75Q_i54kymIuQ24vrKxWb7WHpFZY-OAynna23qfRCEw37APk6zWB74yl2W99pvZ2ZL4jzdus4W1CqYlNRNYWN1JIlZ3QRmBGHBYFa9zcBN21wVNAXNCV0XOXk9nFnsteW3qA/s320/IMG_0332+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-23387835299660296162009-01-18T20:39:00.000-08:002009-01-18T21:09:25.694-08:00<div align="center">2 Weeks!<br /></div><br /><div align="center">Baby Ivan is 2 1/2 weeks old. He went to church today, for the first time. I only had to take him out of one meeting, for about 15 minutes. It's always a little scary going out with a baby for the first time. I've gone to Wal-mart a few times sans baby, and haven't bothered with make-up or decent clothes, but going to church is a big deal: make-up, matching clothes (for me), and packing all of the extras that baby might need. Keith is so good to come home from his early morning meetings, and get the other kids ready and off to church, so that I only have the get myself and baby (and, Eric, this morning) ready! I still manage to be about 5-10 minutes late anyway!<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292865511024265138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgADdpzHblym8oiMeeK1zd3MTTMZnHW0ySKr9WWFCe9bqtq8QfIhqR7iF8Now3q9O29HUGVUNhlNWf6rZvxV3-Qr_r_PbPEt6G1y_C0AVjXY6NTd_k3osi8nR6gSA9o3dFMQ_Y6wg/s320/Maddy's+hair+2+002+(Small).JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center">Maddy's new hair color- thanks Sam!<br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXhNBmm1tWggFnF7ZpFbXvP4e5kQMRWGXXkszppxdK_sgQ0ZRW99WyDUN0I4gYunsY_QgnZ2Dp0tXXB9wd8CVb77-6q8NFI7LNulRXJd7_0UFW3fN-PwBS_kbZQoHspwn2NZsIQ/s1600-h/IMG_0324+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292863378124230578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXhNBmm1tWggFnF7ZpFbXvP4e5kQMRWGXXkszppxdK_sgQ0ZRW99WyDUN0I4gYunsY_QgnZ2Dp0tXXB9wd8CVb77-6q8NFI7LNulRXJd7_0UFW3fN-PwBS_kbZQoHspwn2NZsIQ/s320/IMG_0324+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p align="center"><br /><br /></p><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><br /><p align="center"></p><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><br /><p align="center"></p><br /><p align="center"><br /></p><br /><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><br /><br /></p><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeIYpjXcOcmMMsjoYL0qMFlNG8Z57zlEbTmkNA1LC3fTxhX1ENdg_AKWoBNQ0-J_xDl7DZW7GAPZAZZ5hQ3L_bHfisJjtv9NMc9fyp2VFNkgeYE4flUn-d0xIIP5kB6jsxNfwjg/s1600-h/IMG_0326+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292863383493670434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeIYpjXcOcmMMsjoYL0qMFlNG8Z57zlEbTmkNA1LC3fTxhX1ENdg_AKWoBNQ0-J_xDl7DZW7GAPZAZZ5hQ3L_bHfisJjtv9NMc9fyp2VFNkgeYE4flUn-d0xIIP5kB6jsxNfwjg/s320/IMG_0326+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><p align="center"><br /><br /></p><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaeIYpjXcOcmMMsjoYL0qMFlNG8Z57zlEbTmkNA1LC3fTxhX1ENdg_AKWoBNQ0-J_xDl7DZW7GAPZAZZ5hQ3L_bHfisJjtv9NMc9fyp2VFNkgeYE4flUn-d0xIIP5kB6jsxNfwjg/s1600-h/IMG_0326+(Small).JPG"></a></div><br /><p align="center"><br /><br /></p><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroM6KLzcCnJuCe2FElARqffYD2esZ93L32y16bvzZPr3GTx4suSTjPeandOT3Os6AQTVmfjnF4e11Esh-WmeP_8_FnCsm1v8OPJsZHsCcOqVl2ZS5MatGUw_5Ugpk8_HrrogiyA/s1600-h/IMG_0325+(Small).JPG"></a></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroM6KLzcCnJuCe2FElARqffYD2esZ93L32y16bvzZPr3GTx4suSTjPeandOT3Os6AQTVmfjnF4e11Esh-WmeP_8_FnCsm1v8OPJsZHsCcOqVl2ZS5MatGUw_5Ugpk8_HrrogiyA/s1600-h/IMG_0325+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292863382935688162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroM6KLzcCnJuCe2FElARqffYD2esZ93L32y16bvzZPr3GTx4suSTjPeandOT3Os6AQTVmfjnF4e11Esh-WmeP_8_FnCsm1v8OPJsZHsCcOqVl2ZS5MatGUw_5Ugpk8_HrrogiyA/s320/IMG_0325+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlA0xiZzhC3777nSo3pnABZ3HMslOpXvGUOl768h3QSrMleik8eGy62hhoz4NYANOyGXAQB1JPEA1vmdU6ojIBkusPA4WADHbjRWkSGBrZMCv-PBT5LPJvUw6T0pkZx37aYvcKcA/s1600-h/IMG_0323+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292863381825571410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlA0xiZzhC3777nSo3pnABZ3HMslOpXvGUOl768h3QSrMleik8eGy62hhoz4NYANOyGXAQB1JPEA1vmdU6ojIBkusPA4WADHbjRWkSGBrZMCv-PBT5LPJvUw6T0pkZx37aYvcKcA/s320/IMG_0323+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroM6KLzcCnJuCe2FElARqffYD2esZ93L32y16bvzZPr3GTx4suSTjPeandOT3Os6AQTVmfjnF4e11Esh-WmeP_8_FnCsm1v8OPJsZHsCcOqVl2ZS5MatGUw_5Ugpk8_HrrogiyA/s1600-h/IMG_0325+(Small).JPG"></a></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><br />TTFN!