<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548</id><updated>2012-01-14T17:49:18.959-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stott Family Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Krista</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02771149063007579183</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KA9Q2HaW5lk/SPKAjj0pKNI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/sAlwAvjMICQ/S220/IMG_1474.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>127</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-145658295351068994</id><published>2011-11-27T19:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T19:25:44.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Church Bells</title><content type='html'>Sorry we've been MIA this past couple of weeks....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We have now been homeowners for 9 days.  Woo hoo!  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You can hear church bells chime from our house.  They're so pretty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We're 90% done with the painting.  So far we've painted the dining room, living room, most the hallway and the 3 bedrooms.  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why yes, I AM tired...&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My fingernails will never ever ever be paint free again, my skin  looks and feels like sandpaper from paint exposure, being scrubbed clean  &amp;amp; more paint exposure.  You'd think I'd learn to wear gloves or  something....&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Did you know that Home Depot carries Martha Stewart paint?  I  didn't want to love it.  I really didn't.  But oh that Martha!  Every  color was perfection! &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I had Ella take a bunch of pictures of our finished painting, but  then I left the camera hanging in the coat closet.  You know, cause I'm  awesome like that...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Colby pulled up the carpet in the 3 bedrooms and the floor is  BEAUTIFUL!!!  I don't think it's ever been exposed.  I'm giddy, I'm so  excited.  I think we just need to maybe put a coat of something on it.   SO AWESOME.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;WE HAVE A NEW WASHER AND DRIER!!!!  We got it at the  Pre-Black-Friday sale.  It stacks.  It chimes.  It washes clothes  without leaving lint behind (curses apartment laundromat!  I scorn you!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We bought a fridge off craigs list, so hopefully this week we'll  also HAVE A NEW FRIDGE WITH AN ICEMAKER!  HOORAY!  (I never believe in a  craigslist purchase until I actually have the item in my hands.  But  still, kind of excited!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We also have a new baby niece!  Lucy Marie is awesome and tiny and  we hope she starts to sleep more so that Auntie Amber can remember what  more than 3 hours of sleep at a time is like.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gretchen likes to "pet the baby".&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cousin Kate doesn't want you to hold the baby if you're her mom.   She started crying, broken hearted while her mom held Lucy, "I TRUSTED  YOU!!!"  (Meghan, she trusted you!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;p&gt;I think that's about it for now.  My head has been spinning with all  the things to do, get done, work projects coming up, Christmas, Ack.   But it's all good.  All good, my friends.  And I'm going to bed at 8:30  tonight.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-145658295351068994?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/145658295351068994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=145658295351068994' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/145658295351068994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/145658295351068994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/11/church-bells.html' title='Church Bells'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-528341416031127890</id><published>2011-10-30T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T14:18:08.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In the spirit of the season...</title><content type='html'>I love Halloween.  Seriously love it.  Gretchen is right there with me (she says she likes "scary things".  You know, unless they're too scary.)  And like every year, we've not got a ridiculously thorough collection of pumpkins and have been to the pumpkin patch more than our fair share.  So for our Family Night last Monday we went again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen amidst the pumpkins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KtWlPQVFT3I/Tq24gSYcRxI/AAAAAAAABuw/bejcZ4FQGFU/s1600/42-GretchenAmidstPumpkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KtWlPQVFT3I/Tq24gSYcRxI/AAAAAAAABuw/bejcZ4FQGFU/s320/42-GretchenAmidstPumpkins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390370759001874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9aWlxH9-luw/Tq24gzt8cjI/AAAAAAAABvA/5kFJSt1za8M/s1600/41-EllaOnTractor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9aWlxH9-luw/Tq24gzt8cjI/AAAAAAAABvA/5kFJSt1za8M/s320/41-EllaOnTractor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390379707560498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nUtOeI9RYU/Tq24gaE4oCI/AAAAAAAABug/ZYMUSdK6ax8/s1600/43-GretchenOnTractor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1nUtOeI9RYU/Tq24gaE4oCI/AAAAAAAABug/ZYMUSdK6ax8/s320/43-GretchenOnTractor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390372824457250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were at the 'patch, we saw some friends and I had them take a picture of me &amp;amp; Colby.  I think, not counting our wedding pictures, we now have about five pictures of just the two of us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--LoiXpEGLOo/Tq24gFslnJI/AAAAAAAABuY/ohpiSpHfQ2U/s1600/44-ColbyAndApryl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--LoiXpEGLOo/Tq24gFslnJI/AAAAAAAABuY/ohpiSpHfQ2U/s320/44-ColbyAndApryl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390367353838738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_5gA9NHP8Uk/Tq24RGXvI2I/AAAAAAAABuA/K9-4am9Oq80/s1600/45-PumpkinWagon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_5gA9NHP8Uk/Tq24RGXvI2I/AAAAAAAABuA/K9-4am9Oq80/s320/45-PumpkinWagon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390109836780386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U3y4ztoE62s/Tq24RL_e1VI/AAAAAAAABtw/PwaOJoaU-NI/s1600/46-EllaLookingAtAnimals.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U3y4ztoE62s/Tq24RL_e1VI/AAAAAAAABtw/PwaOJoaU-NI/s320/46-EllaLookingAtAnimals.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390111345661266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love visiting the piggies.  But we knew better than to attempt the corn maze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-82yZpJ3savY/Tq24Q8RBXXI/AAAAAAAABto/8F16zhlqkmQ/s1600/47-AdmiringPigs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-82yZpJ3savY/Tq24Q8RBXXI/AAAAAAAABto/8F16zhlqkmQ/s320/47-AdmiringPigs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390107124260210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to know what's awesome about Reno?  I mean besides the fact that we can go almost anywhere in town and see friends there (Home Depot, Target, Pumpkin Patch, etc.)  NEVADA DAY!!!!  Nevada Day is when we celebrate the awesomeness that is our state (Remember, only in Nevada can you do your grocery shopping AND your gambling in one location!) and we celebrate Nevada Day by closing the schools and work.  If you're lucky, your friends will have a birthday party and you'll get to go bowling for the first time.  And if you're really lucky, they'll have toddle sized bowling shoes.  OMG TODDLER SIZED BOWLING SHOES!  SWOON!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nu9O9zonWVY/Tq24Qv88nCI/AAAAAAAABtc/tu2NuSg3dYo/s1600/48-BowlingKids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Nu9O9zonWVY/Tq24Qv88nCI/AAAAAAAABtc/tu2NuSg3dYo/s320/48-BowlingKids.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669390103818837026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QPDNPEJTtic/Tq2396pG9fI/AAAAAAAABtM/ezsJ4t9JhUg/s1600/49-BowlingChic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QPDNPEJTtic/Tq2396pG9fI/AAAAAAAABtM/ezsJ4t9JhUg/s320/49-BowlingChic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669389780270904818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PDSZscuvD8U/Tq239uJhG0I/AAAAAAAABtE/0RHbmp7ZzAs/s1600/50-ShesGotThis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PDSZscuvD8U/Tq239uJhG0I/AAAAAAAABtE/0RHbmp7ZzAs/s320/50-ShesGotThis.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669389776917175106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we're hopefully closing on the new house in 3 weeks, I'm trying to get a jump on everything Christmas.  So this afternoon we had our annual Christmas Ornament Photo Shoot.  It started off with a bang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MJISxxaFY_A/Tq239T-8m3I/AAAAAAAABs4/B-gH6Gva_zo/s1600/51-ChristmasTake1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MJISxxaFY_A/Tq239T-8m3I/AAAAAAAABs4/B-gH6Gva_zo/s320/51-ChristmasTake1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669389769893518194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EVIL EYE.  Big sisters.  Humph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8lEhOUYiy4/Tq239HQcAQI/AAAAAAAABso/Ldnj4S8syW8/s1600/52-ChristmasTake2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y8lEhOUYiy4/Tq239HQcAQI/AAAAAAAABso/Ldnj4S8syW8/s320/52-ChristmasTake2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669389766477218050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, like all our photo shoots, if you take enough pictures, maybe ONE will turn out great.  I think this one's it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yA_ovF8wBCs/Tq239JG7MFI/AAAAAAAABsg/JoV36SpG0f4/s1600/53-ChristmasTake3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yA_ovF8wBCs/Tq239JG7MFI/AAAAAAAABsg/JoV36SpG0f4/s320/53-ChristmasTake3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669389766974189650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll photoshop out the background so you can't tell it was taken in front of our tv "backdrop".  (Last year I had to explain to my friends at the Costco Photo Center that I didn't have a photo release for the portraits because they were TAKEN IN FRONT OF THE TV.  They didn't believe me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I know this is a long post this week, but I'm almost done.  2 thing to tell you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  We won the class pumpkin contest!  R2D2 beat out the impressive Angry Birds display (which really, I feel a little bit guilty about.  I secretly think theirs was better... But theirs didn't have the sound effects...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  We helped clean the church yesterday morning.  Gretchen &amp;amp; Ella were with a lovely older child who was helping them clean all the chalkboards.  They finished that &amp;amp; then played in the nursery.  Just as I finished up the bathroom, I found a surprise.  The shredded paper had been emptied from the church clerk's office, and it filled a whole garbage can.  Gretchen discovered it first and decided to "decorate for a party".  There was shredded paper DOWN THE WHOLE HALLWAY.  And a giant pile in the nursery.  Where she'd dumped it and then thrown handfuls in the air.  And danced in it.  It was everywhere, even her hair.  But luckily it vacuumed up pretty quick (Though there were some tears.  She didn't understand why we couldn't just leave her party decorations there....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a wonderful Halloween!!!&lt;br /&gt;And we love you Grandpa Conrad!  Ella's been carrying around the little teddy bear he gave her since Friday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-528341416031127890?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/528341416031127890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=528341416031127890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/528341416031127890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/528341416031127890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/10/in-spirit-of-season.html' title='In the spirit of the season...'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KtWlPQVFT3I/Tq24gSYcRxI/AAAAAAAABuw/bejcZ4FQGFU/s72-c/42-GretchenAmidstPumpkins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-3190970448036265165</id><published>2011-10-23T21:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T21:25:17.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoa.</title><content type='html'>Sooner than any of us expected, sooner than I thought possible, so soon  that I'm freaking out.  FREAKING.  OUT....we will be moving from this  view.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IqI86lho8uk/TqTh5RJRc2I/AAAAAAAABsU/-DJMufpfDI0/s1600/21%253DApar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IqI86lho8uk/TqTh5RJRc2I/AAAAAAAABsU/-DJMufpfDI0/s320/21%253DApar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902605110014818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(don't be jealous... graffiti compliments of the Window Crayons I got on sale at Target)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....to this view:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YtnSqRz9QC0/TqTh5AIVp_I/AAAAAAAABsI/twCKxqqHsgY/s1600/22-Backyard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YtnSqRz9QC0/TqTh5AIVp_I/AAAAAAAABsI/twCKxqqHsgY/s320/22-Backyard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902600542693362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes my friends, that there is our own backyard.  Our own swath of grass,  watered with our own set of real sprinklers.  Welcome to what hopefully  will be our new home in approx. 4 weeks.  Unless I freak out about it  again and Colby calls the whole thing off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Mom, you may not want to look at these pictures.  It might just stress you out.  We'll just show you all the "after" ones....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you walk in the front door, you'll see the beautiful foyer. &lt;br /&gt;THINGS THAT WILL STAY:  Awesome light fixture.  Awesome tile.  Awesome door.&lt;br /&gt;THINGS THAT WILL CHANGE:  Fort Knox style iron work over all doors and  windows, green carpet, amber glass in door.  (Hey Angela &amp;amp; Amber,  want to help me replace that glass with something lovely?  Any ideas?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aFLD77n6XaY/TqTh4_rIfJI/AAAAAAAABr8/Hf4glslkr7k/s1600/23-Foyer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aFLD77n6XaY/TqTh4_rIfJI/AAAAAAAABr8/Hf4glslkr7k/s320/23-Foyer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902600420195474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the first room we'll welcome you in to.  Take a seat in our BRAND NEW LIVING ROOM!!!&lt;br /&gt;THINGS THAT WILL STAY:  Fabulous speakers (to compliment our ridiculously huge tv, white walls&lt;br /&gt;THINGS THAT WILL GO:  Wood paneling (it's kind of thin and cheap,  otherwise I would totally keep it), carpet (wood floors under there,  people!!!) and possibly the white fireplace color.  Any ideas?  Any  suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wf2Ph_6GsSQ/TqTh4sFXczI/AAAAAAAABrw/JRQZuJHtf8g/s1600/24-LivingRoomFireplace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wf2Ph_6GsSQ/TqTh4sFXczI/AAAAAAAABrw/JRQZuJHtf8g/s320/24-LivingRoomFireplace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902595161518898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come in!  Come in!  Here's another view of the living room.&lt;br /&gt;(I'm seriously considering keeping the window treatment.  Cause that is fantastic.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a27HiI7zINM/TqThtMVsuQI/AAAAAAAABrY/ZnkMdmB7R8s/s1600/25-WindowTreatment.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a27HiI7zINM/TqThtMVsuQI/AAAAAAAABrY/ZnkMdmB7R8s/s320/25-WindowTreatment.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902397661526274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, does your dining room have a WINDOW SEAT????  Yes, yes it does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6IMzf149XvA/TqThskZOHwI/AAAAAAAABrQ/foQR5HhH9gI/s1600/26-WindowSeat%2521.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6IMzf149XvA/TqThskZOHwI/AAAAAAAABrQ/foQR5HhH9gI/s320/26-WindowSeat%2521.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902386938879746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the girls room.  I love the wallpaper, but I think we're going to  repaint.  I'll keep the cute shutter window covering, but take out the  other one.  I really like that light fixture.  I think I'll keep it  too.  The floors will hopefully be restored to the hardwood that lies in  wait under the carpet.  (Ella is fighting to keep the teal carpet.   Anyone on her side?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G8Qix-UGdx0/TqThsav_ZUI/AAAAAAAABq8/ceULpqNa1Q8/s1600/27-GirlsRoom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G8Qix-UGdx0/TqThsav_ZUI/AAAAAAAABq8/ceULpqNa1Q8/s320/27-GirlsRoom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902384350029122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And her is (dum Dum DUM) MY OFFICE!!!!  For the first time EVER EVER  EVER I will have my own space to work in!  No more  bedroom/livingroom/office for me!  Woo hoo!!!!  And yes, I WILL be  keeping that flocked wallpaper, decorative eagle over the closet and the  shelves thankyouverymuch.  I'm afraid the amber window covering is  falling apart, so it will have to go.  (sniff).  Carpet will also be  removed to make way for wood floors here too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h04b4OFsDcQ/TqThsXFyZLI/AAAAAAAABq0/3rcYsEHM18E/s1600/28-Office.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h04b4OFsDcQ/TqThsXFyZLI/AAAAAAAABq0/3rcYsEHM18E/s320/28-Office.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902383367709874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the kitchen....  Can you guess what year it was remodeled?  Go ahead, guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XhyQrxqLWxA/TqThfCXbXmI/AAAAAAAABqo/VPhp90on26g/s1600/29-Kitchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XhyQrxqLWxA/TqThfCXbXmI/AAAAAAAABqo/VPhp90on26g/s320/29-Kitchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902154466254434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the piece de resistance.... OUR ONLY SLIGHTLY CREEPY  BASEMENT!!!!  It doesn't have any windows, but who needs windows when  you have a FULL SIZE FIREPLACE!!!!  At the brilliant suggestion of  Angela &amp;amp; Lismarie, I think we're going to install a sola tube  through the kitchen down to the basement to get some natural light in  the space.  Off the basement is an additional storage room.  That's  where YOU'LL be sleeping when you come visit.  You're welcome.  Perfect  for all your makeout-party needs (right Adrianne?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uu5mFfODvfw/TqThe0rjChI/AAAAAAAABqc/MiKB3a8egQs/s1600/30-OnlySlightlyScaryBasement.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uu5mFfODvfw/TqThe0rjChI/AAAAAAAABqc/MiKB3a8egQs/s320/30-OnlySlightlyScaryBasement.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902150792546834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah.  Freak out, so excited, cutest house on cutest street, in such  good condition, adorable and wonderful, loveitloveitloveit, wait, what  are we doing?  This is all happening so fast!  AHHHHHHHH.  (And repeat.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now we're going to stop that fun little thought train and show you  these OMG SO CUTE cakes that we made for the Harvest Fest Cake Walk.   Fabulous Julie gave me a huge bag of leftover supplies to decorate them  with.  SO FUN, right?  (That's a spider, by the way.  What, you can't  tell?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ED8wIlPPL8Y/TqThee5-N5I/AAAAAAAABqU/bceFFBETXKo/s1600/31-CakeWalkHalloweenCakes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ED8wIlPPL8Y/TqThee5-N5I/AAAAAAAABqU/bceFFBETXKo/s320/31-CakeWalkHalloweenCakes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902144947468178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also carved an R2D2 pumkin with Ella's class.  You can't tell in this  picture, but it has lights in it and a Star Wars soundtrack playing  behind it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TkC0aRjs8X4/TqTheS9TLfI/AAAAAAAABqA/N6oj6ETqWXY/s1600/32-R2D2Pumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TkC0aRjs8X4/TqTheS9TLfI/AAAAAAAABqA/N6oj6ETqWXY/s320/32-R2D2Pumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902141740199410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Harvest Fest was SO FUN.  There were lamas, people.  LAMAS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zXXPZTb1zRU/TqThePPcavI/AAAAAAAABp4/CIrTLsmOyXs/s1600/33-IsYoMamaALama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zXXPZTb1zRU/TqThePPcavI/AAAAAAAABp4/CIrTLsmOyXs/s320/33-IsYoMamaALama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666902140742560498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what we're up to.  (insert another random freakout here.)  What are your plans for the week?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-3190970448036265165?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/3190970448036265165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=3190970448036265165' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/3190970448036265165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/3190970448036265165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/10/whoa.html' title='Whoa.'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IqI86lho8uk/TqTh5RJRc2I/AAAAAAAABsU/-DJMufpfDI0/s72-c/21%253DApar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-437650663688373548</id><published>2011-10-09T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T19:38:29.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Newish Things</title><content type='html'>Turns out if you dare Ella to take a crazy picture showing her snaggle tooth, she'll oblige. But only if she can also do the patented Ella-Crazy-Eyes.  And guess what.  SNAGGLE TOOTH IS GONE!   Peace out, snaggle tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6h8AxkJl0s/TpJX1bTd5bI/AAAAAAAABpo/sI4AW9rdPSo/s1600/1-EllaSnaggleTooth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6h8AxkJl0s/TpJX1bTd5bI/AAAAAAAABpo/sI4AW9rdPSo/s320/1-EllaSnaggleTooth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661684256932226482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FASHION ALERT!!!&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen has bangs!  I think I forgot to tell you that.  She wanted me to cut her hair "short like a boy", but I just.  couldn't.  do it.  So bangs were our compromise.  (Amy Smith, oldest friend, dear friend, I remember an angsty teenage conversation that we should never cut our daughter's hair like a boy.  I remember!)  For weeks before the bang conversion, she was in a super tom-boy phase.  But now she's busting out the white princess dress and pink heart glasses.  On a THURSDAY!  So life is sparkles and makeup again!  (Colby had to confiscate the Hello Kitty glitter lip gloss from her bed this week.  Yeah, we don't know what it's like to live in moderation.  We're either demanding to be called "Buddy" and dressing in all camo, or sleeping in jewelry and putting on our "bedtime lip gloss".) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen wants what Gretchen wants.  Come on, you should know that by NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jJQEed_RLas/TpJX1kIjNrI/AAAAAAAABpw/TX1K6h3bkUg/s1600/2-GretchenHighFashion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jJQEed_RLas/TpJX1kIjNrI/AAAAAAAABpw/TX1K6h3bkUg/s320/2-GretchenHighFashion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661684259302356658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to see Grandma Anita &amp;amp; Grandpa Dennis on Friday, along with GGpa and GAunt Belva.  We had a pizza party to celebrate.  Awesome times, my friends.  And no matter how much complaining you hear, you should ALWAYS make a BBQ Chicken Pizza.  Cause dude, that is good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are you up to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-437650663688373548?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/437650663688373548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=437650663688373548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/437650663688373548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/437650663688373548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/10/newish-things.html' title='Newish Things'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6h8AxkJl0s/TpJX1bTd5bI/AAAAAAAABpo/sI4AW9rdPSo/s72-c/1-EllaSnaggleTooth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-793491715335875482</id><published>2011-10-02T18:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T18:56:36.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Don't Know Everything!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"You don't know everything..... (pause)....only Jesus does."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what Gretchen's new favorite saying is.  So far she's told that  to (as far as I know), me, her Dad, her beloved Auntie Meghan, the  primary presidency and her preschool teacher.  That I know of.  For all I  know, there's more victims.  That's my girl, spreading the good news of  the Gospel one little attitude at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of our Sweet Little Missionary posing in the cape we  made for her friend's birthday.  It was a Super Hero Party, and his mom  said he didn't have a cape.  So we were happy to oblige....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QrhCzzPOKAo/TokNmgOGWJI/AAAAAAAABpg/IjlX-lNAci0/s1600/10-CooperCape.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 162px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QrhCzzPOKAo/TokNmgOGWJI/AAAAAAAABpg/IjlX-lNAci0/s320/10-CooperCape.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659069361902999698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TA DA!!!!  (Note the awesome bed head, Belle Princess pj's and double fisted pickles.  The word you're looking for is "CLASSY".)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VRAx_C-c55w/TokNmiSA4DI/AAAAAAAABpY/wk0hd3VSz5U/s1600/11-TheGretch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VRAx_C-c55w/TokNmiSA4DI/AAAAAAAABpY/wk0hd3VSz5U/s320/11-TheGretch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659069362456289330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to our wonderful, sweet, darling Ella!  You'll notice  that she's not showing her teeth in any pictures this week.  Yes, the  tooth drama continues.  I've tried in vain to get a shot of her snaggle  tooth, hanging SIDEWAYS in the front of her mouth, but she's too fast.   The other teeth are already coming in behind it, so it's making it  especially hard to wiggle now.  I told her that if she doesn't get it  out in the next 20 minutes, we're pulling it out.  I've HAD IT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Tuesday (Birthday Day) I was a lot nicer.  We celebrated her  birthday by going to Red Robin (her request).  It was pretty low key  because the Saturday before we'd hosted a Tie Dye Birthday Extravaganza  for her and 14 of her closest friends.  Did you hear that?  We did  tie-dye with about 16 small children.  Oh, and yes, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AM&lt;/span&gt;  crazy.  But it was mostly super fun, and everything we dyed turned out  so so pretty!  Just in case you were wondering, we also...&lt;br /&gt;-Played "Pick Pocket Tag" (google it, I'm too lazy to explain it...)&lt;br /&gt;-Had a "Freeze Dance Off" (everyone won)&lt;br /&gt;-Had a Dress-Up-Relay-Race (Every kid pulled a costume or accessory out  of a bag and had to do a loop around the yard with it.  My favorite were  the Mohawk wigs and the high heels)&lt;br /&gt;-Busted open our home-made pinata of a happy yellow star and....&lt;br /&gt;-Took NO PICTURES OR VIDEO because I was too busy being crazy party hostess the whole time.  SO SAD NOW!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least I got this little gem before Tuesday Birthday Hamburgers.  Awwww...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EfHTimaLIW8/TokNme5fJSI/AAAAAAAABpQ/Jp433KXvOJk/s1600/12-BirthdayGirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EfHTimaLIW8/TokNme5fJSI/AAAAAAAABpQ/Jp433KXvOJk/s320/12-BirthdayGirl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659069361548109090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this one too....  AaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwWWWWW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzIPqg_5TDM/TokNmIeij5I/AAAAAAAABpI/4jlv7330l1E/s1600/13-AdoringLooks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzIPqg_5TDM/TokNmIeij5I/AAAAAAAABpI/4jlv7330l1E/s320/13-AdoringLooks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659069355529506706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't have any more cute pics of Ella on her birthday because she  thinks it's funny to make faces like this.  Awww, come on!  (I'm not  sure if you can see the mocking in her eyes.  "Take of picture of me  with my face like this.  Come on mom!!!")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVc5-IyawXc/TokNl96hanI/AAAAAAAABpA/QEbI60W3Oz8/s1600/14-CrazyFace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVc5-IyawXc/TokNl96hanI/AAAAAAAABpA/QEbI60W3Oz8/s320/14-CrazyFace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659069352694082162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She really is sweet though.  Instead of saying "What?  That's it?" when  she ripped through her 3 presents in 5 seconds, instead she said, "Wow!   That didn't take me long!  I'm really good at opening presents fast!"   And instead of saying, "What?  You got me checkers and a DSI MATH GAME?   For real?"  She said, "Wow!  I can use this to practice for Game  Club!"  and "Can I play the math game now?  Or is it time for bed?"  Oh  sweet girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's up with you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-793491715335875482?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/793491715335875482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=793491715335875482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/793491715335875482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/793491715335875482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/10/you-dont-know-everything.html' title='You Don&apos;t Know Everything!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QrhCzzPOKAo/TokNmgOGWJI/AAAAAAAABpg/IjlX-lNAci0/s72-c/10-CooperCape.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-8921544098731379690</id><published>2011-09-11T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T19:48:43.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome Boots and Shelter Cats</title><content type='html'>Since school has started, Gretchen and I have been having a lot of morning adventures.  One sunny Monday Gretchen dressed herself in an awesome patriotic outfit and we went to see the sad, sad cats at the Humane Society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rfoe25fN7a8/Tm1uIe4ohbI/AAAAAAAABo4/O_rVmfrsgr0/s1600/CrabbyCatsWhiteBoots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rfoe25fN7a8/Tm1uIe4ohbI/AAAAAAAABo4/O_rVmfrsgr0/s320/CrabbyCatsWhiteBoots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651294199428449714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These boots were made for walking through the geriatric cat room.  Yeah, it smells funky!  So what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We visited the dogs too.  They were loud.  It made it easier to leave them at the Humane Society.  (If even your crazy loud three year old is overwhelmed by a dog's volume, that is one LOUD DOG.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AUZ69HEEfQE/Tm1uIeTPyoI/AAAAAAAABow/DSq6jxMBJZQ/s1600/LookingAtChihuahuas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AUZ69HEEfQE/Tm1uIeTPyoI/AAAAAAAABow/DSq6jxMBJZQ/s320/LookingAtChihuahuas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651294199271639682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROCKY!  BE QUIET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, lets quit yelling at Loud Rocky the Chihuahu and hang like monkeys from this random bar.  Ok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cg1h9hN2Yg4/Tm1uIPNbWhI/AAAAAAAABoo/1Vw5MuDJfRw/s1600/MonkeyBars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cg1h9hN2Yg4/Tm1uIPNbWhI/AAAAAAAABoo/1Vw5MuDJfRw/s320/MonkeyBars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651294195220699666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not every morning is free now.  Gretchen had her first week of preschool.  It's at Mrs. G's house and it is SO FUN!  They have a circle rug and cubbies for their backpacks and tables with their seats labeled.  It's very official.  Gretchen approves.  To celebrate, she wore her "Linus Hates Reno" t-shirt.  (She likes to keep you guessing.  Wait, does she like me?  Does she not like me?  Is she going to leave a mark?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LwRwAe5HRVs/Tm1jnbLvKoI/AAAAAAAABoQ/5bK0TL1x6h4/s1600/1-FirstDayofPreschool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LwRwAe5HRVs/Tm1jnbLvKoI/AAAAAAAABoQ/5bK0TL1x6h4/s320/1-FirstDayofPreschool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651282636382874242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we met our friend at the Coconut Bowl.  A whole cheese pizza to ourselves and a 3-story play area to play hide &amp;amp; seek in?  Yes please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k7gN4cOdZOw/Tm1jnN-7xEI/AAAAAAAABoI/oaX7qj9NJeQ/s1600/2-CoconutBowlIsAwesome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k7gN4cOdZOw/Tm1jnN-7xEI/AAAAAAAABoI/oaX7qj9NJeQ/s320/2-CoconutBowlIsAwesome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651282632839513154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday, after Girl Scouts, we drove up to our friend's campsite at Donner Lake to have a barbeque and campfire.  It was everything good about camping without having to, you know, actually camp.  It is ah-mazing how dirty four children can get in less than 20 minutes.  But so pretty.  Look at these little angels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eouNVrPCyak/Tm1jm0pa0cI/AAAAAAAABoA/mhS6olJG3ho/s1600/3-CampingAngels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eouNVrPCyak/Tm1jm0pa0cI/AAAAAAAABoA/mhS6olJG3ho/s320/3-CampingAngels.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651282626038387138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WRe-Jo_52iI/Tm1jm5_J0YI/AAAAAAAABn4/MQCHzNHJHDY/s1600/4-CampingAngel%2526Mom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WRe-Jo_52iI/Tm1jm5_J0YI/AAAAAAAABn4/MQCHzNHJHDY/s320/4-CampingAngel%2526Mom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651282627471724930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hl5T6wgAis8/Tm1jmp0k30I/AAAAAAAABnw/aFFtwg5P0YE/s1600/5-EllaCampPosing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hl5T6wgAis8/Tm1jmp0k30I/AAAAAAAABnw/aFFtwg5P0YE/s320/5-EllaCampPosing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651282623132393282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CRAFTING NEWS:  I had a sewing day with my friend Shawna &amp;amp; we made lovely pennant  banners.  I am so in love with them.  I hung them in the girls room.   LOVE.  Ella is not quite as impressed.  She just wants to chill on her  bed and read her book (she is SO my daughter!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KMnFTy3Ce1s/Tm1uH5fDDcI/AAAAAAAABoY/RJ0FmXJg7Yg/s1600/Ella%2Bin%2BRoom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KMnFTy3Ce1s/Tm1uH5fDDcI/AAAAAAAABoY/RJ0FmXJg7Yg/s320/Ella%2Bin%2BRoom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651294189389024706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Ella's tooth has been hanging.  HANGING.  for the past three weeks.   She won't let us near it.  Remember last time?  Yeah, this child does  not like change.  Or wiggling her teeth.  Finally tonight we got her to  work on it a little.  I told her that if she doesn't yank it out by  tomorrow night, that's what we'll be doing for our Family Home Evening  Activity.  "Tonight we're going to learn about PLIERS!  Yay!"  I'll update you next week on our progress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-auVqDRwN-8k/Tm1uIBYyBZI/AAAAAAAABog/h1qIR-lgl1c/s1600/EllaLooseTooth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-auVqDRwN-8k/Tm1uIBYyBZI/AAAAAAAABog/h1qIR-lgl1c/s320/EllaLooseTooth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651294191510226322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-8921544098731379690?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/8921544098731379690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=8921544098731379690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8921544098731379690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8921544098731379690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/09/awesome-boots-and-shelter-cats.html' title='Awesome Boots and Shelter Cats'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rfoe25fN7a8/Tm1uIe4ohbI/AAAAAAAABo4/O_rVmfrsgr0/s72-c/CrabbyCatsWhiteBoots.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4458697404645855479</id><published>2011-08-28T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T19:24:17.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You'll Be Sad!!!</title><content type='html'>I have three things to share today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. &lt;/span&gt;  This week Gretchen got really mad at me.  I think I made her sit still  so I could brush her hair, or some unforgivable like that.  She was  furious as only a 3 year old can be.  She thought of the worst, most  hateful thing she could say to me to convey her emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gretchen:&lt;/span&gt;  When I grow up I'm going to move out and get MY OWN HOUSE and MY OWN CAR, and I won't live with you AND YOU WILL BE SAD!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Not quite overcome by horror as she expected)&lt;/span&gt;  That's right, sweetie.  That's what happens when you grow up.  You move  into your own house and get your own car.  You can get married and have  your own family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gretchen:  &lt;/span&gt;And Ella can have her out house and her own family too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  Yes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gretchen:&lt;/span&gt;  And you can come over and visit me at my house?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt; Sure, that would be so fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Anger forgotten.  Hair brushed.  Drama over.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.&lt;/span&gt;   When we went to the $1 store, I let Gretchen pick out anything she  wanted from the whole store.  Anything.  What did she pick out?  Wound  tattoos.  Fake tattoos of scabs, stitches, pencils through your thigh,  nails piercing your flesh, etc.  When we got home I gave her a wet  washcloth and she happily applied horrific flesh wounds to her entire  body.  "I want this one on my neck!"  (I stopped the face tattoo.  But  she did have a huge hickey on her neck all week...)  Later that day I  asked if she'd like to wear tattoos like that for Halloween.  She said,  "Yes!  I can be a zombie princess!!!"  I was super excited about that  idea!  But then she decided to be Jesse from Toy Story.  So instead of  this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VPDlwaI44pc/Tlrz9Q7d3GI/AAAAAAAABng/0oz9Wxs4XnI/s1600/ZombieBelle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VPDlwaI44pc/Tlrz9Q7d3GI/AAAAAAAABng/0oz9Wxs4XnI/s320/ZombieBelle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646093316704296034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll have this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MhuW4bvvzp4/Tlrz9rcWZzI/AAAAAAAABno/4O3sECZYYEU/s1600/JesseToyStory.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MhuW4bvvzp4/Tlrz9rcWZzI/AAAAAAAABno/4O3sECZYYEU/s320/JesseToyStory.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646093323821541170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se  la vie.  (I'm kind of sad about it.  I was really excited about making a  zombie princess costume.  Come on, how awesome would that be?  Sigh...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. &lt;/span&gt;  Ella and Gretchen both swam without floaties this week!  It took a lot  of peer pressure (mostly seeing a little kid 1/2 their size doing it.   Then they realized that having your feet off the bottom of the pool does  NOT result in immediate death.)  Hooray for the girls!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella  was home the last 1/2 of the week with an ear infection.  Let's just say  that I'm REALLY HAPPY she's feeling better, and that I am so so SO  thankful for a school with nice teachers that make learning fun.   Because dude, I do not make learning fun.  Colby had to step in at one  point when we were working on her packet of missed work.  "You're  driving your mom crazy right now, so I'm going to help you now..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what happened this week.  What about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4458697404645855479?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4458697404645855479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4458697404645855479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4458697404645855479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4458697404645855479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/08/youll-be-sad.html' title='You&apos;ll Be Sad!!!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VPDlwaI44pc/Tlrz9Q7d3GI/AAAAAAAABng/0oz9Wxs4XnI/s72-c/ZombieBelle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-163471818564425357</id><published>2011-07-11T10:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-22T08:10:05.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Art Show and Summer's Close</title><content type='html'>The girls entered their first art show in July.  It was part of Art  Town's festival, hosted by their awesome dance studio.  It's all about  presentation.  To make it like a real gallery show, we included  descriptions on their info cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“My Favorite Pet; Invisible Friend at Dusk”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;By Elisabeth &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Age 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Created during the artist’s Purple  Period, “Invisible Friend at Dusk” is an homage to Van Gogh’s “Starry  Night”.  The purple color adds a somber and thoughtful background,  contrasting with the whimsical “Invisible Friend”.  The image strikes a  delicate balance between dark and light, anchored at the top by an  impenetrable layer of clouds.  The crescent moon is a common theme in  many children’s paintings, and serves as a strong focal point.  When  asked why she choose this particular subject matter, the artist  responded, “Because I like it.”  We look forward to seeing more of Miss  Stott’s work.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgFDOshUM9g/TlJtxSSLRQI/AAAAAAAABnI/ngDQMJFFt10/s1600/1-EllaArtShow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgFDOshUM9g/TlJtxSSLRQI/AAAAAAAABnI/ngDQMJFFt10/s320/1-EllaArtShow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643693976537744642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“My Favorite Pet Frolics Under the Sun”&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Gretchen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Age 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When interviewed about this work, the  artist declared, “It’s a reflection of doggies.”  When asked to  clarify, she added, “It’s the girl.  It’s right there {artist indicates  towards lower right corner}.  She’s walking.  That’s her heart on her  stomach.  Because that’s her eye and her nose and her mouth and her dog.   We have noses too.”  Yes indeed, we do have noses.  And if we were to  walk under a yellow dripping sun, surrounded by primal red handprints,  perhaps we too would show our hearts on our stomachs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLG50WLtLyk/TlJtxDcNylI/AAAAAAAABnA/rJ9q2cEKiqI/s1600/2-GretchenPainting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLG50WLtLyk/TlJtxDcNylI/AAAAAAAABnA/rJ9q2cEKiqI/s320/2-GretchenPainting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643693972553321042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella with the Winner's Circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1MtlZaocIMM/TlJtxJAaL6I/AAAAAAAABm4/42RGnLQaCSk/s1600/3-ArtShowWinners.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1MtlZaocIMM/TlJtxJAaL6I/AAAAAAAABm4/42RGnLQaCSk/s320/3-ArtShowWinners.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643693974047305634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It worked.  Ella and Gretchen BOTH WON PRIZES.  To be fair, every kid  who entered won.  But Ella's painting was on the morning news!  Which I  did not wake up at 5am to watch because I was exhausted!  But I thought  about it!&lt;br /&gt;*Unfortunately Gretchen was sick &amp;amp; unable to make it to the event.  She got to stay at home with Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;**Please note Ella's awesome Art Show outfit.  Black beret bought special just for the event.&lt;br /&gt;***Just in case you didn't notice, the theme was "My Favorite Pet"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then school started ridiculously early.  Gretchen peers longingly through those doors, kindergarten is a magical land still TWO YEARS AWAY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sqcn0UVx_ZM/TlJtwxZs23I/AAAAAAAABmw/AdAYZfeM1dA/s1600/4-FirstDayofSchool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sqcn0UVx_ZM/TlJtwxZs23I/AAAAAAAABmw/AdAYZfeM1dA/s320/4-FirstDayofSchool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643693967710935922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes.  Two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i3SqT-YgrX0/TlJtwjIkCHI/AAAAAAAABmo/TmFujIu7XMU/s1600/5-SwingingAtThePark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i3SqT-YgrX0/TlJtwjIkCHI/AAAAAAAABmo/TmFujIu7XMU/s320/5-SwingingAtThePark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643693963880958066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I am crazy, I picked Ella up from school last week and drove up to Lake Tahoe.  It was our first trip to Sand Harbor of the summer (which is just a tragic shame!) and she'd already started school.  But there was so much snow in the mountains that the beaches are tiny!  The lake's water level is so high!  So we beat the crowds and had a late afternoon dinner picnic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iRBhKrkRVtM/TlHrN2M4b4I/AAAAAAAABmY/41TELjwUwUg/s1600/7-EllaLakeTahoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iRBhKrkRVtM/TlHrN2M4b4I/AAAAAAAABmY/41TELjwUwUg/s320/7-EllaLakeTahoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550431192313730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8Fy0gxz6Ow/TlHrNgiEpVI/AAAAAAAABmQ/GTFOio5yMyQ/s1600/8-GretchenLakeTahoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d8Fy0gxz6Ow/TlHrNgiEpVI/AAAAAAAABmQ/GTFOio5yMyQ/s320/8-GretchenLakeTahoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550425375614290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JS1OhB0vT_g/TlHrNicYiQI/AAAAAAAABmI/eCH3Bazm0Nw/s1600/9-GirlsLakeTahoe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JS1OhB0vT_g/TlHrNicYiQI/AAAAAAAABmI/eCH3Bazm0Nw/s320/9-GirlsLakeTahoe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550425888622850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auntie Adrianne sent us the most amazing package.  It was full of Sample Sale treats.  And since then, Gretchen and Ella have been very well accessorized.  At our trip to Costco last week, some guy said, "Wow, that baby doesn't need a bib!"  You know, because she was wearing that ginormous rhinestone necklace...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tqu6uLq-qQM/TlHrNRGbguI/AAAAAAAABmA/WVoKWE1ODos/s1600/10-GretchenNewOutfit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tqu6uLq-qQM/TlHrNRGbguI/AAAAAAAABmA/WVoKWE1ODos/s320/10-GretchenNewOutfit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550421233140450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - We love Uncle Ian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFXYzdK-qFw/TlHrN4FqK5I/AAAAAAAABmg/tc0ZJRKjtpY/s1600/6-HeartUncleIan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFXYzdK-qFw/TlHrN4FqK5I/AAAAAAAABmg/tc0ZJRKjtpY/s320/6-HeartUncleIan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643550431698889618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how is your summer ending?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-163471818564425357?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/163471818564425357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=163471818564425357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/163471818564425357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/163471818564425357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/07/art-show-and-summers-close.html' title='The Art Show and Summer&apos;s Close'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RgFDOshUM9g/TlJtxSSLRQI/AAAAAAAABnI/ngDQMJFFt10/s72-c/1-EllaArtShow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-2730117205448627023</id><published>2011-06-26T15:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T15:18:22.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>But for my lack of athletic ability, I would totally run full marathons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Question: &lt;/span&gt; How long do you think it took us to walk that 1/2 marathon yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a)  4 hours&lt;br /&gt;b)  2.5 hours&lt;br /&gt;c)  3 hours &amp;amp; 18 minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Answer:&lt;/span&gt;  It took us 3 hours + 18  minutes!!!  That's an average of 4 mph.  Yes, you could drive through  the Disneyland parking lot faster than that.  (But just barely.)  When  we signed up, Lismarie said she did it in 2.5 hours last year.  Then she  called me and said that she had accidentally but totally lied.  It was  3.5 hours.  So we changed our starting corral to the underachievers and  had SO MUCH FUN.  We actually went further than 13.1 miles.  We had to  walk about a mile to get to the starting line, and then to the ferry  terminal downtown after that.  But we finished faster than we were  expecting, and we still looked cute at the end.  In fact, while I was on  the phone with Colby after the race, Lismarie got picked up on by some  random dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Random Dude who may be slightly drunk at noon on a Saturday:&lt;/span&gt;  How far did you run today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lismarie:&lt;/span&gt;  Ummm, 13.1 miles. (We didn't run, but she didn't want to tell him that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Random Dude:&lt;/span&gt;  Whoa, you didn't do the whole thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lismarie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(avoiding eye contact)&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Random Dude:&lt;/span&gt;  (Eyes her up and down) Yeah, you don't need to run the whole thing.  You look gooooooooooood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lismarie: &lt;/span&gt; (throws up in her mouth)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this was my first race.  I never understood why people did these  things.  But it was SO FUN!!!  How can you not have fun when people keep  telling you how great you're doing.  There were about 10 sets of local  cheerleaders along the course cheering on from the sidelines.  (My  favorite were the 80's rocker cheerleaders and the zombie  cheerleaders).  Maybe that's what I need, to have people standing next  to me all day telling me how awesome I am.  Even if I'm just walking and  not running (preferably people wearing theme costumes).  Plus,  according to Gretchen, I got a "winning thing".  (Where is your Winning  Thing, mom?  Can I see your Winning Thing?  Why did you get a Winning  Thing?) Why indeed?  It's a participation medal that will look lovely on  Gretchen when she steals it to wear with her princess outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So go us.  The girls who spent way too much time in High School being  ansty, artsy, misunderstood, and hating everything to do with organized  sports just PAID to walk all morning.  Who'd have guessed we'd love it  so much?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-2730117205448627023?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/2730117205448627023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=2730117205448627023' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/2730117205448627023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/2730117205448627023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/06/but-for-my-lack-of-athletic-ability-i.html' title='But for my lack of athletic ability, I would totally run full marathons'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4129076204647727988</id><published>2011-06-19T19:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T20:09:35.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grass Smells Like Trash</title><content type='html'>I had the balcony door open the other morning &amp;amp; was enjoying the smell of freshly cut grass.  Until the girls came in and said, "What is that gross smell?"  "Yeah, it smells like garbage."  Oh my sad, sad little apartment bound children.  How can you not love the smell of a freshly mown lawn?  Come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've now had the first sunburns of the summer.  Gretchen's got a nice little tan, but poor Ella and I are just too white.  The guilt mounts every time I see her little shoulders peeling.  Yes, I know early sunburns can lead to skin cancer.  Yes, we put waterproof sunscreen on.  Twice!  But it wasn't enough.  Oh the guilt!  I'm sorry baby.  When you grow up, you can blame everything on me.  Or your Dad (it is Fathers Day, after all...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday Lismarie &amp;amp; I are doing a 1/2 marathon.  Are you impressed?  Wait till you hear the rest and then you can reassess.  We are walking it.  And it may take me 4 hours.  I've been training.  And by "training", I mean walking a few times a week.  Yesterday I walked up Rattlesnake Mountain.  (You may remember, &lt;a href="http://usrobertsons.blogspot.com/2010/06/gigantic-mountains-and-ginormous.html"&gt;we attempted a family hike last year. &lt;/a&gt; Hilarity ensued.  In hindsight.  Almost.)  On the way home I cut through the Huffaker Hills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT I LOVE ABOUT RENO:&lt;br /&gt;You can go 10 minutes in any direction and be in open space.  Here's a picture I stole from ExploringNevada.com.  I WALKED to this lovely empty trail from my apartment.  Sure, it was a 2 hour walk, but still!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CyzW2jrsvCw/Tf64EZ_NGcI/AAAAAAAABl4/bwTlCWsScUI/s1600/10-Rattlesnake%2BMountain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CyzW2jrsvCw/Tf64EZ_NGcI/AAAAAAAABl4/bwTlCWsScUI/s320/10-Rattlesnake%2BMountain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620131770839931330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I did not see any rattlesnakes.  But then I did start to think about the conversation we had about spiders at Girls Night Out last week and started freaking myself out.  Apparently I'm not as outdoorsy as I thought.  (And really, I didn't think I was that outdoorsy to begin with.  This post is all about reassessments.)  Why do we talk about this stuff at Girls Night Out?  You know when you start to think about spiders, and then you start to feel them crawling on you?  Yeah.  Now it's starting to happen to me again.  Shoot.  Time to change the topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OTHER THINGS I LOVE ABOUT RENO:&lt;br /&gt;Awful Awfuls at the Golden Nugget Cafe&lt;br /&gt;Nice People (seriously, people are so nice here)&lt;br /&gt;There's no traffic!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;and the WINCO bulk section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But despite all that we love about Reno, we will still enjoy out vacay to see Lismarie &amp;amp; Janeece this next week, and their prospective sidekicks.  Hooray for vacations!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what have you been up to so far this summer?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4129076204647727988?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4129076204647727988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4129076204647727988' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4129076204647727988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4129076204647727988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/06/grass-smells-like-trash.html' title='Grass Smells Like Trash'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CyzW2jrsvCw/Tf64EZ_NGcI/AAAAAAAABl4/bwTlCWsScUI/s72-c/10-Rattlesnake%2BMountain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1296128213787098601</id><published>2011-06-12T20:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T20:50:28.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Spring, Hello Summer!</title><content type='html'>The thing that I simultaneously dreaded and longed for has arrived. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella is done with first grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And summer has begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, like this blog post, our days have lost all their structure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ffr_GGIx4k8/TfWBoWNyqCI/AAAAAAAABlw/OM9jhhrfVu4/s1600/1-GoodbyeFirstGrade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ffr_GGIx4k8/TfWBoWNyqCI/AAAAAAAABlw/OM9jhhrfVu4/s320/1-GoodbyeFirstGrade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538640372738082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye wonderful first grade teacher!  You had a challenging class full  of dramatic 6 year olds and strong personalities, but you persevered  beautifully.  Thank you for being such a great teacher!  We've been so  lucky to be in your class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UHK57Z4GU8Y/TfWBoOEbOvI/AAAAAAAABlo/Ay8s9CINE14/s1600/2-GoodbyeDaisyScouts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UHK57Z4GU8Y/TfWBoOEbOvI/AAAAAAAABlo/Ay8s9CINE14/s320/2-GoodbyeDaisyScouts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538638185970418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye Daisy Scouts!  Ella had her Girl Scout Bridging Ceremony, and  that finally motivated me to hunt down all the patches that I'd been  holding on to for her Daisy Scouts Apron.  