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroM6KLzcCnJuCe2FElARqffYD2esZ93L32y16bvzZPr3GTx4suSTjPeandOT3Os6AQTVmfjnF4e11Esh-WmeP_8_FnCsm1v8OPJsZHsCcOqVl2ZS5MatGUw_5Ugpk8_HrrogiyA/s1600-h/IMG_0325+(Small).JPG"></a></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-33687270902511381102009-01-11T13:48:00.000-08:002009-03-26T07:08:42.776-07:00<div align="center"><strong>Welcome baby Ivan</strong></div><div align="center">-only 13 days late!</div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3NTrjdWSChSpqssUylF7-1TfMa_h0Ea5TfxkFLqAnnTkvv4WYWvfXDUI_8x_9XrS8HQMCytxW5SFcDjOTqLbWabTGsKBFnBRDVk5xdFyDpmP3O1VdUqI6iPvq-jCZaJOPblsuQ/s1600-h/IMG_0271+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290157929689768562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3NTrjdWSChSpqssUylF7-1TfMa_h0Ea5TfxkFLqAnnTkvv4WYWvfXDUI_8x_9XrS8HQMCytxW5SFcDjOTqLbWabTGsKBFnBRDVk5xdFyDpmP3O1VdUqI6iPvq-jCZaJOPblsuQ/s320/IMG_0271+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a> George Ivan Maxwell -</div><div align="center">born at home in a nice warm baby pool.<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmDhQpesRbbm8mP2eQd9c6KVF6G3FvMbc4m3oCviFEpJscujD6vEcTGRTOOdBRVtrfF8W7n_J6H1rYORnQ5l3PgPddqsNBy512X-SubMRUTU0IKZyhNxqjzR6gaMJU_X_8SujRQ/s1600-h/IMG_0278+(Small)+(2).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290157929626894306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmDhQpesRbbm8mP2eQd9c6KVF6G3FvMbc4m3oCviFEpJscujD6vEcTGRTOOdBRVtrfF8W7n_J6H1rYORnQ5l3PgPddqsNBy512X-SubMRUTU0IKZyhNxqjzR6gaMJU_X_8SujRQ/s320/IMG_0278+(Small)+(2).JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Ivan weighed 9 lbs. 6 oz. and was 21 1/2 inch long- definitely no Schrimpp!</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0SZDLScWKRLdFwiHl_c3JBKYtf5uvfPtoqHTE71C-qqAWip7a7mFQlQmFQhN-uJj6QMCLMSFmwupDrJmd2-twM-R4rOttjsxYoWMa-1FI2yRIRicTmcj1Ypf-1GXRbZHH6CyGQ/s1600-h/IMG_0282+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290157923822713810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0SZDLScWKRLdFwiHl_c3JBKYtf5uvfPtoqHTE71C-qqAWip7a7mFQlQmFQhN-uJj6QMCLMSFmwupDrJmd2-twM-R4rOttjsxYoWMa-1FI2yRIRicTmcj1Ypf-1GXRbZHH6CyGQ/s320/IMG_0282+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Our New Years Eve baby!<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyaCFRVThgUU39aAIHqr6wp4xsNBzqOFNFaf1viXOw9EeoqyRFtWfa_O7Y2r2XV4c83qxth8eSvbX_QMi1gEbbVz8mqB7DiFr307Y1akDg2tAjr-AbdL3hjRFBsAI72C0tvAKfsA/s1600-h/IMG_0283+(Small).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290157924422465698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyaCFRVThgUU39aAIHqr6wp4xsNBzqOFNFaf1viXOw9EeoqyRFtWfa_O7Y2r2XV4c83qxth8eSvbX_QMi1gEbbVz8mqB7DiFr307Y1akDg2tAjr-AbdL3hjRFBsAI72C0tvAKfsA/s320/IMG_0283+(Small).JPG" border="0" /></a> Ivan sleeping peacefully after a hard days birth!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-7603280988942283322008-12-21T20:31:00.000-08:002008-12-21T20:39:53.287-08:00<div align="center"><strong>Baby, baby. . . wherefore art thou, baby?<br /></strong></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6JDoIbWJ-eaytqDd6URF0L1HxZQAmnWOR4kOspwVJmJY8x0BdnUXcE0A20BuuYPgwZ4EZlffzvlbouBY-RfHzKvxLamdbzKd61ybR32rtFDapoUjmIaDPH4U5GShaycTSfF2Gg/s1600-h/9months.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282468771756445506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6JDoIbWJ-eaytqDd6URF0L1HxZQAmnWOR4kOspwVJmJY8x0BdnUXcE0A20BuuYPgwZ4EZlffzvlbouBY-RfHzKvxLamdbzKd61ybR32rtFDapoUjmIaDPH4U5GShaycTSfF2Gg/s320/9months.