Except that apparently I  didn't "save" as many as I thought.  She's missing about 1/2 her  petals.  But I KNOW that she earned them all.  (Surely we should know by  now that I am not to be trusted with small things that must be ironed  or sewn or kept in a safe place.)  Nevertheless, the bridging ceremony  was a riotous success (most of the riot coming from the girls who  shouted "WELCOME TO BROWNIES!!!" every time one of their scout sisters  walked over the bridge...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello Summer Olympics Summer Games!  If someone ever suggest you volunteer at &lt;a href="http://www.specialolympics.org/"&gt;Special Olympics&lt;/a&gt;,  DO IT.  In fact, look up now when the next event is &amp;amp; email their  volunteer coordinator.  It will be the best Saturday you have all  month.  My friend Marianne &amp;amp; I took the kids from church and IT WAS  AMAZING.  So fun.  The atheletes were great, the races were inspiring,  the whole thing was fantastic.  Here's a blurry picture of one of my  favorite teenagers helping hand out medals to the swimming champions (of  which there were, perhaps, 200) (I KNOW!!!  SO GREAT!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6gwOUMpe3uk/TfWBnoWG4WI/AAAAAAAABlg/aHyLxA-r0Kg/s1600/3-SpecialOlympics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6gwOUMpe3uk/TfWBnoWG4WI/AAAAAAAABlg/aHyLxA-r0Kg/s320/3-SpecialOlympics.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538628059586914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye Friends!  We've lost TWO good families this week.  We're so sad  our friends are moving.  :(  But we're happy when we get to have all-day  playdates while their parents load the truck.  This works not only  because you're "being of service" while "watching their kids" (when  really, playdates are an essential way to keep the peace in our house.   Too much free time = crazy screaming = Mom loosing it), but then you  don't have to help load the moving truck!  (I'm just kidding friend,  I'll help you load your truck.  But are you sure you don't want me to  just keep the kids out of the way???  And watch movies with them all  day?  Ya sure?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we're alone, the boredom is overpowering, but magically the girls  find plenty of things to do when friends are over.  Like makeovers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iH7AKrAbOZQ/TfWBgjkvBsI/AAAAAAAABlQ/zh-nxLSTpLg/s1600/4-Makeup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iH7AKrAbOZQ/TfWBgjkvBsI/AAAAAAAABlQ/zh-nxLSTpLg/s320/4-Makeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538506519676610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she really did her own makeup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kx7oUmfo7nI/TfWBggPc6dI/AAAAAAAABlY/iWXyGZ4OWF4/s1600/4a-GettingReady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kx7oUmfo7nI/TfWBggPc6dI/AAAAAAAABlY/iWXyGZ4OWF4/s320/4a-GettingReady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538505625102802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then dress up and Glamor Shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HyBSMLnvOcA/TfWBf4KLCtI/AAAAAAAABlI/S8MuhboNnA4/s1600/5-FashionPhotos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HyBSMLnvOcA/TfWBf4KLCtI/AAAAAAAABlI/S8MuhboNnA4/s320/5-FashionPhotos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538494865541842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, of course, degrades in to this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qyrZgAotu4I/TfWBfnR1ESI/AAAAAAAABlA/jl1P6Pyasm0/s1600/6-ReadyForHerCloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qyrZgAotu4I/TfWBfnR1ESI/AAAAAAAABlA/jl1P6Pyasm0/s320/6-ReadyForHerCloseup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538490334253346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..and the inevitable GLOW wrestling/hugging match (which, just like the  real GLOW matches, must be stopped before they lead to tears.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E7jULEd8Kh4/TfWBfbW4VHI/AAAAAAAABk4/ijyNC1-KnSE/s1600/7-Sisters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E7jULEd8Kh4/TfWBfbW4VHI/AAAAAAAABk4/ijyNC1-KnSE/s320/7-Sisters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617538487134213234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  so we continue our summer, our days random and adventurous, and none of  them alike.  Except for swimming at the apartment pool and eating  pickles.   Both of which, according to Ella, no summer day is complete  without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are you up to this summer?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1296128213787098601?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1296128213787098601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1296128213787098601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1296128213787098601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1296128213787098601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/06/goodbye-spring-hello-summer.html' title='Goodbye Spring, Hello Summer!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ffr_GGIx4k8/TfWBoWNyqCI/AAAAAAAABlw/OM9jhhrfVu4/s72-c/1-GoodbyeFirstGrade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1038687320733971384</id><published>2011-05-29T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T21:38:57.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Hate Dance Class</title><content type='html'>Hello Dears.  I'm sorry I didn't post last weekend, I was busy taking a   nap.  I'm pretty sure everyone is panicking that the school year is   almost over (sniff!), and so we've been JAM PACKED for the past few   weeks.  Also, I am lazy on Sunday.  (It's the only day I get to be lazy.    I pretty much live it up.  Case in point:  The girls and I ate cookie   dough for dinner tonight.  Then we had soup from a can.  Colby is out  of  town, so we are just one tub of ice cream and Lifetime Movie  Marathon  from completing the Girls Weekend checklist.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you  know, we have two little ballerinas in this family.  Usually Ella is the  happy cooperative dancer.  She is excited to be at class, she  participates and listens to directions.  But a few weeks ago, she had  one of her quarterly meltdowns.   I got a series of notes, dramatically  handed to me between door slams and screams into pillows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella hates dance class.  (Please note the sweet little dancer at the bottom who has been vehemently crossed out.   HATE.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-We3G8-UIdgo/TeMM5-5dmvI/AAAAAAAABkk/7PTxMfX7IOM/s1600/42-IHateDanceClass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-We3G8-UIdgo/TeMM5-5dmvI/AAAAAAAABkk/7PTxMfX7IOM/s320/42-IHateDanceClass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612343750909860594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hates dance class and she HATES GOING TO DANCE CLASS.  Add heart.  Cross heart out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jYSWNTUlWPk/TeMM5zDJReI/AAAAAAAABkc/tyC3lt7VU6w/s1600/43-IAmNotGoingToDanceClass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jYSWNTUlWPk/TeMM5zDJReI/AAAAAAAABkc/tyC3lt7VU6w/s320/43-IAmNotGoingToDanceClass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612343747729245666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Dance Class is Stupid.  (Yes, she used the "s" word.  Strongly worded letters, I know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e2uOauLybC4/TeMM6Lh8RfI/AAAAAAAABks/ElOf8vblx-0/s1600/41-DanceClassIsStupid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e2uOauLybC4/TeMM6Lh8RfI/AAAAAAAABks/ElOf8vblx-0/s320/41-DanceClassIsStupid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612343754300868082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's the real problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fbSsO0cFZQ/TeMM5uAP1qI/AAAAAAAABkU/QExylaVWaj8/s1600/44-IAmNotHavingAGoodDay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7fbSsO0cFZQ/TeMM5uAP1qI/AAAAAAAABkU/QExylaVWaj8/s320/44-IAmNotHavingAGoodDay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612343746374915746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, sweetie.  Sometimes I'm just not having a good day either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After  a discussion (you know, once the door slams and pillow screams died  out), I found out her day was ruined when her table mate wouldn't share  her peach crayon at school.  Ella NEEDS peach to draw the skin tone.   Brown just wouldn't work for this picture.  I can understand that.  But  Izzy couldn't.  I'm not sure if you know this, but sometimes people make  decisions that may hurt your feelings.  But writing notes is a good way  to get those feelings out.  And really, Ella will be too self aware for  me to share stuff like this for much longer, so I'm going to enjoy  exploiting her angry notes for our entertainment while I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily  Ella recovered from her HATE of Dance Class in time to make it for the  last practice before the recital.  I went into the whole Dance Recital  experience assuming Gretchen wouldn't really participate.  And yes, she  lived up to my expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EXPECTATIONS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen will look SUPER CUTE, and be SUPER EXCITED about her costume, but she will not dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella did fantastic!  Smiled &amp;amp; did all the steps.  Good job!  (She's smack dab in the middle, the tall one.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UbA-Rps3IZo" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen looked cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uoOV4zQ1Nok" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HPcZVak_xJM" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  thing is, Gretchen loves making people laugh &amp;amp; being the center of  attention.  BUT ONLY ON HER TERMS.  Friday, I took Gretchen with me to  volunteer in Ella's class.  Usually the last hour of Friday afternoon is  spent watching science videos until it slowly degrades to dancing cat  videos on youtube (it's pretty cute, all the kids get up &amp;amp; dance  along.  Besides, their test scores are fantastic, so I thoroughly  approve.)  I wasn't too worried about Gretchen being a distraction.  How  can you be a distraction from dancing cat videos?  Oh, I'll tell you.   You can lift your shirt over your head, spit through it, and do a crazy  dance.  I finally posted her on top of the cubbies, where she could no  longer dramatically fall out of her chair or sit on anyone.  She lost  her "Happy Meal" privileges and ended up eating a hamburger with a cup  of water for our special Girls-Weekend-McDonalds-Dinner.  (I'm so mean, I  know.)  Nothing would get through to her!  I'd taker her for time-out  in the hall, and as soon as we stepped back inside, kids would say "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There's&lt;/span&gt;  Gretchen!!!" and it would begin all over again.  (Maybe next time I  need to put her in her dance outfit and tell her she'll be performing  for the kids.   That'll stop her!)  As soon as all the kids left for the  day, she promptly grabbed a book and started quietly reading to  herself.  ARGH!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in zombie uprising news...  Gretchen saw a  big van for Green Thumb Lawn care next to us (the logo was a hand with a  green thumb).  She wanted to know why there was a zombie finger on the  truck.  She is REALLY into zombies lately.  Maybe because their favorite  grown-up-book to look at is Pride &amp;amp; Prejudice &amp;amp; Zombies (they  like the pictures).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how was your week?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1038687320733971384?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1038687320733971384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1038687320733971384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1038687320733971384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1038687320733971384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-hate-dance-class.html' title='I Hate Dance Class'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-We3G8-UIdgo/TeMM5-5dmvI/AAAAAAAABkk/7PTxMfX7IOM/s72-c/42-IHateDanceClass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1664467218899834398</id><published>2011-05-15T14:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T14:29:13.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poultery Whisperer, Chick Charmer</title><content type='html'>Oh Friends, we had quite a week.  Full of new discoveries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;MAJOR LIFE CHANGING DISCOVERY:&lt;/span&gt;   This week we learned that Gretchen is AMAZING with baby chickens.  John  John got chicks at his house, and we got to go meet them on Thursday  with the rest of the preschool gang.  All the other kids were sort of  freaked out by their weird chicken feet and "sharp nails", and would  cuddle them sweetly until the chicks got their gross feet on them or  squirmed at all, then they'd drop them in a mix of surprise &amp;amp;  disgust.  But not Gretchen.  She examined their nasty chicken feet and  then said, "The baby chickens feet look like they have sharp nails, but  they won't really hurt me."  Then she snuggled chicks for two hours.   TWO HOURS.  My child does NOTHING for two hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHlqfEwWxfM/TdA-o_dLLjI/AAAAAAAABkM/wxcDc8Bslsc/s1600/21-ChickCharmer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHlqfEwWxfM/TdA-o_dLLjI/AAAAAAAABkM/wxcDc8Bslsc/s320/21-ChickCharmer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050410025758258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3QPXXYh_A6E/TdA-o5cVZrI/AAAAAAAABkE/1x9TS9R0gv4/s1600/22-ChickCharmercloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3QPXXYh_A6E/TdA-o5cVZrI/AAAAAAAABkE/1x9TS9R0gv4/s320/22-ChickCharmercloseup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050408411621042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did take a short break to wash hands and eat lunch.  Woo hoo!  Lunch!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--oMfhH-wJuo/TdA-osSM22I/AAAAAAAABj8/-EnTtlphujI/s1600/23-StopForLunch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--oMfhH-wJuo/TdA-osSM22I/AAAAAAAABj8/-EnTtlphujI/s320/23-StopForLunch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050404879457122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point I looked over &amp;amp; slightly panicked when the chick was  perfectly still with its eyes closed.  (OH CRAP!  Did she just kill the baby  chick!?!?!)  When I asked her if the chick was ok, she shook it slightly  &amp;amp; replied, "Yeah, it's fine."  And it was!  She actually got it to  fall asleep in her hand!  By the end she was such an expert, she could do it one-handed WHILE EATING A POPSICLE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zBx4CfMMYUQ/TdA-gCx_haI/AAAAAAAABjs/snPAKsRnlj4/s1600/24-ChickCharmerPopscicleEater.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zBx4CfMMYUQ/TdA-gCx_haI/AAAAAAAABjs/snPAKsRnlj4/s320/24-ChickCharmerPopscicleEater.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050256299558306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now how can I use this information to help Gretchen?  Could I bring a  baby chick to all our future playdates (there was no fighting around the  baby chickens!  They're such peacemakers!)  Could I bring baby chicks  on our next road trip (that sounds like a fine idea, right?  Baby chicks  end up being Chicken Nuggets, so it'd be perfectly reasonable for us to  bring them with us on all our mid-drive McD pit stops, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely unrelated note, while doing our hair on Friday, Gretchen  asked to be Pippi Longstocking.  And since I happened to have a bit of  wire in my craft supplies, I was happy to oblige:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A6acUQJ-uN4/TdA-gEvdYsI/AAAAAAAABjk/pHXgiWSZy1o/s1600/25PippiLongstocking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A6acUQJ-uN4/TdA-gEvdYsI/AAAAAAAABjk/pHXgiWSZy1o/s320/25PippiLongstocking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050256825803458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(She really does eat more than Popsicle &amp;amp; fudgesicles...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, yesterday, we went to &lt;a href="http://www.virginiacity-nv.org/"&gt;VIRGINIA CITY&lt;/a&gt;!!!   Did I tell you how many cookies Ella's Girl Scout Troop sold?  Almost  4,000!!!!  A group of 5-8 year olds.  Dude.  (We sold 29  thank-you-very-much...)  To celebrate their achievement, we all went to  Virginia City.  STEP BACK IN TIME.  It was pretty much the greatest trip  we've ever had there because I wasn't in charge.  One of the moms  organized a fantastic day for all of us.  We divided up into 4 groups  &amp;amp; went on a trolley ride, train ride, visited the museum,  underground mine tour, got pizza together AND got $5 gift certificates  for the candy store.  AND Auntie Amber came.  I know.  LUCKY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At "The Way it Was" Museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I7CkgG_fgkQ/TdA-f0c0eoI/AAAAAAAABjc/LSP9KA5Ynl8/s1600/26-Stagecoach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I7CkgG_fgkQ/TdA-f0c0eoI/AAAAAAAABjc/LSP9KA5Ynl8/s320/26-Stagecoach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050252452657794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the train ride...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wIREgLSXl3A/TdA-fn9El7I/AAAAAAAABjU/NLrGz5zndno/s1600/27-OnTheTrain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wIREgLSXl3A/TdA-fn9El7I/AAAAAAAABjU/NLrGz5zndno/s320/27-OnTheTrain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607050249098270642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Auntie Amber.  And apparently making a normal face in pictures is  painful for Gretchen, cause she just can't bring herself to do it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XSMfOYbzLCw/TdA-PJPBttI/AAAAAAAABjM/7puxC0sHD2k/s1600/28-AmberTrain-ing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XSMfOYbzLCw/TdA-PJPBttI/AAAAAAAABjM/7puxC0sHD2k/s320/28-AmberTrain-ing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049965974173394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trolley tour:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RAMGg_KIcDA/TdA-Oxy7Y5I/AAAAAAAABjE/BE2aQ9YIoSQ/s1600/DSC01201%2B%25282%2529-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RAMGg_KIcDA/TdA-Oxy7Y5I/AAAAAAAABjE/BE2aQ9YIoSQ/s320/DSC01201%2B%25282%2529-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049959682302866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Timey-Pizza Parlor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SCOUSzYNu0g/TdA-OuKuy8I/AAAAAAAABi8/uhXeJSxsSx0/s1600/DSC01240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SCOUSzYNu0g/TdA-OuKuy8I/AAAAAAAABi8/uhXeJSxsSx0/s320/DSC01240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049958708399042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old-Timey Ice Cream Parlor (bubble gum ice cream + small children = Good Times)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lUFi4-j7smg/TdA-OQA15II/AAAAAAAABi0/SABbedYTZAE/s1600/DSC01266.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lUFi4-j7smg/TdA-OQA15II/AAAAAAAABi0/SABbedYTZAE/s320/DSC01266.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049950613857410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ubhzNeVNMBI/TdA-OTnzN0I/AAAAAAAABis/1eYrI6Pwh8g/s1600/DSC01272.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ubhzNeVNMBI/TdA-OTnzN0I/AAAAAAAABis/1eYrI6Pwh8g/s320/DSC01272.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049951582566210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ax4wwNqIV-Q/TdA98cd-yQI/AAAAAAAABic/_YP0L35vWBo/s1600/DSC01275%2B%25282%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ax4wwNqIV-Q/TdA98cd-yQI/AAAAAAAABic/_YP0L35vWBo/s320/DSC01275%2B%25282%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049644719655170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MFjs6uhjXaw/TdA97yI1XPI/AAAAAAAABiU/Z_0ujwqKRfE/s1600/DSC01288%2B%25282%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MFjs6uhjXaw/TdA97yI1XPI/AAAAAAAABiU/Z_0ujwqKRfE/s320/DSC01288%2B%25282%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049633356668146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Timey People outside the Old Timey Gift Shop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JY_F_V4WlQo/TdA97q7siXI/AAAAAAAABiM/jaylCsUgxSk/s1600/29-OldTimeyPhotoOp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JY_F_V4WlQo/TdA97q7siXI/AAAAAAAABiM/jaylCsUgxSk/s320/29-OldTimeyPhotoOp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049631422515570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooray!!!  Thanks for coming with us Auntie Amber!  And thanks for  hanging out with us, awesome Girl Scout Friends!!!  We love you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, the last bit of BIG LIFE-CHANGING NEWS!!!  Ella lost a tooth.  It's  actually the 3rd tooth she lost, but the first two had to be extracted  by the dentist because otherwise I would throw up.  (I am NOT a good  candidate for dental school.)  This one Ella was able to work out by  herself.  Hooray!!!  The tooth fairy came.  Left a dollar.  (Good thing I  remembered to text her just before I fell asleep!  I had to jump out of  bed to let her know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wnvvFvggQFw/TdA97lp9L4I/AAAAAAAABiE/Q_u8_IxByV0/s1600/30-ToothFairyMoneyMakingOpportunity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wnvvFvggQFw/TdA97lp9L4I/AAAAAAAABiE/Q_u8_IxByV0/s320/30-ToothFairyMoneyMakingOpportunity.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607049630005931906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PREVIEW FOR NEXT WEEK:  The girls have their DANCE RECEITAL next  Saturday. You're totally invited to come.  You know you want to see a  bunch of girls dancing to Katy Perry's "Fireworks" for the grand finale.  See?  It's definitely ALL CAPS worthy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1664467218899834398?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1664467218899834398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1664467218899834398' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1664467218899834398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1664467218899834398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/05/poultery-whisperer-chick-charmer.html' title='Poultery Whisperer, Chick Charmer'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zHlqfEwWxfM/TdA-o_dLLjI/AAAAAAAABkM/wxcDc8Bslsc/s72-c/21-ChickCharmer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-7471945573891690763</id><published>2011-05-08T20:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T20:58:33.626-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trip We Didn't Want to Take</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DIxc1QqFDOA/TcdibW1MTiI/AAAAAAAABh8/mAfRYtUysxs/s1600/2-HappyMothersDay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DIxc1QqFDOA/TcdibW1MTiI/AAAAAAAABh8/mAfRYtUysxs/s320/2-HappyMothersDay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556483410546210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Mothers Day!  I hope yours was as lovely as mine, and that you were able to sit in church and listen to how wonderful being a mom is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WITHOUT FEELING GUILTY.  (Don't worry about &lt;/span&gt;your daughter wearing dress up Minnie Mouse high heels to church, there isn't there a rule against, right?  And they were lovely and spring like yellow Minnie Mouse shoes, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SHE DRESSED HERSELF&lt;/span&gt;, so take it up with her....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a sad week for us.  Last weekend we drove to Utah for Baby Abigail's funeral.  It was a really lovely funeral, and just as heartbreaking as you'd expect it to be.  Our prayers and love continue to go out to Tyler &amp;amp; Meghan.  This is just not fair, and we're so sorry.  Abigail was a miracle, and we're grateful for the 100 hours of life she had.  She was amazing, and so are you.  I feel blessed to have you all as my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--QC3nrhuykI/TcdibPa5uxI/AAAAAAAABh0/vIHsDNOUSjc/s1600/1-ZooMonkeys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--QC3nrhuykI/TcdibPa5uxI/AAAAAAAABh0/vIHsDNOUSjc/s320/1-ZooMonkeys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556481421228818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love our monkeys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the sad circumstances, we were grateful we got to spend a day with the cousins, including Uncle Tyler &amp;amp; Big Sister Kait.  Pics from "This Is The Place" monument, which is pretty much the coolest state park I've ever been to.  (Or city park.  Whoever runs it, they do a fantastic job...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iaMl7WiUA3g/TcdiTWJQcLI/AAAAAAAABhs/1z0KIDyu3nc/s1600/3-BrighamYoungStatue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iaMl7WiUA3g/TcdiTWJQcLI/AAAAAAAABhs/1z0KIDyu3nc/s320/3-BrighamYoungStatue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556345787314354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VSAblKR76Lc/TcdiTCc-6uI/AAAAAAAABhk/Po_k6YG6dbA/s1600/4-ChoreTime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VSAblKR76Lc/TcdiTCc-6uI/AAAAAAAABhk/Po_k6YG6dbA/s320/4-ChoreTime.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556340501342946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6oDd7WEPnjY/TcdiTIBxDUI/AAAAAAAABhc/MJJmu9VfdIQ/s1600/5-EllaHappyChoreTime.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6oDd7WEPnjY/TcdiTIBxDUI/AAAAAAAABhc/MJJmu9VfdIQ/s320/5-EllaHappyChoreTime.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556341997800770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vaOVbsrQU6E/TcdiS-WMgxI/AAAAAAAABhU/4uJEe1VsagU/s1600/6-SneakingUpstairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vaOVbsrQU6E/TcdiS-WMgxI/AAAAAAAABhU/4uJEe1VsagU/s320/6-SneakingUpstairs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556339399131922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZL62nUHH5eM/TcdiSkf2R9I/AAAAAAAABhM/ZjZJzAEP0qw/s1600/7-TrainPlay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZL62nUHH5eM/TcdiSkf2R9I/AAAAAAAABhM/ZjZJzAEP0qw/s320/7-TrainPlay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604556332460296146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YFHtPtTKUm4/Tcdh9jjkY7I/AAAAAAAABg8/pHsnpL57lH4/s1600/9-CrackInTheGate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YFHtPtTKUm4/Tcdh9jjkY7I/AAAAAAAABg8/pHsnpL57lH4/s320/9-CrackInTheGate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555971430212530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgpvP9rjX-Y/Tcdh9VgiiRI/AAAAAAAABg0/XFW8HC3ZCmg/s1600/10-OnTheTrain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgpvP9rjX-Y/Tcdh9VgiiRI/AAAAAAAABg0/XFW8HC3ZCmg/s320/10-OnTheTrain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555967659411730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-KeTSeLukg/Tcdh9OwXwwI/AAAAAAAABgs/Xz7oLsdoxc4/s1600/11-CuteGirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-KeTSeLukg/Tcdh9OwXwwI/AAAAAAAABgs/Xz7oLsdoxc4/s320/11-CuteGirl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555965846766338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bCEipJqQhcc/Tcdh87_f-lI/AAAAAAAABgk/wb7l63irkmU/s1600/12-PanningForGold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bCEipJqQhcc/Tcdh87_f-lI/AAAAAAAABgk/wb7l63irkmU/s320/12-PanningForGold.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555960809945682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-usbqli4rIPg/Tcdh9w_exaI/AAAAAAAABhE/QpITSrHY1YM/s1600/8-FeedingCow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-usbqli4rIPg/Tcdh9w_exaI/AAAAAAAABhE/QpITSrHY1YM/s320/8-FeedingCow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555975036945826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GdEajbPP5lM/TcdhlbMkpZI/AAAAAAAABgU/McXBRubRLD0/s1600/14-MayPole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GdEajbPP5lM/TcdhlbMkpZI/AAAAAAAABgU/McXBRubRLD0/s320/14-MayPole.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555556869416338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qVi6NI1X_ZA/TcdhlBqv_NI/AAAAAAAABgM/1C6O-QVyfg0/s1600/15-MayPoleGirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qVi6NI1X_ZA/TcdhlBqv_NI/AAAAAAAABgM/1C6O-QVyfg0/s320/15-MayPoleGirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555550016666834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cdZPZF0NYlc/Tcdhk62WD9I/AAAAAAAABgE/ayR9YB4eRIk/s1600/16-CousinsOnHorseback.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cdZPZF0NYlc/Tcdhk62WD9I/AAAAAAAABgE/ayR9YB4eRIk/s320/16-CousinsOnHorseback.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555548186251218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UUGzXOJomm4/Tcdhk_ResMI/AAAAAAAABf8/dnESiIxngtY/s1600/17-CowgirlGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UUGzXOJomm4/Tcdhk_ResMI/AAAAAAAABf8/dnESiIxngtY/s320/17-CowgirlGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555549373804738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbddMqF4avg/Tcdhlpq4QvI/AAAAAAAABgc/tL36ejVYSPE/s1600/13-DunceCap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbddMqF4avg/Tcdhlpq4QvI/AAAAAAAABgc/tL36ejVYSPE/s320/13-DunceCap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604555560754627314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're glad to have such a great family, and the even though sometimes the worst thing you can imagine happens, that we know there's a bigger plan out there.  (But this still just sucks.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping next week is a little better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-7471945573891690763?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/7471945573891690763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=7471945573891690763' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7471945573891690763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7471945573891690763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/05/trip-we-didnt-want-to-take.html' title='The Trip We Didn&apos;t Want to Take'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DIxc1QqFDOA/TcdibW1MTiI/AAAAAAAABh8/mAfRYtUysxs/s72-c/2-HappyMothersDay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-2103604528719942317</id><published>2011-04-24T14:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T14:31:51.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Relax When You Can Go On Another Road Trip?</title><content type='html'>For Spring Break we drove to see Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa.  (Yes, we are  crazy.  No, we don't have any more trips planned.  Oh wait.  After 2  weeks we won't have any more trips.)  Poor Grandma worked till 7pm every  night, so we "helped".  Ella picked some lovely little bouquets and  labeled the place settings to avoid confusion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s1T0n8v9hcU/TbSO63p3AGI/AAAAAAAABfs/Xuwo8by7ZQI/s1600/2%2B-%2BTable%2BSetting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s1T0n8v9hcU/TbSO63p3AGI/AAAAAAAABfs/Xuwo8by7ZQI/s320/2%2B-%2BTable%2BSetting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257378751447138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls helped Grandpa in the yard when he got home every night, then  sat with him while he watched the basketball games and asked about 1,000  questions  (I don't think either of them had seen a basketball game  before.  The only sport that's on in our house is football.  The real  football.  You know, the soccer kind.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--QDDHMv6ZEE/TbSO7HMHDOI/AAAAAAAABf0/kDiHGV_LAeI/s1600/1-%2BGrandpa%2Band%2Bgirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--QDDHMv6ZEE/TbSO7HMHDOI/AAAAAAAABf0/kDiHGV_LAeI/s320/1-%2BGrandpa%2Band%2Bgirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257382921637090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met up with my book-by-mail book club pals Britt and Jeanette, though I  didn't think about getting out the camera till AFTER Jeanette had left.  Thanks for meeting us Britt &amp;amp; J!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WYGb5HuKEN4/TbSOxZEYAbI/AAAAAAAABfc/Tk5-QfiQF_U/s1600/4%2B-%2BBook%2BClub%2BLunch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WYGb5HuKEN4/TbSOxZEYAbI/AAAAAAAABfc/Tk5-QfiQF_U/s320/4%2B-%2BBook%2BClub%2BLunch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257215922340274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the Hogle Zoo, where the highlight of our whole trip was  watching the gorilla pick his nose and then eat it.  (You could hear the  delighted screams of disgusted children for miles.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pk0IYXJ69gU/TbSOw0_xpfI/AAAAAAAABfU/5JBZ5_C6-kU/s1600/5%2B-%2BElla%2BSwings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pk0IYXJ69gU/TbSOw0_xpfI/AAAAAAAABfU/5JBZ5_C6-kU/s320/5%2B-%2BElla%2BSwings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257206239372786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, for the first time in 14 years, I stepped foot back on BYU campus.   (Apparently I graduated and never looked back.  Though I did have fun  while there and met people who I'll love forever.)  I took the girls to  the bookstore where Ella picked up a new chapter book.  (She carries it  everywhere with her now &amp;amp; tells people it's a "College Book" since  she bought it at the University Bookstore.)  Gretchen picked out a  lovely picture for her room.  Then we visited the library, where  Gretchen almost punctured a hole in the gigantic globe in the  cartography department,  then we visited the Fine Arts Building where  Gretchen almost knocked over some BFA Student's pottery exhibit, then we  visited the museum where she hopped from one bench to another singing  "Jin-Gle (hop) BELLS (hop) Jin-GLE (hop) BELLS!!!! (hop) JINGLE ALL THE  (hop) WAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!" while the other patrons attempted to view Carl  Bloch's paintings of Christ.  Then we went to the Sculpture Garden and  yelled at ducks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJOfKTzzIks/TbSOxjbopxI/AAAAAAAABfk/wk2k41iy4o4/s1600/3%2B-%2BBYU%2BSculpture%2BGarden.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJOfKTzzIks/TbSOxjbopxI/AAAAAAAABfk/wk2k41iy4o4/s320/3%2B-%2BBYU%2BSculpture%2BGarden.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257218704254738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an attempt to cut down on whining and keep Gretchen in her seat  (since she can now unbuckle herself) I handed her the camera.  This is  what she looked at for the 8 hour drive home. No wonder they both go  crazy in the car:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N3sr7lt11mI/TbSOwmk3NVI/AAAAAAAABfM/Cv9sghdXBwU/s1600/6%2B-%2BCar%2BRide%2BView%2Bof%2BMom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N3sr7lt11mI/TbSOwmk3NVI/AAAAAAAABfM/Cv9sghdXBwU/s320/6%2B-%2BCar%2BRide%2BView%2Bof%2BMom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257202368394578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d05Pgg50eC8/TbSOwaBadPI/AAAAAAAABfE/9iRKCRiefyo/s1600/7%2B-%2BCard%2BRide%2BView%2Bof%2BDad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d05Pgg50eC8/TbSOwaBadPI/AAAAAAAABfE/9iRKCRiefyo/s320/7%2B-%2BCard%2BRide%2BView%2Bof%2BDad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257198998484210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l43SJ8Qjhp4/TbSOlSVoi4I/AAAAAAAABe0/GLfIgTxcVkk/s1600/9%2B-%2BCar%2BRide%2BView%2Bof%2BElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l43SJ8Qjhp4/TbSOlSVoi4I/AAAAAAAABe0/GLfIgTxcVkk/s320/9%2B-%2BCar%2BRide%2BView%2Bof%2BElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257007957248898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Dfiv53Bj1I/TbSOlq44OGI/AAAAAAAABe8/ll4b0FV9Hlc/s1600/8%2B-%2BCard%2BRide%2BView%2Bto%2Bthe%2Bleft.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Dfiv53Bj1I/TbSOlq44OGI/AAAAAAAABe8/ll4b0FV9Hlc/s320/8%2B-%2BCard%2BRide%2BView%2Bto%2Bthe%2Bleft.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257014547527778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of doing laundry when we got home, we celebrated with friends at the mall....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mup6-1UJ43E/TbSOlL4WZPI/AAAAAAAABes/-yfchK7lwrE/s1600/10%2B-%2BPlay%2BArea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Mup6-1UJ43E/TbSOlL4WZPI/AAAAAAAABes/-yfchK7lwrE/s320/10%2B-%2BPlay%2BArea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257006223811826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5Kp9vz1NmWE/TbSOlAHkv2I/AAAAAAAABek/SSTRABfwjCI/s1600/11%2B-%2BPlay%2BArea%2BHijinks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5Kp9vz1NmWE/TbSOlAHkv2I/AAAAAAAABek/SSTRABfwjCI/s320/11%2B-%2BPlay%2BArea%2BHijinks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599257003066441570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and had a Preschool Easter Egg Hunt &amp;amp; BBQ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cy2UkpCprEk/TbSOkxuczWI/AAAAAAAABec/meo23zzX0h8/s1600/12%2B-%2BEaster%2BEgg%2BHunt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Cy2UkpCprEk/TbSOkxuczWI/AAAAAAAABec/meo23zzX0h8/s320/12%2B-%2BEaster%2BEgg%2BHunt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599256999202966882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  best part of Easter (besides, you know, going to church &amp;amp; thinking  about Jesus) is black jelly beans.  I've got a WHOLE BAG all to myself  because no one else likes them.  (Gretchen told me they look like poop  and taste like poop.  And look like poop.  The whole preschool is going  through a potty-talk phase together.  It's lovely.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen ran around so much this week that she told me her face was  leaking.  (It was sweat).  Nothing says fun like a sweaty, flushed  cheeked three year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I think I'll take a nap.  What are YOU up to?&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-2103604528719942317?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/2103604528719942317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=2103604528719942317' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/2103604528719942317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/2103604528719942317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/04/why-relax-when-you-can-go-on-another.html' title='Why Relax When You Can Go On Another Road Trip?'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s1T0n8v9hcU/TbSO63p3AGI/AAAAAAAABfs/Xuwo8by7ZQI/s72-c/2%2B-%2BTable%2BSetting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-555369631768188702</id><published>2011-04-03T19:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T19:36:21.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Recover from Late Spring Snowstorms</title><content type='html'>I now have no reason to complain (not that it will stop me).  At this  very moment, I have NO DEADLINES!!!  Come tomorrow morning, I expect  that will change, but this weekend I've been reveling in free time.   Yesterday while I was at the gym (do you like how I drop that in to make  it seem like I'm super healthy?  I know) anyway, while I was on the  elliptical (level 10 for 40 minutes, no biggie), I planned out a picture  book I've been wanting to put together for a while.  Last night I sat  down &amp;amp; typed out the manuscript (which sounds impressive, but is  maybe, MAYBE, 200 words), then worked out thumbnail sketches.  I even  started the first page's sketch.  See what happens when I get a calm in  the storm?  Magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of the stress I had a few weeks ago was that I had to finish all my  projects so we could meet Lismarie &amp;amp; her family in PALM SPRINGS!!!   Well, technically it was Indio, but if I say, "Indio!"  You will say,  "Where is that?"  (Unless you are Grandpa Conrad or love Grandpa Conrad,  in which case you will already know where Indio is...)  So I will just  refer to our vacation destination as Palm Springs.  But I did it.  I  even cleaned the house before we left so that we wouldn't come home to a  disaster.  Well, it was a little disaster-ish once we got home, what  with the four semi-unpakced suitcases &amp;amp; a carload of  crap-that-you-unloaded-but-didn't-put-away-yet sitting in the  hallway...  Our apartment is tolerable when it's clean.  When it's  messy, it makes me want to go to bed and sleep for a week.  So clean is  good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right Gretchen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_we_xipbBsk/TZkqSzOmTfI/AAAAAAAABeU/n0nuvthCrhE/s1600/1-GretchenDollBed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 243px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_we_xipbBsk/TZkqSzOmTfI/AAAAAAAABeU/n0nuvthCrhE/s320/1-GretchenDollBed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591546914834632178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BscZtFxV7P8/TZkqO7qze0I/AAAAAAAABeM/THnTXhYraJk/s1600/2-ColbyStudy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BscZtFxV7P8/TZkqO7qze0I/AAAAAAAABeM/THnTXhYraJk/s320/2-ColbyStudy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591546848380943170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how was our vacation?  TOTALLY WORTH IT.  Totally worth the 2 days  of driving (driving with a three year old, I might add).  Totally worth  the weeks of work on top of mothering on top of more work on top of  cleaning and chores.  Totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did we do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um.  Well.  We ate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aeOaIAFw0iI/TZkqOuzmyHI/AAAAAAAABeE/q0qLVBb0QZg/s1600/3-Indio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aeOaIAFw0iI/TZkqOuzmyHI/AAAAAAAABeE/q0qLVBb0QZg/s320/3-Indio.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591546844928198770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wore our bathing suits all-day-every-day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xkY6jAzLAkc/TZkqOTqPeuI/AAAAAAAABd8/SmOZWHfOcB0/s1600/4-BathingBeauty1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xkY6jAzLAkc/TZkqOTqPeuI/AAAAAAAABd8/SmOZWHfOcB0/s320/4-BathingBeauty1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591546837641165538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BWVLR6rxFSA/TZkqOT6YrVI/AAAAAAAABd0/iR6y1rRvTeI/s1600/5-BathingBeautyCloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BWVLR6rxFSA/TZkqOT6YrVI/AAAAAAAABd0/iR6y1rRvTeI/s320/5-BathingBeautyCloseup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591546837708877138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vVs_EX5wNGM/TZkqOP477bI/AAAAAAAABds/A0PqurQEpIE/s1600/6-BathingBeauty2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vVs_EX5wNGM/TZkqOP477bI/AAAAAAAABds/A0PqurQEpIE/s320/6-BathingBeauty2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591546836629056946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We swam and napped and ate and then swam some more.  We floated in the  lazy river.  We steamed in the hot tub.  Gretchen &amp;amp; Ella blew  bubbles in the water.  Ella kept saying, "Watch this!" and then dunking  her head totally in the water (which I must say {without exaggeration}  IS A MIRACLE!!!)  Paradise.  Lismarie, THANK YOU SO MUCH.  It was  wonderful.  We met Grandpa Conrad for lunch and he suggested a number of  activities we might enjoy.  I had to stop him.  Our only plan was to  swim and lounge.  Anything that involved getting into the car and  planning potty breaks wasn't going to work.  Sigh.  Vacation bliss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to our strange, real life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-555369631768188702?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/555369631768188702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=555369631768188702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/555369631768188702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/555369631768188702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/04/how-to-recover-from-late-spring.html' title='How to Recover from Late Spring Snowstorms'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_we_xipbBsk/TZkqSzOmTfI/AAAAAAAABeU/n0nuvthCrhE/s72-c/1-GretchenDollBed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4781533038688881961</id><published>2011-03-20T15:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T15:16:09.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wonderful Regular Old Boring</title><content type='html'>I didn't take any pictures this week.  That is so unlike me!  I'm sure  we'll make up for it next weekend when we go on an adventure with  Lismarie and family!  Woooot!!!  (Lismarie and I tried to coordinate a  spring-break vacation, but our kids spring breaks were in totally  different months.  And no where near Easter.  So instead we're ditching  our lives for a few days and driving to someplace warm.  It will be  fabulous.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a dangerous new store in the mall.  And since the mall is a  quick walk across the street, we go there a lot.  They sell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PUPPIES!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know, it's horrible every way.  Who knows what kind of breeder  they came from, they're stuck in little cages all day, and there are so  many dogs in shelters that need homes (plus they're all "purebred".  I  like muts.  Purebreds are always so high strung and inbred.  But wiener  dogs are awesome.  And puggles.  And boxers.  And Siberian Huskies.  And  I want to take them all home, even though the store smells like dog  pee.  A lot.  Shoot, puppies have some sort of strange magical cuteness  to make me overlook that smell.)  The girls and I want a dog.  But we're  not going to get one till we have a house.  Cause bringing a dog into  this tiny apartment would just be mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An amazing thing happened this week, I finished the last work project on  my list of projects.  I sat down at my desk to ponder the rest of the  week.  It's been so long since I've had a free day to work on whatever  whim wandered into my mind.  Oh the possibilities!  I could work on the  fairy tale I started a year ago.  I could work on the music theory board  book Aunt Ne &amp;amp; I are putting together.  I could map out a craft  book idea that's been bouncing around in my head for the past 3 years.  I  decided to quickly check my email.  My free time lasted LESS THAN FIVE  MINUTES.  I'd finally heard back on the set of sketches I was waiting  for &amp;amp; now before we leave town I'll be finishing the 59-spot  illustration job!  But after Friday, I really SHOULD be done with my  projects again.  Till the next one.  (Not that I'm complaining, I'm  grateful for the work.  Especially jobs like this with a big fat  paycheck at the end.  Oh how I love getting paid!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what have you been up to?  Do share!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4781533038688881961?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4781533038688881961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4781533038688881961' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4781533038688881961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4781533038688881961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/03/wonderful-regular-old-boring.html' title='Wonderful Regular Old Boring'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-330892538346373037</id><published>2011-03-13T21:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T21:16:31.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Video Proof</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UeP6YrQSXoE/TX2TCVsTtxI/AAAAAAAABdk/yg-LDmZhobE/s1600/1-GretchenKindOfAttitude.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UeP6YrQSXoE/TX2TCVsTtxI/AAAAAAAABdk/yg-LDmZhobE/s320/1-GretchenKindOfAttitude.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583780781401290514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was your week?  Ours was stylish:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KP27WnJyVQw/TX2TCM8DTjI/AAAAAAAABdc/t38_Obwrc1U/s1600/2-DenimJumpsuitAwesomeness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KP27WnJyVQw/TX2TCM8DTjI/AAAAAAAABdc/t38_Obwrc1U/s320/2-DenimJumpsuitAwesomeness.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583780779051404850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(She actually picked her ensemble herself.  Don't the white cowgirl  boots bring it together?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to prove that we don't neglect our other child, here's a picture of  Ella at dance class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-501KLtHOXxk/TX2TB8ZIiXI/AAAAAAAABdU/uuoXYXT-4xY/s1600/3-EllaDanceClass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-501KLtHOXxk/TX2TB8ZIiXI/AAAAAAAABdU/uuoXYXT-4xY/s320/3-EllaDanceClass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583780774609979762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then here's another one of Gretchen.  (I like this picture because  it looks like someone took out all those Dancing Cowgirls.  But they're  just sleeping, dreaming Cowgirl Dreams.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uveWIY0i6PQ/TX2TBsd1DUI/AAAAAAAABdM/AGEKPkSwDlY/s1600/4-DreamingCowgirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uveWIY0i6PQ/TX2TBsd1DUI/AAAAAAAABdM/AGEKPkSwDlY/s320/4-DreamingCowgirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583780770334707010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really tried to whittle down my videos of the class, but I couldn't.  I  really won't blame you if you don't want to watch them.  But SO CUTE,  right?  I KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AtsV4Ya8mco?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AtsV4Ya8mco?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7de9E3XmfPE?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7de9E3XmfPE?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fVWpN53ZyCQ?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fVWpN53ZyCQ?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/K1b3OTX2N1o?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/K1b3OTX2N1o?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In defiance of all this girliness, Gretchen decided yesterday to be a  boy.  She wore some elastic-bottomed navy sweat pants, vans, and a Bob  Marley t-shirt (which is also known as the "Scary Man" shirt at our  house, since they're both slightly terrified of Bob Marley's picture.   They feel so brave when they wear that shirt).  She was known as  "Buddy", and she corrected me many times when I slipped and called her  Gretchen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Christmas I dragged my Hammered Dulcimer out from it's hiding place  under my bed.  I usually only pull it out once a year at Christmas to  play for the Relief Society.  But this year I got asked to play again in  January.  And it's been out since then.  In years past I've had to keep  it either hidden away or hung high up on the wall, but it seems we've  reached a milestone.  I CAN KEEP MY DULCIMER OUT NOW.  The girls totally  respect it.  It probably helps that I let them play it whenever they  ask nicely.  I taught Ella a few basics &amp;amp; then how to play "Twinkle  Little Star".  She was so proud of herself, she had me write a note to  her music teacher to see if she could do a demonstration at school.  And  kindly enough, her teacher obliged.  (It just happened to be Celtic  Music week!)  Ella did GREAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vxNEpLF-8Ig/TX2TBiowAMI/AAAAAAAABdE/6xgQsGcgwt0/s1600/5-HammeredDulcimerDemonstration.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vxNEpLF-8Ig/TX2TBiowAMI/AAAAAAAABdE/6xgQsGcgwt0/s320/5-HammeredDulcimerDemonstration.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583780767696158914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it for us.  And I promise I won't post any dance pictures  next week.  Really.&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-330892538346373037?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/330892538346373037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=330892538346373037' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/330892538346373037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/330892538346373037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/03/video-proof.html' title='Video Proof'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UeP6YrQSXoE/TX2TCVsTtxI/AAAAAAAABdk/yg-LDmZhobE/s72-c/1-GretchenKindOfAttitude.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4379522657855141724</id><published>2011-03-06T20:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T20:40:11.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Name Post</title><content type='html'>Sorry we've been MIA for a few weeks.  The 32 page book is completed.  &lt;a href="http://aprylstottdesign.com/blog/2011/03/02/bear/"&gt;PHEW.&lt;/a&gt;  It  was a lot of late nights, Colby on dinner duty (which was delicious  &amp;amp; much appreciated), and me having to just not care about anything  else for a little while except for the girls &amp;amp; work.  And also, one  little breakdown on Tuesday.  But I'm mostly all better now (I'm not  ready to quit everything at the moment.  I'm trying not to think about  how much time church takes.  Quitting church needs to get out of my  mind.  I would be sad about it later.  You know, after the 20 naps I  would have time for once I freed up all that mental space my calling  occupies...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still waiting to hear back on the 59 spot job.  And when I do, I'm  going to be sucked under again.  So lets enjoy this little bit of sanity  while we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rj5DeMozvdQ/TXRbwLo7xQI/AAAAAAAABc8/ct7V0lxI1Mk/s1600/GretchenValentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rj5DeMozvdQ/TXRbwLo7xQI/AAAAAAAABc8/ct7V0lxI1Mk/s320/GretchenValentine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581186721535214850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Gretchen at a cookie decorating party before V-day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P_6LSEHBJGA/TXRbv5LkPcI/AAAAAAAABc0/hBEFxxnhsIY/s1600/ValentinePartyLinup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P_6LSEHBJGA/TXRbv5LkPcI/AAAAAAAABc0/hBEFxxnhsIY/s320/ValentinePartyLinup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581186716580199874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At another super fun Valentines day party...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PwGX_bCjcFk/TXRbvgzn_mI/AAAAAAAABcs/s3raxFH--G0/s1600/TigerGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PwGX_bCjcFk/TXRbvgzn_mI/AAAAAAAABcs/s3raxFH--G0/s320/TigerGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581186710037331554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..and with her face painted like a tiger on "T" day at preschool this  week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought my old camera to the Amazing Dance Class this week, but it was  out of batteries.  So alas, I don't have any awesome video of Gretchen  &amp;amp; Ella in cowgirl outfits dancing with lassos.  But it's cowgirl  month ALL MARCH.  So Grandparents, since I'm sure you're the only ones  who really care, STAY TUNED. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Random Cuteness:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen and Ella are sitting in the car.  Gretchen is staring intently  at Ella.&lt;br /&gt;Ella:  Why are you looking at me?&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen:  (Yelling with Gretchen-like intensity) BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen gets in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen says to us:  I AM NOT HAPPY TO YOU RIGHT NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella &amp;amp; I are singing, "Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darlin'  Clementine...."&lt;br /&gt;Ella:  When was this song written?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  A long, long time ago?&lt;br /&gt;Ella:  Like in 1983?&lt;br /&gt;(Wikipedia says more like 1883... "The words are those of a bereaved  lover singing about his darling,  the daughter of a miner in the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1849"&gt;1849&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/California_Gold_Rush"&gt;California Gold  Rush&lt;/a&gt;. He loses her in a drowning accident, though he consoles  himself towards the end of the song with Clementine's "little sister". &lt;p&gt;The verse about the little sister was often left out of folk song  books intended for children, presumably because it seemed morally  questionable." Hee hee!  Good call.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And lastly, my Random Parenting  Discovery:&lt;/span&gt;  Ella wants to play with me constantly.  CONSTANTLY.   And though I love my children, whenever I sit down to play with them,  all I can think about is the millions of things I need to do.  This is  silly.  No task is more important that spending some quality time with  the girls.  So to trick myself into being "present" for the barbie  drama/playdough birthday party/medical doll crisis, I set the timer for  20 - 25 minutes.  It totally works.  When I know that the baby-doll  drama will end eventually, it's so much easier to immerse myself in it.   (Also, I can't lay down or I will fall asleep.  So I can only play  while sitting up.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Do you have any Random Parenting Discoveries to share?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4379522657855141724?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4379522657855141724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4379522657855141724' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4379522657855141724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4379522657855141724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/03/no-name-post.html' title='No Name Post'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rj5DeMozvdQ/TXRbwLo7xQI/AAAAAAAABc8/ct7V0lxI1Mk/s72-c/GretchenValentine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5681125789333320861</id><published>2011-02-06T20:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T21:08:37.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Found And Random Things</title><content type='html'>Colby asked why I've been using my crappy little camera instead of the  Nikon.  I said I didn't want to use my Grandpa's awesome old film camera  (I didn't realize which Nikon he was talking about).  Then he informed  me that our lovely old digital camera was back from the repair shop  (where it'd been fixed FOR FREE!  Woot!  Hooray for known factory  defects!)  (The camera has been broken since June of 2007.  It's like  Christmas to get it back!)  So look what I did!!!  Took pictures of  Gretchen swinging that aren't blurry!