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Just thought I should post a couple of preggo shots, before baby comes. A lot of people have been telling me that I only look pregnant from the side, and from that view, I REALLY look pregant. It is a different look for me- normally I just look like a watermelon with a gland problem ALL over my body!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKn7QHOyIoFt3WSTrFiuR4SrVONXrKe5vZcKpmNEUhuvhNBvCQpYC5I_5_kjsZlX6BrKbR_8_bw8WDZ1BIIWRdgM01eR8Suy5xQGfrsp4h40-T8EZg6fr2GIw9s1BiGXPHx3sEQ/s1600-h/9months!.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><div>No sign of baby, yet, and going on 4 days overdue. . . </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKn7QHOyIoFt3WSTrFiuR4SrVONXrKe5vZcKpmNEUhuvhNBvCQpYC5I_5_kjsZlX6BrKbR_8_bw8WDZ1BIIWRdgM01eR8Suy5xQGfrsp4h40-T8EZg6fr2GIw9s1BiGXPHx3sEQ/s1600-h/9months!.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282468783087306658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 173px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuKn7QHOyIoFt3WSTrFiuR4SrVONXrKe5vZcKpmNEUhuvhNBvCQpYC5I_5_kjsZlX6BrKbR_8_bw8WDZ1BIIWRdgM01eR8Suy5xQGfrsp4h40-T8EZg6fr2GIw9s1BiGXPHx3sEQ/s320/9months!.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-54235123483886077232008-11-11T20:28:00.000-08:002008-11-11T20:48:05.197-08:00<div align="center">The Great Race!</div><br /><div align="left">This baby is due on December 18. My last final is on December 16. Try getting ready for a home water-birth, when you have 5 tests and 2 finals that are approaching just as quickly! Not happening! I don't even have a car seat, yet. Much less clothing, blankets, diapers or anything baby-related. If ye are prepared, ye shall have no fear- I have to say that I should be petrified!<br /><br /><br />But. . . I'm not. I'm just so tired of the whole pregnancy thing, that it doesn't even seem to be related to the baby that's inside. On the bright side, though, this is the first time that the last trimester (and the school semester), seem to be going way too fast!<br /><br /><br />Whenever Keith wants to talk about baby names, I just look at him and think "that's what all those hours of labor are for!" I don't say it, b/c he already thinks I've lost it (which is pretty perceptive of him!)<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267626396286301554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8MVCbWcuehwnn-NNmVl6vs7xOfsSP6uQyjQCxRo-UZ0NwVhRuhQZ0KslhqqVQ9HfMmfgFUeVziUc5tjnAnaNQJomUR793rhK4l9hQi7V2llNTgQBVZIFj7vJ1PM7mBIGxuNxSQ/s320/Jonathan+Calvin+looking+at+you.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center">Calvin- Dec. 23, 2003</div>(This was taken 5 years ago - it's been a while since I've done this baby thing!)still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-12407812832732395102008-10-19T12:12:00.000-07:002008-10-19T12:54:21.017-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPetLlE4ZnAqTwmjId0bIjC6BombFS3H6MqAvDTchSv5iIwDk8CZCPwdSTHL99dOQ17FAHS0jB70SYA1NKfdHUK_Ngvum_IhbKbZxWYGTXchM_j4jWn0giToWkmi6zOYk5pvlStA/s1600-h/IMG_0191.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258955601610838178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPetLlE4ZnAqTwmjId0bIjC6BombFS3H6MqAvDTchSv5iIwDk8CZCPwdSTHL99dOQ17FAHS0jB70SYA1NKfdHUK_Ngvum_IhbKbZxWYGTXchM_j4jWn0giToWkmi6zOYk5pvlStA/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This past 6 months, or so, I have been bombarded with trials and struggles. I have a really hard time with pregnancy, both physically and emotionally. It brings out all of my worst character flaws. With that, comes the realization of how far I need to go in order to overcome my "natural man" self. </div><br /><div>But, beyond my internal struggles, I have a few family issues that are continual obstacles to my desire for a peaceful, loving home. Eric, my number 4 child, has recently been officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, and Anxiety Disorder. This brings the official count to 2 children with the same dx (Madeleine, the oldest, was diagnosed officially at age 8). Together with Allison, the third child, who has a severe disability (lissencephaly), daily life in our home is anything but peaceful and orderly.