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TU90JWCb57I/AAAAAAAABck/1nIJBM71CXc/s1600/1GretchenLaughingOnSwing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TU90JWCb57I/AAAAAAAABck/1nIJBM71CXc/s320/1GretchenLaughingOnSwing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570798967964034994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TU90JOw0zEI/AAAAAAAABcc/gVVLY3p1QsA/s1600/2GretchenLooking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TU90JOw0zEI/AAAAAAAABcc/gVVLY3p1QsA/s320/2GretchenLooking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570798966011120706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to whine about the overwhelming list of things I had to do this week, or the amount of work I had (I think I whine about those two things every post.)  Most days I feel like I'm either taking care of the girls or working, no down-time to myself (wait, I'm whining, but it's going somewhere, really!)  Yesterday I decided to take a night off.  It was wonderful.  I finished a craft and then went to bed.  Oh heaven!   Then today I took advantage of my Sunday work-free time to document the crafts we've done in our MOPS group this year.  &lt;a href="http://aprylstottdesign.com/blog/2011/02/06/a-year-of-mops-crafts/"&gt;Take a look&lt;/a&gt; if you're feeling crafty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been working on Ella's science fair project.  I was really proud of us when we came up with our experiment idea.  They'd had a demonstration at school of what happens when you drop Mint Mentos into Diet Coke.  She was pretty impressed with the explosion that resulted.  We decided to see if we could find any other candy that would make soda explode.  Fun, right?  Then a few weeks ago we were at Girl Scouts and I was talking to another mom.  I asked what they were doing for their experiment.   THEY HAD THE EXACT SAME PLAN.  Luckily the girls are in different classes.  Though the other mom said, "You know, if we're doing it, chances are another 10 people will too..."  So we're going to have to totally sell our experiment with a fantastic display board.  Yesterday we picked up the last of our candy and went to an empty field.  It's a good thing we didn't try it in the kitchen.  I'll share the pictures next week.  And you should go invest $2 in some Mint Mentos and Diet Coke.  Or look at the million youtube videos dedicated to that awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week I listened to "The Road" as an audio book.  Wow.  That is one powerful book.  It's really dark, but I loved it.  If you haven't read it, skip this next part:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The whole time I was thinking, "The mom was totally right.  They should have just all killed themselves before they were raped and cannibalized!"  Especially when they went to that old house with all the people in the basement!  But by the end I had completely switched my opinion.  The fact that Cormac McCarthy was able to fill a book with such horrific and vivid details and still convince me that their painful struggle for life was worth it proves his mastery as a writer.  The book is powerful and beautifully written&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Another thing that struck me was while listening to the brutality of their degenerate "society", I kept thinking, "No, this couldn't REALLY happen, right?  God wouldn't let that happen."  But it could.  And it did.  We have a scriptural record of this happening (&lt;a href="http://lds.org/scriptures/bofm/moro/9?lang=eng"&gt;Moroni 9: 7-10&lt;/a&gt;).  So of course it could happen again.  And though "The Road" is fiction, like all good stories, it makes you wonder about what choices you'd make with your life.  If you knew that was in store for your little children, what would you do?&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Also, I need to go order about 5000 lighters and 50 extra pairs of shoes now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella just came out of her room and jogged a circle around our apartment.  I think she's still asleep.  She's sleep-jogging!  I'd better go take care of that and stop worrying about offing-myself before I get cannibalized by apocalyptic survivors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(She just came back out and sat down at the kitchen table.  Colby led her gently back to bed.  I think the sleep-traveling is mostly over for the night...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you kids ever do weird stuff like that in their sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5681125789333320861?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5681125789333320861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5681125789333320861' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5681125789333320861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5681125789333320861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/02/found-and-random-things.html' title='Found And Random Things'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TU90JWCb57I/AAAAAAAABck/1nIJBM71CXc/s72-c/1GretchenLaughingOnSwing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4923111500135598712</id><published>2011-01-30T20:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T20:16:18.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously?  Cutest Thing Ever.</title><content type='html'>Hello Loves!  How was your week?  Ours was great, interesting, fun, and  sad at the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great to host preschool.  Gretchen had missed two weeks of  learnin' cause she was hacking and coughing and oozing at the eyes and  nose and being generally infectious.  She woke up Tuesday morning with  red eyes and after trying really hard not to say bad words, I called the  other parents &amp;amp; said, "It could be pink eye.  Maybe it's just her  cold.  We're having preschool.  Risk it if you dare."  They all risked  it.  I guess a two hour break from your toddler is worth that little  roulette game.  And it wasn't pink eye after all!  It must have just  been from her cold.  CRISIS AVERTED! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After preschool, I was talking to my dear friend &lt;a href="http://chadlovesbecky.blogspot.com/?zx=52e5b24a68279edf"&gt;Becky&lt;/a&gt;,  and she was going on and on about the most fabulous dance class our  friend &lt;a href="http://creativeartsreno.com/"&gt;Katherine&lt;/a&gt; teaches.   I've been wanting to put the girls in a dance class since I found out I  was pregnant with a girl-child, and this class is pretty much  ridiculously cute.  But I just can't justify the minimal expense while  Colby isn't working.  (Just in case you're wondering, the girls now have  a running tally of things they'll do when Colby gets a job.  Go to  Disneyland.  Go out to eat.  Go to ballet class.  Buy Tinkerbell wings  at the Disney Store.  And I will join the gym so I won't have to use the  scary one in our apartment complex.  Oh yeah, and buy a house.)  Becky  was so sad that I said we wouldn't be signing up that she told Katherine  about it.  And then Katherine asked if I'd do a trade.  OH YES I  WILL!!!  So now my dreams have come true.  This dream here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This dream is a FAIRY TALE DANCE CLASS.  Gretchen was shy at first.   That lasted about 30 seconds.  Then she realized that THIS.  IS.   AWESOME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqjW3qTI/AAAAAAAABcQ/ReHIoSEdM3E/s1600/51GretchenBalletLineup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqjW3qTI/AAAAAAAABcQ/ReHIoSEdM3E/s320/51GretchenBalletLineup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568191496893999410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within 5 minutes she was volunteering to show the other girls how it's  done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqYiqwrI/AAAAAAAABcI/fK-OScFhLH4/s1600/51GretchenBalletVolunteer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqYiqwrI/AAAAAAAABcI/fK-OScFhLH4/s320/51GretchenBalletVolunteer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568191493990695602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they all dressed up as Belle, her favorite princess this week, and  acted out the story.  OMG.  SERIOUSLY?  Yes.  It was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqIaZQuI/AAAAAAAABcA/hEbX1pI2MKw/s1600/52GretchenBalletPrincessDress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqIaZQuI/AAAAAAAABcA/hEbX1pI2MKw/s320/52GretchenBalletPrincessDress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568191489661027042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So basically, thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella had testing at her school a few weeks ago &amp;amp; we got the results  back.  She is doing so well in school.  I'm so proud of her.   I'm so  grateful for her teachers.  I'm so grateful for her school.  I'm SO  GRATEFUL I don't home school her.  I know that's the best choice for  some people, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;not  us&lt;/span&gt;.  If I were teaching my child....it would be bad.  But since  all I have to do is help with her homework, it's PERFECT.  I still feel  like I'm involved with her education, but I don't really have to do  anything.  Ta da!  Genius child that still has a relationship with her  mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While volunteering in her class this week, I came across a number of  Safety Tips the kids had written themselves:&lt;br /&gt;-Always swim with a buddy.&lt;br /&gt;-Never stand on a swivel chair.&lt;br /&gt;-Don't say bad words to a police man (one of my favorites.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home, I overheard Ella say in a dramatic voice, "Safety Tip  #7:  Never say, 'You are bad!!!' to your sister."  Wise choice, my  darling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad end of our week was that a friend from church had a fire at her  condo.  Julie (mother to the infamous biting victim John John) arranged  for us to go over and help a bit yesterday.  It was awful.  There was a  huge hole in her roof.  There was insulation and ceiling bits and broken  glass and ash EVERYWHERE.   We wore masks and helped pull all her  daughters clothes and bedding and stuffed animals out to distribute to  volunteers to wash.  I've never seen anything like it.  I've been lucky  enough not to be in any fires.  It was crazy.  As soon as I walked in  the door, I started crying (I know, I'm a wimp, but it was HORRIBLE.)   If anyone has a broken heating lamp in their bathroom, do me a favor and  get it fixed.  Also, make sure you have renters insurance.  Say prayers  for my friend too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's us.  What about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4923111500135598712?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4923111500135598712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4923111500135598712' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4923111500135598712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4923111500135598712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/01/seriously-cutest-thing-ever.html' title='Seriously?  Cutest Thing Ever.'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TUYwqjW3qTI/AAAAAAAABcQ/ReHIoSEdM3E/s72-c/51GretchenBalletLineup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-3961363634826567512</id><published>2011-01-23T18:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T18:11:53.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Week Alone</title><content type='html'>Colby went out of town last Monday to attend a tradeshow &amp;amp; be all  networky and stuff.  He just got back a few hours ago.  Seven days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First it was great!  There were WAAAAY less dishes.  I didn't have to  cook a nice dinner every night (not that it happens every night, but a  lot of the time I try).  The house stayed cleaner.  The TV wasn't on all  night.  I could watch whatever I wanted.  I was ALL OVER IT.  I was  cocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started to get tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got a HUGE job and stayed up working every night till 11.  Then a  toddler snuck into my bed every night and coughed in my face for three  hours till I finally gave in and rallied enough to pour her a bowl of  cereal and turn PBS kids on.  (Praise to PBS kids.  You don't know how  much I appreciate the break you give me.)  Then I was in charge of way  too much crap last week (craft for my mom's group, because of course I'm  the craft leader, right?  Young Womens fundraiser straightened out.   Volunteering in Ella's class, etc.)  Not to mention the rush job and 16  sketches I whipped out.  TIRED. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad Colby's back.  Right now HE'S the one yelling at the girls  to clean up their room, not me.  And HE'S the one doing PJ duty (an hour  early, I might add.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I also did carpool.  I love the kid we do carpool with.  So  does Ella.  And Gretchen.  Gretchen often shows her love by swatting him  in the face and kicking him, but he's nice enough to let it slide (we  have lots of talks with Gretchen about showing our friends we love them  with kindness.  Not flirtatious slapping.)  While we were in the car,  Ella said that there are three bad kids in her class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt; They're not "bad" sweetie,  they just make bad choices sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Carpool Kid:&lt;/span&gt;  That's right.   Satan gets in their head and tells them to be bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ella:&lt;/span&gt;  Satan must get in my  sister's head A LOT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The "devil made me do it" attitude makes me crazy.  Dude people, you  make your OWN decisions.  But this was too funny, I had to share.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, if any of you ever get a chance to burn a whole Christmas Tree in a  bonfire, you should TOTALLY DO IT.  But seriously?  Make sure you've  got at least 50' of clearance on all sides.  We did this for our youth  activity this week.  It was AMAZING.  Nothing like a little pyromania to  help bond the kids, right?  Ella was excited about the s'mores (or  "smudges" as she thought they were called).  The kids were excited about  roasting Starburst (did you know about this trend?  It's sweeping the  nation, apparently.  I didn't try them, but supposedly they're  fabulous.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to round out the week, Ella had an ice-skating activity with the  Girl Scouts yesterday.  It was the first time for both the girls, and  the first time in about 20 years for me.  How do you think it went? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we are all cute and Ready For Anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRhokf8I/AAAAAAAABb4/iHtS6zt6gTc/s1600/41IceSkatingBefore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRhokf8I/AAAAAAAABb4/iHtS6zt6gTc/s320/41IceSkatingBefore.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565562134632628162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is how it went.  Gretchen's "help me!" pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRHq9OHI/AAAAAAAABbo/L39uBgZBelU/s1600/43GretchenReallyHangingOn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRHq9OHI/AAAAAAAABbo/L39uBgZBelU/s320/43GretchenReallyHangingOn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565562127663315058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the "No, Seriously, Help Me" pose:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRX3T4RI/AAAAAAAABbw/fAMnBW_URqo/s1600/42GretchenHangingOn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRX3T4RI/AAAAAAAABbw/fAMnBW_URqo/s320/42GretchenHangingOn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565562132010098962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella was quite the sport.  She went around three times (veeeeeryyy  slowly while holding on to the side.  But still, three times.)  Gretchen  and I went around twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZQxpt6cI/AAAAAAAABbg/TlnS9FxOEqg/s1600/44EllaHangingOn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZQxpt6cI/AAAAAAAABbg/TlnS9FxOEqg/s320/44EllaHangingOn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565562121752537538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we stopped and had snacks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZQ9vrGPI/AAAAAAAABbY/la3PpGnNG-c/s1600/45Snacks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZQ9vrGPI/AAAAAAAABbY/la3PpGnNG-c/s320/45Snacks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565562124998744306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, it was SO FUN hangin' with the girl scouts.  They kept  coming up to Gretchen &amp;amp; offering to hold her other hand (I had one  hand already).  One particularly sweet girl said, "Do you know what?   I'm living the girl scout law right now.  I'm helping others."  That's  right, sweetie.  (SO CUTE, right?  Love it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was our week, what about yours?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-3961363634826567512?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/3961363634826567512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=3961363634826567512' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/3961363634826567512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/3961363634826567512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/01/week-alone.html' title='The Week Alone'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTzZRhokf8I/AAAAAAAABb4/iHtS6zt6gTc/s72-c/41IceSkatingBefore.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6479646788765534027</id><published>2011-01-16T19:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-16T19:50:29.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now We Love The Yankees</title><content type='html'>Gretchen caught a cold last week that has slowly lingered.  We had a slow week trying to take it easy and get better.  Just when I thought things were looking up, I got hit with it Saturday morning.  (I think it's a combination of not enough sleep and Gretchen's fabulous open-mouth kisses.  Thanks sweetie.)  Colby took the girls sledding yesterday morning and I slept in.  Till one p.m.  It was AMAZING.  Like I was in college.  Also, apparently I was tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make it up to the girls in a way that wouldn't require much effort on my part (three cheers for laziness!!!) I let the girls do my makeup.  It started out nice.  Then it got a little less nice.  Then came the face painting sticks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1SbuMklI/AAAAAAAABaw/8p3kUTDECR8/s1600/21FacePaintMom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1SbuMklI/AAAAAAAABaw/8p3kUTDECR8/s320/21FacePaintMom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989293016486482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the mustache was a nice touch.  Thanks girls.  (See Gretchen's little hand putting the finishing touches on me?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, she wasn't left out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1SO86dMI/AAAAAAAABao/8VqjcD5hDHY/s1600/22-FacePaintMomAndGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1SO86dMI/AAAAAAAABao/8VqjcD5hDHY/s320/22-FacePaintMomAndGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989289588552898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the days when she was so sweet and quiet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO2ioQbv7I/AAAAAAAABbI/VJPqmogOeWg/s1600/23-BabyGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO2ioQbv7I/AAAAAAAABbI/VJPqmogOeWg/s320/23-BabyGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562990670770847666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like she &amp;amp; Ella have switched personalities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO2iukpVqI/AAAAAAAABbQ/Lj97zR_c2TY/s1600/24-CrazyElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO2iukpVqI/AAAAAAAABbQ/Lj97zR_c2TY/s320/24-CrazyElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562990672466237090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were in California, Poppa Randy (my dad) gave us a box of amazing old photos.  His dad died when he was about 12.  His parents divorced before that, so he didn't know his father very well.  He looked up his paternal grandmother in the 80's and got back in touch with that side of the family.  She gave him a box of TREASURES. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing that I never knew my Grandpa, but that I love him so much.  Look how handsome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1RqAAwVI/AAAAAAAABaQ/_h_AVNUrmKo/s1600/25-BillieDeeReynoldsSrPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1RqAAwVI/AAAAAAAABaQ/_h_AVNUrmKo/s320/25-BillieDeeReynoldsSrPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989279669436754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma got married at 17 (right?  Correct me if I'm wrong...)  Look at this picture.  I'm pretty sure this is what she's thinking:  I'M GETTING MARRRRRRRIED!!!!!!!!  Hee hee hee!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1EIsTefI/AAAAAAAABaI/Y_wfWkrFIOU/s1600/26-BillieDeeReynoldsAndJoEllenPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1EIsTefI/AAAAAAAABaI/Y_wfWkrFIOU/s320/26-BillieDeeReynoldsAndJoEllenPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989047390108146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me that Billie Dee was a Big Man On Campus.  She was sooooo in love.  But it didn't work out.  And she didn't like to talk about him much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1D_22YuI/AAAAAAAABaA/FahQKUqhGYY/s1600/27-BillieDeeJoEllenHoldingRandyInFrontOfCar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1D_22YuI/AAAAAAAABaA/FahQKUqhGYY/s320/27-BillieDeeJoEllenHoldingRandyInFrontOfCar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989045018419938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finding these pictures is a small miracle.  That Dad thought to find his Grandma after 40 years of separation.  That she was still alive.  That she kept all these mementos and passed on these pictures to him, and now to us.  We would never have seen these!  (They made Adrianne cry.  Ha ha, crybaby.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1DXfKAdI/AAAAAAAABZ4/gMNUjXjBtkc/s1600/28-BillieDeeAndMomQuestionMarkHoldingBabyRandy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1DXfKAdI/AAAAAAAABZ4/gMNUjXjBtkc/s320/28-BillieDeeAndMomQuestionMarkHoldingBabyRandy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989034181624274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above:  I think this is Billie Dee with his Mom, I know they're holding my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below:  The back of the picture has this cryptic message, "Grandmother on right.  Reba (I'm assuming she's the one on the left) married Sleepy."  Look at those dresses.  Isn't this picture gorgeous????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1DM8IF-I/AAAAAAAABZw/wSTcgAoUKKI/s1600/29-GrandmotherRightRebaMarriedSleepy-GirlsOnPorch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1DM8IF-I/AAAAAAAABZw/wSTcgAoUKKI/s320/29-GrandmotherRightRebaMarriedSleepy-GirlsOnPorch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989031350343650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adrianne &amp;amp; I have both made goals to do more family history work, so this was all so very fortuitious.  We'd gotten onto the excellent church genealogy site new.familysearch.org.  You can search for an ancestor (because of privacy, it's got to be someone who's passed away) and it'll link you in to see work that other people in the church have done on that line (if you have other LDS family members, that is).  It is FASCINATING.  And let me tell you, we have some serious geneology buffs on both sides of my family (Aunt Bonnie has allegedly traced us back to Adam &amp;amp; Eve).  A lot of the work that she's done is now being put online by another family member.  Just messing around, Adrianne &amp;amp; I followed one line back to THE KING OF FRANCE, circa 1200.  Adrianne and I looked at eachother and said in as simpering a voice as we could muster, "I always knew I was a princess!"  (Sorry Brooke Shields, we are totally mocking you.  Because yes, if we all go back far enough, we're all princesses.)  (Did anyone else see that "Who Do You Think You Are" show with her family history?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night we were telling Dad about it.  He said, "You know, you're great great Grandpa was in the NY Yankees."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OMG, that's WAY cooler than being a descendant of &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlemagne"&gt;Charlemagne&lt;/a&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know, right? That's like the GOLDEN AGE of baseball.  Back when they wore knickers.  So much cooler."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we're totally Yankee fans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1Ciki6OI/AAAAAAAABZo/6HsFL-bIrvE/s1600/30-WilliamReynoldsNewYorkYankeeEMAIL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1Ciki6OI/AAAAAAAABZo/6HsFL-bIrvE/s320/30-WilliamReynoldsNewYorkYankeeEMAIL.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562989019977148642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are LDS and haven't gone onto &lt;a href="https://new.familysearch.org/en/action/unsec/welcome"&gt;new.familysearch.org&lt;/a&gt;, DO IT TODAY!  (But you need your membership # to get an account.  So if you don't have it, see your ward clerk and DO IT NEXT WEEK!  Then call you grandma and get some birth and death dates of your great grandparents.  Then GO TO TOWN!!!  So fun!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you aren't LDS, there's also a fabulous family history site called &lt;a href="https://www.familysearch.org/"&gt;FamilySearch.org&lt;/a&gt;.  It's FREE!!!  And it's amazing.  I love &lt;a href="http://lds.org/?lang=eng"&gt;our church.  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6479646788765534027?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6479646788765534027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6479646788765534027' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6479646788765534027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6479646788765534027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/01/now-we-love-yankees.html' title='Now We Love The Yankees'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TTO1SbuMklI/AAAAAAAABaw/8p3kUTDECR8/s72-c/21FacePaintMom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6506308946565807592</id><published>2011-01-09T20:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T20:07:06.302-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Roundup!</title><content type='html'>Hello Friends and Family!  We kind of dropped off the face of the planet  for a few weeks.  But rest assured, we're alive and sassy (well, Ella  and Gretchen are.  Colby and I are mostly just alive...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was  your Christmas?  Ours was good.  We enjoyed Uncle Aaron &amp;amp; Aunt B's  hospitality in SoCal.  But we did NOT enjoy the non-stop rain.  Or that  Adrianne and Mike and the Duffys got evacuated out of the house &lt;a href="http://duffydoings.blogspot.com/2010/12/more-bell-canyon-flood-and-mud.html"&gt;because  the neighborhood was flooding&lt;/a&gt;.  (Dude!)  Ella really wanted to go  to the Getty Museum again and I wanted to take the girls to play in the  sand at the beach, but alas, neither happened.  We were officially  rained out.  But at least it finally stopped.  Just in time for us to  pack up and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't all a soggy mess, Aaron &amp;amp; B's  house was super fun (as always) and we watched movies, played video  games &amp;amp; played and played and played with cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND  GRETCHEN TURNED THREE!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Chuckee Cheeses.  (As she'll tell  you if you ask her age.  "I'm three at Chuckee Cheese's.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I  love about this picture is that Super Fun Uncle Mike is holding  Gretchen upside-down, and Grandma Diana is trying so hard not to freak  out!  Look at her hand.  "Uhhhhh...Mike???!?!?!"  (Love you Mom!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAN1PVBiI/AAAAAAAABZg/LrGXBAr443w/s1600/1-UncleMikey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAN1PVBiI/AAAAAAAABZg/LrGXBAr443w/s320/1-UncleMikey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397665060324898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High  Fives for blowing out the candles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAJJ2LOMI/AAAAAAAABZY/EvAC28GHNww/s1600/2-BlewOutCandles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAJJ2LOMI/AAAAAAAABZY/EvAC28GHNww/s320/2-BlewOutCandles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397584692623554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awwww....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAJCE1YZI/AAAAAAAABZQ/x2QhvPCrSw4/s1600/3-BirthdayCakeCuteness.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAJCE1YZI/AAAAAAAABZQ/x2QhvPCrSw4/s320/3-BirthdayCakeCuteness.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397582606623122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  is the Cinderella Wedding Dress (as seen on clearance at the Disney  Store after Halloween).  Gretchen's new nickname is "Bridezilla".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAI3mQfEI/AAAAAAAABZI/-CGMjX9rLHc/s1600/4-PrincessAgain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAI3mQfEI/AAAAAAAABZI/-CGMjX9rLHc/s320/4-PrincessAgain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397579794021442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nana  Joy totally won the horse race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAImpTBtI/AAAAAAAABZA/RSe8qGdW7OQ/s1600/5NanaJoyTheHorsewoman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAImpTBtI/AAAAAAAABZA/RSe8qGdW7OQ/s320/5NanaJoyTheHorsewoman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397575243368146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sisters  doing sister-things together.  (I couldn't tell you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what&lt;/span&gt; they're doing, but they're  entertained...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAIaxtvVI/AAAAAAAABY4/CTPUvw8G7cg/s1600/6-Sisters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAIaxtvVI/AAAAAAAABY4/CTPUvw8G7cg/s320/6-Sisters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397572057447762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clifford!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_zHWflWI/AAAAAAAABYw/8HoeilXUrF8/s1600/7-Clifford.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_zHWflWI/AAAAAAAABYw/8HoeilXUrF8/s320/7-Clifford.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397206065747298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  apparently we didn't get any Christmas Pictures.  But rest assured,  Santa came, the voice-changer toy he brought was a hit, we all laughed  at Ella and Gretchen's Robot Voices, and then it was promptly hidden so  that we didn't go crazy.  They also got other stuff.  I'm hoping we'll  remember it all to do Thank Yous.  If we don't and you're reading this,  "Thank you for the present!  That was so nice!"  (So heartfelt, I know.   Also, as my extended Christmas Gift to you, don't worry about sending  me any Thank Yous.  I gave you a gift because I love you.  Lets just  leave it at that...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poppa Randy brought the girls GIGANTIC  GINGERBREAD MEN to decorate.  There may or may not still be one on our  kitchen counter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_zEc6sVI/AAAAAAAABYo/knyWH3wMlYI/s1600/8-GingerbreadElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_zEc6sVI/AAAAAAAABYo/knyWH3wMlYI/s320/8-GingerbreadElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397205287383378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_y0h8ssI/AAAAAAAABYg/L3p00F4t7qM/s1600/9GingerbreadGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_y0h8ssI/AAAAAAAABYg/L3p00F4t7qM/s320/9GingerbreadGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397201013519042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colby  asked for and got a bunch of camera equipment for Christmas.  Merry  Christmas to both of us!  He gets new toys, and I get lovely photos of  our girls.  Just messing around he got these two gems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_yj0NCRI/AAAAAAAABYY/7LE_n74mHds/s1600/10-ColbyShotofElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_yj0NCRI/AAAAAAAABYY/7LE_n74mHds/s320/10-ColbyShotofElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397196526684434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_yg_-VHI/AAAAAAAABYQ/J0tBEGQbbpQ/s1600/11-ColbyShotofGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSp_yg_-VHI/AAAAAAAABYQ/J0tBEGQbbpQ/s320/11-ColbyShotofGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560397195770745970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2nd week of January Friends!  Love love love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6506308946565807592?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6506308946565807592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6506308946565807592' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6506308946565807592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6506308946565807592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2011/01/roundup.html' title='Roundup!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TSqAN1PVBiI/AAAAAAAABZg/LrGXBAr443w/s72-c/1-UncleMikey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1703740010636175541</id><published>2010-12-12T20:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T20:45:17.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BIG SIGH OF RELIEF</title><content type='html'>I'm so happy.  We made it through last week with it's massive To-Do list  and the four Christmas parties.  Now I can sit back and relax (and  course you know by "relax" I mean run around and finish everything I  need to do before we leave for Uncle Aaron's on Friday, right?  And  figure out how to fit all of Christmas + four suitcases into our  trunk.)  Still, this week was pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I got another freelance job from my favorite client, a Hidden Picture  puzzle of kids in Singing Time.  And it's a puzzle proposal that I sent  to them November of last year.  So it's totally an Apryl Stott Original,  written and illustrated.  Hooray for me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I've listened to the Christmas Mix cd so much this week that the girls  know the words to the songs (now it's time to make a NEW mix cd!)   And  Colby got to listen to it every time he was in my car.  In case anyone  ever thought that we share the same taste in music, apparently we  don't.  And apparently all I like is, "Lame emo crap."  Whatevs.  He's  the one who said "Our Song" was Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us  Apart".  That's like the ORIGINAL emo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The First Graders at Ella's school had a "Winter Performance".  We  showed up 5 minutes late.  It was over 5 minutes after that.  It was  only TEN MINUTES LONG!!!  This should be the new standard for school  performances.  Except we should get there in time.  (Poor Ella was so  nervous about the performance.  Did she have a speaking part?  No.  She  was supposed to sing "Jingle Bells" with the rest of the first grade.   That's it.  And stand there.  Apparently she does NOT have a stage  career in her future.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Our new Family Performance Art Project (what, you don't have one of  those?) is to put pictures of Colby into unsuspecting friends picture  frames when they're not looking (you know, when they invite us over for  dinner &amp;amp; are nice and naieve enough to leave us in a room  unsupervised).  Our friends had a frame hung up in their living room  with the original model-family (the picture the frame came with).  We  replaced it with a nice 8x10 of Mr. Stott.  It's been 24 hours.   Apparently they haven't noticed yet.  I'll give it a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the best thing about this past week?  It's DONE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's YOUR Family Performance Art Project?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1703740010636175541?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1703740010636175541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1703740010636175541' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1703740010636175541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1703740010636175541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/12/big-sigh-of-relief.html' title='BIG SIGH OF RELIEF'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1437368762986392015</id><published>2010-12-05T21:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T21:45:06.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and so the holidays begin....</title><content type='html'>Ella made us this handy little map for our Thanksgiving trip.  We  totally followed it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxvEdDWUDI/AAAAAAAABX0/9s1MYxc0WPo/s1600/1EllaMap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxvEdDWUDI/AAAAAAAABX0/9s1MYxc0WPo/s320/1EllaMap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547430963322441778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  drive was so cold.  How cold?  When Colby went to wash the back window  at McDonalds/Gas Station stop (as seen on map above), the water froze  before he could clean off the window.   That, my friends, is too cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We  enjoyed a stay at Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa's house.  Baby Skye &amp;amp; Baby  Kait are BFF-Cousins, and Gretchen loved them so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsw54w4UI/AAAAAAAABXs/BkbjCs59MNo/s1600/2Munchkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsw54w4UI/AAAAAAAABXs/BkbjCs59MNo/s320/2Munchkins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547428428442034498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My  favorite part of this pic isn't Gretchen's "Intense" face, it's Kait  jumping on the bed inches from Skye's head.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxswfZrDzI/AAAAAAAABXk/gnYRI5NEvm4/s1600/3GretchenAndGirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxswfZrDzI/AAAAAAAABXk/gnYRI5NEvm4/s320/3GretchenAndGirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547428421332307762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We  had a few fun activities, the coldest being a trip to Temple Square.   Here Grandpa holds the babies, who are probably wondering what possessed  us to drag through sub-freezing temperatures to look at....Christmas  lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxswBue44I/AAAAAAAABXc/2ArvXGtcU3I/s1600/4GrandpaAndGirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxswBue44I/AAAAAAAABXc/2ArvXGtcU3I/s320/4GrandpaAndGirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547428413366526850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxswPHFw6I/AAAAAAAABXU/Bguf38AsURA/s1600/5FamilyPicture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxswPHFw6I/AAAAAAAABXU/Bguf38AsURA/s320/5FamilyPicture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547428416959398818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella's  Primary asked for a picture of her for a craft they're making.  I can't  find a good one!  She's constantly doing stuff like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsv3DlvDI/AAAAAAAABXM/lnbrRvP9kfA/s1600/6ThanksgivingBar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsv3DlvDI/AAAAAAAABXM/lnbrRvP9kfA/s320/6ThanksgivingBar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547428410502265906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa,  Thanksgiving is SO AWESOME, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsMuvDUxI/AAAAAAAABXE/_J7NhBK6c4U/s1600/7GrandpaAtTable.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsMuvDUxI/AAAAAAAABXE/_J7NhBK6c4U/s320/7GrandpaAtTable.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547427806973219602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes,  yes it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsMHD-daI/AAAAAAAABW8/VgwyVeiAqIU/s1600/8ThanksgivingEatin%2527.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsMHD-daI/AAAAAAAABW8/VgwyVeiAqIU/s320/8ThanksgivingEatin%2527.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547427796323562914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We  tried to take a family picture for Great Grandpa.  Here's the best one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsLehbGmI/AAAAAAAABW0/sh-UxX4mj3E/s1600/9GreatGrandkids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsLehbGmI/AAAAAAAABW0/sh-UxX4mj3E/s320/9GreatGrandkids.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547427785441221218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  here's the 2nd best one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsKUcigUI/AAAAAAAABWs/oBubvWDHgR4/s1600/10Aftermath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsKUcigUI/AAAAAAAABWs/oBubvWDHgR4/s320/10Aftermath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547427765556511042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now  we get to prepare for this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsJ7XH64I/AAAAAAAABWk/aluM26O6mUo/s1600/11Christmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 89px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxsJ7XH64I/AAAAAAAABWk/aluM26O6mUo/s320/11Christmas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547427758822910850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  friends, let me tell you, it's been a little crazy here.  Yesterday  BEFORE NOON we'd:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Had a major temper tantrum on the walk to  Breakfast With Santa (Ella!  Not Gretchen!  She doesn't do it often, but  when she does WATCH OUT!!!  I promptly dragged her home and left her  with Dad.  Why was she so upset?  She didn't like how baggy her new  tights were.  I understand that baggy tights can be frustrating, my  darling child, but REALLY!?!?!?!?)  And so....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-....Gretchen and I  enjoyed Breakfast With Santa with our peeps.  Donuts and OJ, Booya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Did  the free craft at Home Depot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Went to the church for a baptism&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ran  to the store because there were no refreshments and theYW were supposed  to provide them!  Ahhhhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Set up refreshments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Sighed  with relief and checked to see when we could all go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But  we didn't go to bed, instead we went home and cleaned and watched Doctor  Who and cleaned and went to a church Christmas Party.  And how many  church Christmas parties are there this year?  Three.  THREE!!!  Next  up, the Relief Society Christmas Dinner.  Oh my word, people!  This is  not keeping things simple! Plus on Friday is Ella's school Christmas  program, plus Girl Scouts party, plus the school's "Holly Fest".  No one  can accuse us of letting Christmas get away un-celebrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  week I'm trying to ship out my Christmas Mix Cd-Presents, Christmas  Cards &amp;amp; Christmas Mailers.  WISH ME LUCK.  What are YOU trying to  get done this week.  Because OMG, we have 20 days left!!!  (Don't worry,  it's really not that bad.  This is the last bit of stuff I have to do  &amp;amp; then I'm DONE!  Yay!)  (And yes, I realize I do this all to  myself.  I can only blame myself.   It's all good.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - I have  to tell you what Gretchen did yesterday.  She was wearing her Sleeping  Beauty dress (of course), and as I tucked her in for her nap she said,  "No mom!  No blanket.  Like Sleeping Beauty."&lt;br /&gt;"Doesn't Sleeping  Beauty use a blanket?"&lt;br /&gt;"No.  Like this," she said, covering only her  feet.  I obliged and then she said, "No Mom.  I need flowers."  I handed  her some silk flowers we have (they have a very girly room).  She  grasped them in her hands and laid down the sleep, looking just as  dramatic as this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPx2ipqJ7gI/AAAAAAAABX8/evDUDOu2Obo/s1600/12LadyofShallotAnne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPx2ipqJ7gI/AAAAAAAABX8/evDUDOu2Obo/s320/12LadyofShallotAnne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547439178683903490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And yes, this is a screenshot of Anne of Green Gables, where Anne  reenacts "The Lady of Shallot".  The drama runs deep.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOOD LUCK this week!  Lets all try real hard to say "No" when anyone  asks us to do anything else, and spend more time at home.  Because  really, we don't NEED to do all this stuff, right?  Ok!  (Yeah, like  I'll really listen to my own advice!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1437368762986392015?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1437368762986392015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1437368762986392015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1437368762986392015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1437368762986392015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/12/and-so-holidays-begin.html' title='and so the holidays begin....'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TPxvEdDWUDI/AAAAAAAABX0/9s1MYxc0WPo/s72-c/1EllaMap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5602883630146700067</id><published>2010-11-21T21:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T21:51:18.121-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancy Pants</title><content type='html'>A wonderful thing happened again.  Ella's school threw another dance!!!  Hooray!!!  Remember &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJcTg5emI/AAAAAAAAA98/rFRxy6ACUBs/s1600-h/25Dancers.jpg"&gt;last years&lt;/a&gt;?  Watching kids dance to Michael Jackson is so entertaining, they should make a TV show about it.  I would watch that on hulu (and not just because I've run out of things to watch and have moved onto teen Korean soap operas.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAY2N7n-I/AAAAAAAABWc/ubs-pz-jDZQ/s1600/1EllaGretchenDancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAY2N7n-I/AAAAAAAABWc/ubs-pz-jDZQ/s320/1EllaGretchenDancing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542242718303625186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, there was another Conga Line.  Woot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAXqbgD3I/AAAAAAAABWU/JL2c06W70OU/s1600/2CongaLine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAXqbgD3I/AAAAAAAABWU/JL2c06W70OU/s320/2CongaLine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542242697959444338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAXAzeqTI/AAAAAAAABWM/5fZ6ujL2A78/s1600/3DancingWithFriends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAXAzeqTI/AAAAAAAABWM/5fZ6ujL2A78/s320/3DancingWithFriends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542242686785726770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAW0ero4I/AAAAAAAABWE/52xWTCfeIE8/s1600/4RunningTheFloor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAW0ero4I/AAAAAAAABWE/52xWTCfeIE8/s320/4RunningTheFloor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542242683477271426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAWhFZjKI/AAAAAAAABV8/-n17Bhso5vk/s1600/5GretchenRunningTheFloor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAWhFZjKI/AAAAAAAABV8/-n17Bhso5vk/s320/5GretchenRunningTheFloor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542242678270954658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With staying up dancing till the crack of 8:30 pm, you'd think Gretchen would want to sleep in a little.  But no.  She woke up at 5:30 on Saturday morning.  Which means I got to take a SUPER CRABBY KID with me on a DAY OF FUN!  Ella's girl scout troop had gathered supplies for the animal shelter.  We dropped all the donations off and got a grand tour.  Usually the shelter is full of an overwhelming amount of pitbulls, pitbulls and more pitbulls, but this time there was an actual variety!  There was even a weiner dog (that had lost 21 lbs since being rescued.  Dude!  That was one fat weiner dog!) and a dalmation.  Awwww!  (Nothing against pitbulls.  They just seem to be the dog that needs the most rescuing.  Poor things.)  Here's Gretchen communing with the puppies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_ifH6c3I/AAAAAAAABV0/OQWlMIRnehc/s1600/6GretchenAndPuppy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_ifH6c3I/AAAAAAAABV0/OQWlMIRnehc/s320/6GretchenAndPuppy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542241784391431026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Ella literally jumping up and down, she's so excited about the dogs.  (I made her stop, don't worry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_iD7wt4I/AAAAAAAABVs/fqG7PudoFIc/s1600/7JumpingForPuppies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_iD7wt4I/AAAAAAAABVs/fqG7PudoFIc/s320/7JumpingForPuppies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542241777092704130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the shelter tour, we went to an indoor inflatable toy place. (Does that even make sense?  You know what I mean, don't you?)  Gretchen really enjoyed the ball pool.  It was just a baby pool filled with balls, so it wasn't as scary as the 3' deep ones where nasty grossness can get lost there.  Just after I took this picture, guess what she said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_h-ktrDI/AAAAAAAABVk/aYGeJfU0RWg/s1600/8BallPit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_h-ktrDI/AAAAAAAABVk/aYGeJfU0RWg/s320/8BallPit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542241775653858354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom!  Where's my gum!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, we found it.   And I made sure all gum was properly disposed of.  (I didn't even REALIZE she had gum in her mouth!  Surprise!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snowed on Friday night.  The weather reports had prepared me for a foot of snow on the valley floor.  I think we may have gotten two inches.  It was nice.  Pretty, but quickly melting.  We got to walk around in it a bit.  Ella observed that when you walk on snow it, "...sounds like someone is farting."  That's right, sweetheart.  Now lets go make some hot chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week we're making the trek out to Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa's house.  I'm attempting to finish all the Utah Stott Christmas Presents before we leave.  Part of that is my annual Christmas Photo Ornament gift for Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa.  I'm not going to show the REAL one, just the ones that didn't make the cut:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_hl_OKtI/AAAAAAAABVc/ywAV3RDqoOk/s1600/9ChristmasPosing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_hl_OKtI/AAAAAAAABVc/ywAV3RDqoOk/s320/9ChristmasPosing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542241769054153426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh for cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_hAoogxI/AAAAAAAABVU/W4aFaOwBINc/s1600/10ChristmasPosing2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOn_hAoogxI/AAAAAAAABVU/W4aFaOwBINc/s320/10ChristmasPosing2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542241759027299090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5602883630146700067?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5602883630146700067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5602883630146700067' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5602883630146700067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5602883630146700067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/11/dancy-pants.html' title='Dancy Pants'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TOoAY2N7n-I/AAAAAAAABWc/ubs-pz-jDZQ/s72-c/1EllaGretchenDancing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1563646506641600610</id><published>2010-11-14T22:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T23:05:41.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movin' On Up</title><content type='html'>Hello Friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how we moved and I had to &lt;a href="http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/04/second-floor-living-without-yard.html"&gt;scrounge around for kitchen supplies because ours were buried in the back of the storage unit&lt;/a&gt;?  And how we've been eating with plastic silverware for eight months?  WE NOW HAVE SILVERWARE!!!  I know.  Don't be intimidated by our awesomeness.  I threw away all the plastic knives and most the plastic forks (you served us well, but now you must leave).  But I kept the spoons.  They are at a premium.  We always run out of spoons.  And, get this, we have a SILVERWARE DRAWER ORGANIZER!  I know, we are so fancy.  No more kitchen towel-lined drawer full of random plasticware.  Ella opened the drawer in search of a spoon and said, "Wow!!!"  Yeah.  It is pretty great.  Every time I eat cereal I get a little thrill now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple months ago Auntie Amber &amp;amp; Uncle Dan gave us their old TV.  And by old TV, I mean 62" flat screen behemoth.  It wasn't completely working, but rather than throwing it out they offered it to us if we wanted to deal with fixing it.  It's finally fixed (Colby is awesome), and it literally takes up half our living room.  It is MASSIVE.  But let me tell you, I've never had so much fun watching TV.  Who says that things can't bring you happiness.  TV has totally brought our family together this week.  Ella &amp;amp; Colby were bonding over the 4-wheeler racing game.  We watched the first four episodes of Doctor Who, Season Five.  It is lovely. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our little apartment just keeps getting fancier and fancier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are you excited about?  Thanksgiving is so soon, can you even believe it?  I know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1563646506641600610?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1563646506641600610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1563646506641600610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1563646506641600610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1563646506641600610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/11/movin-on-up.html' title='Movin&apos; On Up'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1876777446772383718</id><published>2010-11-07T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T20:33:38.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire Station Private Tour</title><content type='html'>Hello family and friends!  How was your week?  Ours was pretty good.   The obvious highlight in our lives was the fire station.  Julie, mother  of John John, set up a Private Tour for us.  (Does that sound exciting?   Oh yes, it WAS exciting.  And Gretchen was doing a lot of flirting.   What can I say, she likes a man in uniform.  Especially a super friendly  man who can cook her mac&amp;amp;cheese in his Fire Station Kitchen.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took over 150 photos, but edited it down to about 80.  One thing you  may know about me, I am EXTREMELY picture happy.  But I can't help it.   Cause look at how cute they were.  Awwwwwwww!  (Aren't Gretchen &amp;amp;  John John the sweetest thing ever when she's not trying to sever one of  his fingers with her teeth?  I know!  His fireman outfit is classic.)   (Don't worry, I'm only going to make you look at 4/80 fire station  pictures.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0IB7bqgI/AAAAAAAABUk/khk05Da2vj8/s1600/36-HoldingHands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0IB7bqgI/AAAAAAAABUk/khk05Da2vj8/s320/36-HoldingHands.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537021948180802050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah.  She liked driving that engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0TTo2O5I/AAAAAAAABVM/r1tFjtaKJ3I/s1600/31GretchenDrivingFireTruck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0TTo2O5I/AAAAAAAABVM/r1tFjtaKJ3I/s320/31GretchenDrivingFireTruck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537022141913250706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The firemen were so great with our loud, rambunctious children. They  let each one "drive" an engine, put the headphones on them and talked to  them through the mouthpiece (until Gretchen &amp;amp; Cora thought it'd be  fun to scream in it.  That game didn't last long...), dressed up in all  their gear and had the kids hug them.  So sweet.  (Did you know that  we're supposed to tell our kids to give fire men hugs if they see them  in a fire?  Kids get scared of the firemen when they're decked out in  all their gear &amp;amp; will hide in a burning house to get away from  them.  That makes me want to cry just thinking about it.  That's why  they do so many tours and school visits, to teach kids that they're not  Darth-Vader-Breathing-Monsters when they have their masks on.)  Turns  out that TWO of the firemen were single.  We're totally sending Auntie  Krista over there with a plate of Thank-You-Cookies from us.  (You can  thank Becky for finding that tidbit out.  She casually asked, "Y'all are  so great with kids!  Do you have kids of your own?"  That sneaky,  clever Becky...  Krista, get on it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the whole group getting cute with the fire fighters.  Gretchen  was really into making that awesome face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0JgC2NgI/AAAAAAAABVE/T7a1opDEFLw/s1600/32OnFireTruck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0JgC2NgI/AAAAAAAABVE/T7a1opDEFLw/s320/32OnFireTruck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537021973444834818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See?  She did it in every group picture I took of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0IcNm18I/AAAAAAAABUs/Cm7ueAGyOWM/s1600/35OnFireTruckAgain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0IcNm18I/AAAAAAAABUs/Cm7ueAGyOWM/s320/35OnFireTruckAgain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537021955236353986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that she doesn't want me to see her face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0JcDy-hI/AAAAAAAABU8/A9FO_nkAy10/s1600/33-FaceDrawing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0JcDy-hI/AAAAAAAABU8/A9FO_nkAy10/s320/33-FaceDrawing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537021972375075346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that she thinks she's hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0JELfMxI/AAAAAAAABU0/nM22t1GwzwM/s1600/34GretchenWithDrawing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0JELfMxI/AAAAAAAABU0/nM22t1GwzwM/s320/34GretchenWithDrawing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537021965964882706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lest you think we ignored our other child this week, I will share that  Ella had a sleepover with her BFF while her parents went to something  called "Fantasies In Chocolate".  