</div><br /><div>This has allowed me to do some growing, but most of my growing is in the area of realization of how little I have progressed, and how much further I must go to reach my potential in the area of motherhood.</div><br /><div>I am in that small club of women who tally up good memory moments, not events or days. However, since they are few and far between, they mean a great deal to me. I think of them as the tender mercies of the Lord- if it were not for these small (but very significant) mercies, I would have given up hope long ago.</div><br /><div>One of these events happened yesterday. For a while now, Keith and I have been wondering justhow deep Eric's spirit is buried under his emotional disorders. In the last 6 months he has shown little contrition for his hurtful and damaging behavior towards his family members. Almost as though he has no conscience. It is something that has topped the worry chart in my mind for many months. Yesterday, some things happened that brought me feeling lower than I have in a while- I won't go into details, but I could feel our little family just being pummeled by Satan's power. I was talking out loud to myself (yes, I admit freely to my own insanity), and wondering why Satan was trying so hard to rip my family apart. Eric heard me, and asked me what I meant. I gave him a very brief explanation, and a couple minutes later, I heard him ask me to remind him how to start a prayer. All was quiet for about a minute and a half, and then I heard him asking me how to end a prayer. He came out of my bedroom and told me that he had prayed that Satan would stop trying to hurt our family. To my knowledge, he has never said a prayer on his own before. I know this was the Lord letting me know that yes, my child has a spirit, and a conscience, even if it rarely surfaces. </div><br /><div>So, anyway, with one less worry on my mind, I can jump to a much lesser one: how to get Madeleine to go back to school!</div><br /><div>I'll save that story for another post.</div><br /><div></div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-78033093654217599322008-10-13T16:36:00.000-07:002008-10-13T16:39:02.409-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_H8MPZ1o3Q3y5sMOApxKb3hIKRDK6TK9X3eE7oNfEvEh72NdD-DN4D3SWGoa_N_tnpXAiDW5Tdb6ynYxNDj3-dY58MJo-wf7EODJkIOywIe0nddmcJtNvYnC-ivZ1dulmBAHU6Q/s1600-h/blue+walking.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256787015428388386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_H8MPZ1o3Q3y5sMOApxKb3hIKRDK6TK9X3eE7oNfEvEh72NdD-DN4D3SWGoa_N_tnpXAiDW5Tdb6ynYxNDj3-dY58MJo-wf7EODJkIOywIe0nddmcJtNvYnC-ivZ1dulmBAHU6Q/s320/blue+walking.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's been a while! Just testing to see if I can still figure out this blog thing!</div><div>Keith will kill me, but I'm to preggo to sit on the horse!</div>still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29779787.post-1159906516903020232006-10-03T13:08:00.000-07:002006-10-03T13:15:16.910-07:00The Two Angels<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/70574063@N00/260039999/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/85/260039999_a27cadbdd4_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/70574063@N00/260039999/">The Two Angels</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/70574063@N00/">ckschempp</a>. </span></div>Isn't my husband nice? Took the picture AND labeled it! I'm looking old- must be the dry climate. Luckily I have my sense of humor to keep me feeling young! Is there a hair color out there that will let me look just like my dog?<br clear="all" />still figgurin'http://www.blogger.com/profile/18273299286457804834noreply@blogger.com3