I don't know what exactly that is, but  I want to go to there.  We didn't go to there, but we still had fun.   But we were too busy painting nails and watching movies to take any  pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colby and I finally sat down and made some decisions on local issues  so we could vote on Tuesday.  It made me so proud when we left the  junior high with our "I Voted"  stickers.  I've been reading "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Little-Bee-Novel-Chris-Cleave/dp/1416589643/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;qid=1289189455&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Little  Bee&lt;/a&gt;" for my online book club and that's put some things into  perspective.  We are really lucky to live in a democratic country.  What  a blessing.  Even if things aren't overwhelmingly great right now, and  by no means is our country perfect, it's still pretty much amazing.  And  no matter how crazy I think my life is sometimes, it could be SO  MUCH WORSE!  (I'm not sure if I can recommend Little Bee to you yet or  not.  I have to finish it first.  It's given me two nightmares already.   It is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;intense&lt;/span&gt;.  Beautifully  written, but intense.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe Thanksgiving is in a few weeks?  Did you remember to  change your clocks this morning?  Share with us!  We want to hear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1876777446772383718?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1876777446772383718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1876777446772383718' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1876777446772383718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1876777446772383718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/11/fire-station-private-tour.html' title='Fire Station Private Tour'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TNd0IB7bqgI/AAAAAAAABUk/khk05Da2vj8/s72-c/36-HoldingHands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-9106067681139932601</id><published>2010-10-31T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T10:09:18.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Patch Overload!!!</title><content type='html'>Hey!  Look what I found under the front passenger seat of my car!  Hello camera!!!  (It pays to vacuum out the car after a road trip!  Lots of fun surprises.)   And I think I took a total of 5 pictures the whole time we were in California.  Go me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQXLM7QI/AAAAAAAABUc/mxSjS1ErWT4/s1600/1-PlayingDS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQXLM7QI/AAAAAAAABUc/mxSjS1ErWT4/s320/1-PlayingDS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252421532675330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only time we'll ever get Ella on The Matterhorn:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQW_b9lI/AAAAAAAABUU/DC3LosePLu4/s1600/11-OnTheRide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQW_b9lI/AAAAAAAABUU/DC3LosePLu4/s320/11-OnTheRide.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252421483329106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing in Line:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQBHoo4I/AAAAAAAABUM/joZkWDlmkRw/s1600/12-InTheLine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQBHoo4I/AAAAAAAABUM/joZkWDlmkRw/s320/12-InTheLine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252415612134274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one can accuse us of avoiding Halloween.  We have officially had our fill of the pumpkin patch.  There are 9 pumpkins residing in our 860 square food apartment.  Here's some pics from our last trip (really kids, that's the LAST TIME we go this year.  REALLY.)  We took all the kids in the corn maze.  It was better than our first corn maze attempt, on the field trip with Ella's class.  That time it took us over 35 minutes to get through (which is better than the kindergartners, who had to be rescued when they didn't come out after 90 minutes...  Isn't it fun being able to pinpoint the EXACT moment you've psychologically scarred your child?)  It was also better than when Jaime took Gretchen &amp;amp; her son a few weeks ago, and half way through the maze Gretchen started screaming, "I don't want this corn maze!  I want a DIFFERENT CORN MAZE!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dPwSAFxI/AAAAAAAABUE/1ONPBbhp2PE/s1600/13-CornMaze.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dPwSAFxI/AAAAAAAABUE/1ONPBbhp2PE/s320/13-CornMaze.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252411092211474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing she's cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dA52fzJI/AAAAAAAABT8/-cf5cVl84XU/s1600/14-GretchenPumpkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dA52fzJI/AAAAAAAABT8/-cf5cVl84XU/s320/14-GretchenPumpkins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252155963165842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when she makes this face:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dAqDu8dI/AAAAAAAABT0/v4pzuv8oeB8/s1600/15-GretchenOnPumpkins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dAqDu8dI/AAAAAAAABT0/v4pzuv8oeB8/s320/15-GretchenOnPumpkins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252151723717074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella left her vampire cape in Jaime's car, so she was a witch last night for the Trunk Or Treat (which is when all the cars in the parking lot hand out candy to the kids instead of going door to door).  But here's Gretchen in all her Garden Gnome Glory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dAW-wMwI/AAAAAAAABTs/OpN3rWAv_3Y/s1600/16-WitchAndGnome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dAW-wMwI/AAAAAAAABTs/OpN3rWAv_3Y/s320/16-WitchAndGnome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252146602554114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were only about 20 cars at the Trunk or Treat, so the rest of the time was spent in the back of the Party Van with John John.  And apparently the best way to ensure a peaceful playdate is to give each child a bag of candy to eat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2c_4kR-1I/AAAAAAAABTk/rlWv0XwNZ_s/s1600/17-BackOfPartyVan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2c_4kR-1I/AAAAAAAABTk/rlWv0XwNZ_s/s320/17-BackOfPartyVan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252138438458194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For Ella's class I went in &amp;amp; helped decorate the pumpkin for the PUMPKIN DECORATING CONTEST.  But they haven't announced the winner.  We totally deserve the prize though, right?  The kids all contributed, either dabbing on the black paint or cutting up black felt to glue on the spider legs.  Oh for cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2c_-vFTKI/AAAAAAAABTc/CQ5FJs0V3dQ/s1600/18-SpiderPumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2c_-vFTKI/AAAAAAAABTc/CQ5FJs0V3dQ/s320/18-SpiderPumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534252140094377122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen got in on the pumpkin decorating action.  I gave her a marker and she went to town on her baby pumpkin patch pumpkins.  Look at how cute this little face is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2czDBo4EI/AAAAAAAABTU/KUeXpUMM2KQ/s1600/19-SmilingGretchenPumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2czDBo4EI/AAAAAAAABTU/KUeXpUMM2KQ/s320/19-SmilingGretchenPumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534251917907648578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's some more friends, drawn on the back....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cy12NnrI/AAAAAAAABTM/atXcZOFoLPY/s1600/20-LittleSmilingPumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cy12NnrI/AAAAAAAABTM/atXcZOFoLPY/s320/20-LittleSmilingPumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534251914370064050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she had me stick in these eyes and she drew the nose &amp;amp; mouth.  OH FOR CUTE, GRETCHEN!!!  (Ella painted that amazing witch pumpkin with the cop 'stash.  I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the mouth, but I prefer to think of it as a cop 'stash.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cyu1u8MI/AAAAAAAABTE/2znacgS4AWk/s1600/21-OrangePumpkinAndWitchPumpkin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cyu1u8MI/AAAAAAAABTE/2znacgS4AWk/s320/21-OrangePumpkinAndWitchPumpkin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534251912489005250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Grandpa Dennis asked me for a picture of our wedding, so I thought I'd throw this in too.  Remember this?  Yeah, I barely do.  That was a long time ago.  It's on a NEGATIVE.  Remember those?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cyQwCCqI/AAAAAAAABS8/8hNOvPXubuc/s1600/22-WeddingPortraitOnMorgan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cyQwCCqI/AAAAAAAABS8/8hNOvPXubuc/s320/22-WeddingPortraitOnMorgan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534251904412027554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cyPYck9I/AAAAAAAABS0/FaEogwrfHlY/s1600/23-LookingTowardsTheFuture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2cyPYck9I/AAAAAAAABS0/FaEogwrfHlY/s320/23-LookingTowardsTheFuture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534251904044667858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much else happening here.  Ella's completed level one on her Star Wars game (so her video game skillz have now surpassed mine).  Gretchen only shows an interest in potty training when she's in bed and supposed to be going to sleep, or in a public restroom.  What's going on with you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-9106067681139932601?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/9106067681139932601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=9106067681139932601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9106067681139932601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9106067681139932601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/10/pumpkin-patch-overload.html' title='Pumpkin Patch Overload!!!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TM2dQXLM7QI/AAAAAAAABUc/mxSjS1ErWT4/s72-c/1-PlayingDS.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5225013601700262312</id><published>2010-10-24T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T20:06:21.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Can Never Be Easy....</title><content type='html'>Hello Dear Friends And Family!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How y'all doin?  I can't find my camera, so you'll have to use your  imagination while I tell you some stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend you're looking at the girls in their Halloween Costumes.  Ella  is a vampire and Gretchen is a Lawn Gnome.  And yes, they both look  fantastic.  But Ella has a big scratch across her nose!  And under her  nose!  And on her chin!  Why???  Oh that's because within the first few  waking hours of our trip to California last weekend she FELL OFF A  TRICYCLE AND HAD TO GET FIVE STITCHES.  Poor Uncle Aaron felt so bad (it  being their tricycle and their park).  (Uncle Aaron!  It's not your  fault!)  So that was a nice introduction to the weekend.  (How do you  fall off a tricycle and need 5 stitches?  You go as fast as you can down  a hill with no brakes except your red cowgirl boots, panic, and pull  the handlebars in an futile attempt to stop.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now pretend you're looking at us at the family BBQ on Saturday night.   (You'll really have to pretend because I didn't take any pictures.  I  was too busy eating delicious sweet-potato fries dipped in fantastic BBQ  sauce.  Oh my word.  Drool.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an invisible picture of Ella holding her Pillow Pet Puppy.  Does  anyone you know and love watch Saturday Morning TV?  I'm not sure my  girls are even watching the crappy cartoons.  They focus purely on THE  AWESOME COMMERCIALS.  Ella has been asking for a Pillow Pet for  MOOOOOOOOOOONTHS.  And now her dream has come true!  Look at that smile  on her face!  Thanks Aunt B &amp;amp; Uncle Aaron!   Also on their list of  "Must Haves" is:&lt;br /&gt;Shoes Under!&lt;br /&gt;Sketchers! (For Gretchen)&lt;br /&gt;Moon Sand (NOOOOOOOOO.  Never.  Absolutely NOT!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now pretend we're meeting up with the Grandparents Stott and Cousins for  a fun pizza party.  Which is cut short when Ella falls AGAIN and busts  open the cut on her hand.  After drowning their hotel room in ear  piercing shrieks while I washed and re-bandaged it, we headed home to  get some rest before our trip to the Magical Kingdom.  And possibly bang  our heads on the wall in frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here's the obligatory million shots of us at Disneyland.  Oh!  Look  how much fun we're having!  Nothing like looking at other people's  vacation photos, right?  Whoooeeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We really did have a fun time at Disneyland.  And it's all thanks to  Anita the Super Mother In Law.  She make about 30 baby blankets to get  us all free tickets.  (We "contributed".  I think I sewed the border on  one.  I know, I'm super helpful like that.)  It was Anita's first time,  and she got to go with all her grandkids.  And about 50,000  other-people's-grandkids (who knew October would be so busy!?!?)  The  girls got to drive the Autopia cars TWICE, so it was a good day for  them.  And Gretchen joined to conga line during the parade.  Good times.  Maybe next time we can keep all the kids out of the ER (Britton, how's your head dude?  We were worried about you!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just because it's cute and I don't want to forget, here's two cute  things the girls did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella wants to know if ancestors that are boys are called "An-brothers".   Get it?  "AnSisters" and "AnBrothers"?  Awwwwww.  (This came after the  discussion that she is a 14th generation descendant of William Bradford,  first governor of the colonies.  She got a little pilgrim doll from  Nana Joy that she'd gotten on a trip with Grandma JoEllen.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen now says, "I hurt my feelings!"  whenever she's upset.  Except  it's more like this, "I HURT MY FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELINGS!!!!!!!" (said  with huge crocodile tears and huge mouth.  Also, if she can look in the  mirror while she cries it's an added bonus...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what we've been up to.  What about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5225013601700262312?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5225013601700262312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5225013601700262312' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5225013601700262312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5225013601700262312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/10/it-can-never-be-easy.html' title='It Can Never Be Easy....'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1232421956938416237</id><published>2010-10-10T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T18:00:20.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>6 Years Older and Wiser Too</title><content type='html'>Let's start this post off right.  With a fabulous picture of Gretchen Working It.  The church has a multi-purpose room with a stage on it (because that makes perfect sense, right?)  We have a playdate there every few weeks.  They kids spent about an hour dancing.  With no music.  Next time we're bringing costumes &amp;amp; seeing if we can hook up the AV system.  DANCE PARTAY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc418hWZI/AAAAAAAABSs/nVFilbTX0co/s1600/1GretchenDanceFever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc418hWZI/AAAAAAAABSs/nVFilbTX0co/s320/1GretchenDanceFever.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581824360372626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how last post I was complaining how much stuff I had to do?   Yeah.  I wasn't kidding.  I'm finally starting to wrap up the big projects (the biggest one was delivered last night to their FTP site at about 11:45 pm.  WOO HOOO!!!!!!)  And it's not just work keeping us busy, oh no!  We also had a SUPER FUN BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION!!!  Congratulations bestowed upon my wonderful, smart, amazing child.  To honor the special day we:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Brought special rainbow cupcakes to 1st grade topped with gummy bears....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc4j7IOlI/AAAAAAAABSk/hsroeTi8Jgc/s1600/2-EllaClassCupcakes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc4j7IOlI/AAAAAAAABSk/hsroeTi8Jgc/s320/2-EllaClassCupcakes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581819522693714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Went to the pet store and got a replacement fish.  (A navy blue Beta named "Dorothy"...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc4fGBwOI/AAAAAAAABSc/xpgkMwFeRnQ/s1600/3-PetStoreZoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc4fGBwOI/AAAAAAAABSc/xpgkMwFeRnQ/s320/3-PetStoreZoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581818226229474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-And met Krista, Dan &amp;amp; Amber for a dinner of Very Fancy Hamburgers (notice that they stuck us far away from all the other patrons. What tipped them off that we might be a little crazy???)  (Ella's been wanting to patronize the new hamburger place in town since they opened a year ago.  They have fake palm trees outside.  She was so happy to have her dreams come true.)  (You'll notice that Gretchen was indeed wearing a tiger suit to the pet store, and then meta-morphed into a butterfly princess for dinner...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcuwan6yI/AAAAAAAABSU/Avd4icpISyw/s1600/4-BirthdayDinner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcuwan6yI/AAAAAAAABSU/Avd4icpISyw/s320/4-BirthdayDinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581651077327650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Nothing creepy about this picture, right?) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcupipmFI/AAAAAAAABSM/oJfyFC_vJFo/s1600/5NotAtAllCreepy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcupipmFI/AAAAAAAABSM/oJfyFC_vJFo/s320/5NotAtAllCreepy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581649231943762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how our dear friend Jaime is the Queen of all hookups?  She came through again.  Free dinner at Claim Jumper!!!  (Seriously, you all need a Jaime.)  ICE CREAM SUNDAES!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcuYPMe7I/AAAAAAAABSE/f8NvF2-aoW0/s1600/6-ClaimJumperIceCream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcuYPMe7I/AAAAAAAABSE/f8NvF2-aoW0/s320/6-ClaimJumperIceCream.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581644586941362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's now officially Autumn.  We had a ton of crazy lightning and hail storms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcuIfinAI/AAAAAAAABR8/mLm8-X-8kUI/s1600/7WhatTheHail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJcuIfinAI/AAAAAAAABR8/mLm8-X-8kUI/s320/7WhatTheHail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581640360532994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hosted preschool for "D" day.  We didn't talk about WWII at all.  Instead we talked about dinosaurs, doctors, donuts, dancing, and dogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;(Midway through "D" day)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: &lt;/span&gt; Today we're learning about the letter "D"!  "D" makes the "duh-duh" sound.  Gretchen, what letter are we learning about today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GRETCHEN:&lt;/span&gt;  R!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME:&lt;/span&gt;  No!  We're learning about the letter "D"!  What sound does it make?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GRETCHEN:&lt;/span&gt;  SSSS-ssssss!  "D"!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME:&lt;/span&gt;  No!  "D" makes the "duh-duh" sound. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GRETCHEN:&lt;/span&gt;  NO!&lt;br /&gt;(Clearly she knows something we don't....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJct-3S7eI/AAAAAAAABR0/vvCvKdRVla0/s1600/8-Preschool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJct-3S7eI/AAAAAAAABR0/vvCvKdRVla0/s320/8-Preschool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526581637775814114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, today was the annual Primary Presentation at church.  All the kids did a program of songs and talks for Sacrament Meeting.  Here's MOST of Ella's (we ran out of memory on the camera!)  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5X21mX369ic?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5X21mX369ic?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1232421956938416237?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1232421956938416237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1232421956938416237' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1232421956938416237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1232421956938416237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/10/6-years-older-and-wiser-too.html' title='6 Years Older and Wiser Too'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TLJc418hWZI/AAAAAAAABSs/nVFilbTX0co/s72-c/1GretchenDanceFever.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-2639528516201844865</id><published>2010-09-19T20:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T20:23:52.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Di Da</title><content type='html'>A few months ago, some moms decided it'd be a great idea to start a  preschool group.  We made up a schedule and planned out a theme.  Then  we decided to wait till Fall to begin.  And then I sort of forgot about  it.  BUT OH SHOOT!  I was the first one to host preschool!!!   So  Gretchen had her first day of semi-real-shoot-from-the-hip preschool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of our activity for "A" day was to play with animals.  That didn't  take up enough time, so then we did dress-ups.  Here you see John John  cringing away from The Gretch (but still smiling in a  Hi-Gretchen-I-Love-You-Don't-Hurt-Me kind of way...)  Preschool finished  bite free (unfortunately, the same cannot be said of nursery today.   GRETCHEN.  Sigh.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPHxVnfoI/AAAAAAAABRs/mth3Bqnt34s/s1600/21-PreschoolCringe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPHxVnfoI/AAAAAAAABRs/mth3Bqnt34s/s320/21-PreschoolCringe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518826125799161474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We forgot to check the mail for a week, and there were LOTS of surprises  waiting for us!  The girls LOVE packages!  Thanks Auntie Terry &amp;amp;  Cousin Suzanne! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPCoV8xuI/AAAAAAAABRk/rqZJcxVdbqg/s1600/22-FunMail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPCoV8xuI/AAAAAAAABRk/rqZJcxVdbqg/s320/22-FunMail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518826037485291234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all summer work was dead.  Nothing.  My career was a desert  wasteland, complete with tumbleweeds and circling vultures.  That has  all changed.  I now have work with a vengeance.  So of course it's all  coming in at once.  The good news is that I will get paid.  Yay!  Also, I  used the time stuck at my computer to watch ALL FOUR SEASONS of DR.  WHO!  (Thanks Jennifer!)  (I am in love with this show.  It just keeps  getting better and better.  Though I will never again walk past a store  mannequin, angel statue or watch a reality show without cringing a  little.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was totally slammed working, of course, OF COURSE it's the week I  had a million commitments.  Saturday we took the girls from church to  Lake Tahoe.  It was the perfect beach day.  There were literally only 2  other people on our beach.  It was sunny, warm and wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPCC64q7I/AAAAAAAABRc/Xke6G9LMTUA/s1600/23-YWAtLake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPCC64q7I/AAAAAAAABRc/Xke6G9LMTUA/s320/23-YWAtLake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518826027439664050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPBaZ77AI/AAAAAAAABRU/GuGsjRBY0so/s1600/24-BeachPanoramic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPBaZ77AI/AAAAAAAABRU/GuGsjRBY0so/s320/24-BeachPanoramic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518826016564046850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The squirrels were making us crazy.  They were literally crawling into  the chip bag when we turned our back.  That is nasty.  I threw the chips  away in a fit of disgust.  I don't care if you are cute, YOU ARE ALSO  VERY GROSS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPBAGlDkI/AAAAAAAABRM/o_42OXbM-Y4/s1600/25-EvilLittleSquirrel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPBAGlDkI/AAAAAAAABRM/o_42OXbM-Y4/s320/25-EvilLittleSquirrel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518826009503534658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls decided it'd be super fun to bury each other.  I decided it'd  be super fun to guard our food and yell at rodents.  I also decided it'd  be super fun to only sporadically apply sunscreen.  Now I'm sportin' a  sweet sunburn on my shoulders &amp;amp; chest, complete with random  fingerprints where I DID apply sunblock.  Go me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPAjfbT8I/AAAAAAAABRE/ob7l79HeTaA/s1600/26-BuriedInSand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPAjfbT8I/AAAAAAAABRE/ob7l79HeTaA/s320/26-BuriedInSand.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518826001823125442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite being crazy, ridiculously busy, it was still a pretty good  week.  Here's hoping I have a little more time to breathe next week.   Deeeep breaths.  Deeeeep breaths.  It's all going to be ok.  (I need a  nap.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-2639528516201844865?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/2639528516201844865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=2639528516201844865' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/2639528516201844865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/2639528516201844865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/09/la-di-da.html' title='La Di Da'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TJbPHxVnfoI/AAAAAAAABRs/mth3Bqnt34s/s72-c/21-PreschoolCringe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4857027829968013524</id><published>2010-09-12T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T18:14:50.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Week That Was</title><content type='html'>Oh my friends, what a week.  Gretchen had some serious regression.  Remember how happy I was last week that she didn't bite John John.  Well she made up for it on our Thursday playdate.  WITH A VENGEANCE.  She bit him so hard.  Poor, poor Johnny.  There was blood.  There was crying.  There was spanks and time-outs and immediate departures.  Oh my baby, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear John John-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so So SO sorry that Gretchen has been using you as a chew toy.  You can totally bite her back next time.  I won't intervene.  (She deserves it!)  She really does love you.  Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beware of this cute face.  It is completely deceiving.  She bites (but apparently only sweet little boys named John...):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TI12Qt0MurI/AAAAAAAABQ0/RmDGVAeNFxo/s1600/10+-+CuteGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TI12Qt0MurI/AAAAAAAABQ0/RmDGVAeNFxo/s320/10+-+CuteGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516195148147243698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that horrible incident, the rest of the week was pretty ok.  My amazing friend Jaime invited me to see Smashing Pumpkins with her.  She called while I was at Mutual (like church youth group, for the uninitiated).  I asked if any of the girls would mind babysitting when we finished up.  They said, "Sure!" (because they are all nice, sweet, thoughtful girls and I love them all). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girls:&lt;/span&gt;  What concert are you going to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  Smashing Pumkins, isn't that great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girls: &lt;/span&gt; Who?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:  &lt;/span&gt;WHAT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girls:&lt;/span&gt;  No seriously, who?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  I am old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concert was great fun (except maybe for the 10 minutes base/drum solos, which were a little yawn inducing.  Drum solos = LAME.  Also, I am a "girl" and therefore unable to appreciate their "awesomeness".)  There were lots of drunk people to laugh at.  Good times.  Thanks Jaime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks also for this sweet ditty that's been bouncing around my head all week:  DESPITE ALL MY RAGE, I AM STILL JUST A RAT IN A CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGE!!!!!! (end flashback)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Jaime called to see if Colby wanted to go golfing.  So he went all day Friday.  For free.  With free lunch.  And then we had a pizza party at their house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN Jaime called to see if we wanted to tailgate with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FACT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT ME:  I've never seen a football game in my entire life.  Ever.  I went to one once in High School, but didn't actually watch it.  I, therefore, have never experienced a "Tailgate".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.  My.  Word.  I had the best initiation ever.  There was Tri-tip on the BBQ.  There was Rockband (literally on the tailgate).  IT.  WAS.  AWESOME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TI12Q5BHPrI/AAAAAAAABQ8/3q2y7yEUCvM/s1600/11-SeriousTailgate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TI12Q5BHPrI/AAAAAAAABQ8/3q2y7yEUCvM/s320/11-SeriousTailgate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516195151154200242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Colby let them know how much he appreciated their hospitality by  serenading them.  He left a BIG IMPRESSION on all the sweet children.   Parents can now thank Colby for their toddler's appreciation of  Rammstein. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2fnH6nlWQhw?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2fnH6nlWQhw?hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you just skipped over that video, I implore you.  GO BACK AND WATCH.  You won't be sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping next week is bite-free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you all should get a Jaime.  Seriously, she's great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4857027829968013524?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4857027829968013524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4857027829968013524' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4857027829968013524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4857027829968013524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/09/week-that-was.html' title='The Week That Was'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TI12Qt0MurI/AAAAAAAABQ0/RmDGVAeNFxo/s72-c/10+-+CuteGretchen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-101578445752464453</id><published>2010-09-05T17:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T17:17:47.420-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plum Delightful</title><content type='html'>Ella's first day of school came really early in the morning, so I didn't  quite get the standard First Day Of School Photo (you know the one,  where the child stands awkwardly posed in the outfit chosen for maximum  fashion impact while holding a large empty backpack and sack lunch,  stars/tears in their eyes, forced smile, etc....)  Instead we have a  Right After First Day Of School photo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupgaFgWI/AAAAAAAABQs/7y1ilYesnI8/s1600/1-EllaFriend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupgaFgWI/AAAAAAAABQs/7y1ilYesnI8/s320/1-EllaFriend.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513583134417191266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stars aligned for Miss Ella, she's sits right next to one of her  favorite friends in the world.  Here they are, smiling and perfectly  aware of how amazing they are.  They are freakin' FIRST GRADERS.  Boo  ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the obligatory, awkwardly posed first day of school photo, as  mentioned above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupZRvJnI/AAAAAAAABQk/EjAK-hXKAk4/s1600/2-FirstDayOfSchool.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupZRvJnI/AAAAAAAABQk/EjAK-hXKAk4/s320/2-FirstDayOfSchool.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513583132503123570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was strange to have so much time away from Ella this week.  I've been  reading friends blogs talking about how sad it is that their kids are  gone all day at school.  Will I feel that way when my time comes?  I  really value my "Alone Time".  Enough that if I'm in my room by myself,  the girls know to ask me, "Are you having 'alone time', or can I talk to  you?"  Alone time is so precious.  Maybe I won't value it as much when I  get more than 10 minutes a day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To celebrate our new school-week-lifestyle, Gretchen &amp;amp; I went on  some playdates.  Gretchen's favorite friend in the whole world is John  John.  She loves John John with a fierce 2.5 year old passion.   Sometimes, an overwhelming passion.  Have you ever heard the old adage,  "You hurt those you love the most?"  Gretchen must love John A LOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at how sweet they are, running scantily clad through the  sprinklers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupMLtbOI/AAAAAAAABQc/hfDzYzVFHjc/s1600/3-RunningThroughSprinklers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupMLtbOI/AAAAAAAABQc/hfDzYzVFHjc/s320/3-RunningThroughSprinklers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513583128988183778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eating the plums we picked from their neighbors front yard (they said it  was cool, we didn't steal them.  Really!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQuogs0WhI/AAAAAAAABQU/jS05Hbewi5Y/s1600/4-Gretchen%26Friend.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQuogs0WhI/AAAAAAAABQU/jS05Hbewi5Y/s320/4-Gretchen%26Friend.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513583117315889682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ella heard we'd been to John John's house without her, she was  upset.  Every time we go there, she plays spends her time playing on her  own and/or screaming at Gretchen &amp;amp; John John.  But apparently  that's the highlight of her day.  So Saturday she came with us to John  John's house to pick the plums, play by herself in the sandbox, and  scream at toddlers.  In a Tinkerbell costume, of course...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQuoQEjcfI/AAAAAAAABQM/_jx1p82U7fo/s1600/5-Sandbox.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQuoQEjcfI/AAAAAAAABQM/_jx1p82U7fo/s320/5-Sandbox.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513583112852042226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though Gretchen did leave a giant pinch mark across John John's chest  (NO JOHN JOHN!!! I DRIVE THE CAR!!!)  she did make a marked step towards  maturity.  I saw her leaning in frustration to bite him TWICE.  And  both times she stopped herself, contemplated her actions (mouth agape),  and pulled back.  Oh, my sweet, violent, darling girl!  So proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's our big news for the week.  Gretchen DIDN'T bite her friend.   What's your big news?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-101578445752464453?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/101578445752464453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=101578445752464453' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/101578445752464453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/101578445752464453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/09/plum-delightful.html' title='Plum Delightful'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIQupgaFgWI/AAAAAAAABQs/7y1ilYesnI8/s72-c/1-EllaFriend.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-8386814454795875609</id><published>2010-08-29T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T09:50:22.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Got It, Big Kid.</title><content type='html'>I just like to look at this picture &amp;amp; think about how much fun our trip was.  Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmtTuWyiI/AAAAAAAABPk/IyI15mHRhEc/s1600/2-OnBrooklynBridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmtTuWyiI/AAAAAAAABPk/IyI15mHRhEc/s320/2-OnBrooklynBridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512729978708871714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two very exciting things happened last week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Our dear friends had a new baby!  Hello Casper!  Welcome to the world!  We can't wait to meet you!  (Ella just asked if I was going to get a new tiny baby of our own.  No, we're not.  Sorry kid.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  And Lismarie and her family came to visit!  HOORAY!!!  They stayed at the Peppermill.  It was like another week of vacation for us.  We went to the pool two days in a row.  That pool is FANCY.  And the girls are both in love with James.  Come back friends!  We miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this week Ella started first grade.  I can't even believe it.  She has a Big Kid haircut.  And a Hello Kitty lunch box.   And a pudding pack (dessert is a requirement for your first week of school.  I hope she can open it herself.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmuFz7adI/AAAAAAAABP0/LB3gAa0W0oo/s1600/4-EllaPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmuFz7adI/AAAAAAAABP0/LB3gAa0W0oo/s320/4-EllaPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512729992154016210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen will be a Big Kid this week too.  Our friend Julie gave us a toddler bed (I can't remember if she got free on Craigs List or found on the side of the road.  She is one of my Free-Stuff Heroes).  I was going to spray paint it the same apple green as the crib, but Ella suggested we paint it black to match her bed.  I thought that was an excellent idea.  We picked up the paint and drop cloth at Home Depot yesterday, but ran out of paint half way through.  So I left it on the balcony.  And then it rained.  For the first time in two months.  Of course.  So now it's in a sodden, plastic wrapped heap leaned under the eave.  Oh well.  We'll deal with it tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmuUyke4I/AAAAAAAABP8/OUoUaTt-KE0/s1600/5-GretchenPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmuUyke4I/AAAAAAAABP8/OUoUaTt-KE0/s320/5-GretchenPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512729996174850946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how we have a "No Playing With Doors" rule at our house?  Well either do the girls.  I've told them the story of Uncle Ian's fingertip getting chopped off by a door.  It didn't scare them enough because this past Wednesday Gretchen's finger got smashed in the bathroom door.  And I think she may have lost her fingernail.  I can't even handle it.  She insists we keep a bandaid on it, and we've kept it smothered in "'Sporin" (her name for Neosporin).  Oh baby.  I hope I can keep you in one piece as you grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella has finally picked up on all the things we ask her to do.  But instead of doing them herself, she just dictates them back to Gretchen.&lt;br /&gt;-Gretchen, don't touch the TV!  Sit back!  Geesh, how many times do I have to tell you that?&lt;br /&gt;-Gretchen, pick up your toys!  How many times do I have to tell you?&lt;br /&gt;-Gretchen, are you going to listen to me?  Do I have to count?  One.  TWO.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THREE!!!!  Time out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing they're cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmtBPqjXI/AAAAAAAABPc/gcT3xNu4T2A/s1600/1-GretchenAdrianneReading.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmtBPqjXI/AAAAAAAABPc/gcT3xNu4T2A/s320/1-GretchenAdrianneReading.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512729973748305266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmt-d0bxI/AAAAAAAABPs/b5solDSg8vY/s1600/3-Cousins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmt-d0bxI/AAAAAAAABPs/b5solDSg8vY/s320/3-Cousins.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512729990182235922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmyoAzpOI/AAAAAAAABQE/TL3QcUpaL54/s1600/6-BabyPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmyoAzpOI/AAAAAAAABQE/TL3QcUpaL54/s320/6-BabyPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512730070054315234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-8386814454795875609?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/8386814454795875609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=8386814454795875609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8386814454795875609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8386814454795875609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-got-it-big-kid.html' title='You Got It, Big Kid.'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TIEmtTuWyiI/AAAAAAAABPk/IyI15mHRhEc/s72-c/2-OnBrooklynBridge.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1079168495285539688</id><published>2010-08-21T22:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T22:05:19.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did You Miss Us?</title><content type='html'>We pulled into our apartment complex at 5pm this evening.  And then we  thought, "Wow, our apartment is really, really crappy!"  We've been  spoiled, people.  SPOILED.  We've had a fun vacation.  And exhausting,  draining, three week extravaganza.  I know you don't care, but I'm going  to tell you anyway.  This is where we stayed:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Mom &amp;amp; Dad  Stott's&lt;br /&gt;2.  Angela's&lt;br /&gt;3.  My Grandpa's in Palm Desert&lt;br /&gt;4.  Aaron  &amp;amp;  B's&lt;br /&gt;5.  Alisa &amp;amp; Dave's&lt;br /&gt;6.  NEW YORK CITY!!!  WOOOOOOOT!&lt;br /&gt;7.   Back to Alisa &amp;amp; Dave's&lt;br /&gt;8.  Aaron &amp;amp; B's again&lt;br /&gt;9.  Grandma  Liz's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we get to open a pile of mail, unpack out evergrowing  pile of aquired junk, and find out WHERE THAT SMELL IS COMING FROM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How  did the whirlwind-vacation affect the girls?  Beautifully.  Gretchen no  longer asks for bottles (we didn't bring any on the trip.  And I was  only giving her water in them anyway.  She just likes to be a "baby".)   And as an added bonus, when she meets new people she asks, "Where's my  present?"  We're so proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colby and I went on our first vacation  without kids SINCE OUR HONEYMOON.  The first totally selfish, purely  for our enjoyment vacation.  And it was wonderful.  Shout out to Mom  &amp;amp; Alisa for watching the girls while we enjoyed life without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First  off, turns out we got the raddest hotel in NYC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpnfC0iMI/AAAAAAAABO8/MWwNURpV0GQ/s1600/Algonquin-Hotel3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpnfC0iMI/AAAAAAAABO8/MWwNURpV0GQ/s320/Algonquin-Hotel3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508088840087439554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  Algonquin was awesome.  We loved it.  And not only is it crap-full of  history (yes, I said, "Crap full of history"), but it was right in  midtown.  And it's where my agent's Dad proposed to her Mom.  Awwwww!   And I think it was on Sex &amp;amp; The City.  Awwwww!  Plus Dorothy Parker  hung out there.  A lot.  There was stuff about her ALL OVER THE PLACE.   Including this poem, which I love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On Being A Woman&lt;/span&gt;, by Dorothy Parker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it, when  I am in Rome,&lt;br /&gt;I'd give an eye to be at home,&lt;br /&gt;But when on native  earth I be,&lt;br /&gt;My soul is sick for Italy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why with you, my  love, my lord,&lt;br /&gt;Am I spectacularly bored,&lt;br /&gt;Yet do you up and leave  me- then&lt;br /&gt;I scream to have you back again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My teenage-self is  so getting this, right?  Relationships are HARD!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our dear  friends Martin &amp;amp; Melissa were kind enough to ditch their kid too and  join us for the weekend.  Melissa &amp;amp; I went to see this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpoBF0uYI/AAAAAAAABPE/YuiERW-c9sQ/s1600/promises_promises.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpoBF0uYI/AAAAAAAABPE/YuiERW-c9sQ/s320/promises_promises.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508088849226840450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KG0Pl-bfTvI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KG0Pl-bfTvI?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am  now a huge fan of Kristin.  Wow.  Seriously.  And "that gay dude from  Will &amp;amp; Grace, no the funny one..." was pretty great too.  Very  funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Colby did NOT join us for the Broadway Experience.  They  went to a movie instead.  Which was great, because I was not about to  pay $70 for him to complain, "Enough with the singing!!!" and get us  kicked out.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday we did the Grand Tour of New York.   Lots of lovely touristy experiences were enjoyed.  We took the subway to  Battery Park, walked through the Financial District, took the Staten  Island Ferry to get a better (and FREE, ha ha suckers who waited in line  for 2 hours and PAID to do it!) view of the Statue of Liberty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpdXVZHZI/AAAAAAAABOs/lFD9TSZMRwQ/s1600/staten-island-ferry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 158px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpdXVZHZI/AAAAAAAABOs/lFD9TSZMRwQ/s320/staten-island-ferry.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508088666219158930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then  we took the subway to the end of the Brooklyn Bridge and walked across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpeLnmLRI/AAAAAAAABO0/8iU1yF8p2mU/s1600/brooklyn-bridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpeLnmLRI/AAAAAAAABO0/8iU1yF8p2mU/s320/brooklyn-bridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508088680254156050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then  we went home and relived the whole day by watching Cloverfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's  where the Cloverfield Monster decapitated the Statue of Liberty:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCv0KA9QuI/AAAAAAAABPM/DR_xVjGmIz4/s1600/cloverfieldstatuewater.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCv0KA9QuI/AAAAAAAABPM/DR_xVjGmIz4/s320/cloverfieldstatuewater.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508095654850544354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's where our hapless heroes try to dodge the Cloverfield Monster  by hiding in the subway.  Uh oh guys!  Bad idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpc4Jr2mI/AAAAAAAABOk/EtZxmgHDW0E/s1600/CloverfieldSubway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpc4Jr2mI/AAAAAAAABOk/EtZxmgHDW0E/s320/CloverfieldSubway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508088657848556130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  their walk across the Brooklyn Bridge was a little more exciting than  ours, gosh darn it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpcdEnbXI/AAAAAAAABOc/LZl-ynkC3xI/s1600/CloverfieldBridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 199px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpcdEnbXI/AAAAAAAABOc/LZl-ynkC3xI/s320/CloverfieldBridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508088650579537266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good  times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed our trip so much that Colby &amp;amp; I have  decided to start, "living life and getting out of our bubble" a lot  more.  (Besides, our bubble smells right now.  Seriously, where is it  coming from!  I already emptied the fruit bowl &amp;amp; ran the garbage  disposal!!!  Apartments are gross!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1079168495285539688?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1079168495285539688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1079168495285539688' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1079168495285539688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1079168495285539688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/08/did-you-miss-us.html' title='Did You Miss Us?'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/THCpnfC0iMI/AAAAAAAABO8/MWwNURpV0GQ/s72-c/Algonquin-Hotel3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-8093459256449608108</id><published>2010-07-25T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T08:53:41.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Amazing Haircut</title><content type='html'>Ok, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SO SORRY&lt;/span&gt; that I neglected to post this on Tuesday.  I'll give you my glorious list of excuses in a few inches.  But for now, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;HERE YOU GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's us at the salon.  Yes, the whole family came.  And it may be the most thoroughly documented haircut the Stotts will ever see.  Ella needs a room full of mirrors.  She was making faces at herself THE.  WHOLE.  TIME.  It was awesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExY5BqhyXI/AAAAAAAABOM/733IRfegh9I/s1600/31LongHair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExY5BqhyXI/AAAAAAAABOM/733IRfegh9I/s320/31LongHair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866981835131250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at that long, beautiful hair.  So long.  Sniff.  So beautiful.  Sniff.  Ella contemplating what's about to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExY4yRsIgI/AAAAAAAABOE/Fuj3R3rD4hA/s1600/32GoodbyeHair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExY4yRsIgI/AAAAAAAABOE/Fuj3R3rD4hA/s320/32GoodbyeHair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866977704419842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2D02koNfW0k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2D02koNfW0k&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella told me later, "When she first cut my hair, I was a little sad inside.  I still wanted to cut it though."  (So mature, my little princess.  Colby says that I'm projecting my feelings onto Ella.  Which is probably true.  But I can't help it.)  Look at the expression on her face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYegnD5gI/AAAAAAAABN8/xaiJLKTXXjc/s1600/33Huh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYegnD5gI/AAAAAAAABN8/xaiJLKTXXjc/s320/33Huh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866526285620738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for a great first haircut!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYeH3PIaI/AAAAAAAABN0/g476tm_-M08/s1600/34PicWithCeleste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYeH3PIaI/AAAAAAAABN0/g476tm_-M08/s320/34PicWithCeleste.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866519642579362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYd9I0z3I/AAAAAAAABNs/Q90Rxooy_q0/s1600/35BigGirlHaircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYd9I0z3I/AAAAAAAABNs/Q90Rxooy_q0/s320/35BigGirlHaircut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866516763561842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's what else went on this week, just in case you thought I was slacking off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Flew to Las Vegas for my friend's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!)  Her husband surprised her by flying me out.  She was a little TOO surprised.  She thought it was an intervention or something.  It wasn't.  It was just a birthday.  Hilarity ensued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Took a 7am flight back to Reno.  Got home at 8:30.  Spent Quality Time with the girls.  Took a nap. Cleaned out the car.  Packed.  Drove to Girls Camp with Ella.  Got lost.  Found it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Spent the night in the car (I was too tired to deal with a tent.  I was also too tired to not sleep well.  I woke up in the morning &amp;amp; thought, "Whoa, that went WAY better than I was expecting.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Helped clean up the camp, load up the car, and drove home.  On the way home, realized we were late to our good friend's birthday party.  Quickly we ran home, got the present and showed up in all our non-showered camping glory to the birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Came home and slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew.  I'm still tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, we're starting our Ridiculously Long Trip, which will start out with a visit to see Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa's new house (YAY!), and end with a trip across the country.  Wish us luck.  Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Ella at Girls Camp.  They all thought she was cute.  She thought it was awesome.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYdJwu0mI/AAAAAAAABNk/QBkgXBuDp7U/s1600/36HighOnHilltop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYdJwu0mI/AAAAAAAABNk/QBkgXBuDp7U/s320/36HighOnHilltop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866502972297826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYciYwGjI/AAAAAAAABNc/BmiitFBp_pU/s1600/37RedBoots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExYciYwGjI/AAAAAAAABNc/BmiitFBp_pU/s320/37RedBoots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497866492402735666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-8093459256449608108?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/8093459256449608108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=8093459256449608108' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8093459256449608108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8093459256449608108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/07/amazing-haircut.html' title='The Amazing Haircut'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TExY5BqhyXI/AAAAAAAABOM/733IRfegh9I/s72-c/31LongHair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5402000388738244687</id><published>2010-07-18T20:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T20:07:22.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Goldilocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TEO7e3-ujnI/AAAAAAAABNU/s06hbuyej-0/s1600/21LittlePeasantGirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TEO7e3-ujnI/AAAAAAAABNU/s06hbuyej-0/s320/21LittlePeasantGirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495442109419654770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The girls found our bandannas from the  Trek and thought it'd be super fun to play "Little Peasant Girls".   This is how you play:  Put bandannas on head.  Accessorize bandannas  with headband and Mrs. Potato Head feet.  Talk with as much of an  English Accent as a five and two year old can muster.  Talk about tea  and cleaning.  Loose interest within 5 minutes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week's theme:  Recovery.  It was so nice to sit in one place and  not worry about packing or stocking up on snacks.  In fact, one day we  didn't leave the house once.  And boy was it H.O.T. this week.  It only  added to our lethargy.  It didn't, however, lead to Gretchen sleeping  in.  She's right back on her regular 6:15 a.m. schedule.  And yes, it  sucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our first trip of the year to Lake Tahoe yesterday.  It was  absolutely lovely.  More so because it wasn't my idea, I just got to go  along for the ride.  I loaded up the girls with arm floaties, stuck them  on inflatables and swam out to the deep end of the Designated Swimming  Area.  I don't know if you've heard, but Lake Tahoe is pretty much  amazing.  We could see the rocks deep down below us.  We watched overly  confident youth jump off rocks.  We did not get our toes pinched by  crawdads (Ella was diligent on crawdad watch.)  Gretchen laughed and  laughed when we got bounced up and down by a boat wake.  It was a  perfect day.  And my legs actually do have some pigment now.  Pink.   They got sunburned.  I got cocky and said, "My legs are so white, they  don't even get BURNED anymore."  Ha ha.  Jokes on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is the day I've been dreading.  Sometimes I'm so sentimental  that it's painful.  Ella has never had her hair cut.  NEVER.  Except for  that one time she got gum stuck in it.  (The peanut butter mostly  worked, but we ended up cutting out a little bit.)  But tomorrow we're  taking her to the salon and cutting off about 10".  TEN INCHES.  She  wants it cut to just below her shoulders, and we're going to donate it  to &lt;a href="http://www.locksoflove.org/"&gt;Locks of Love&lt;/a&gt;.  We had a  little talk about it, how if you get cancer your hair falls out because  of the medicine.  Uncle Noel's hair fell out, but he didn't wear a wig.   Ella wants to know why he didn't.  (I'm sure he totally could have  pulled that look off, right?)  She's so excited about her haircut.  SO  EXCITED.  I'm not.  But after brushing tangles out again this evening, I  decided I need to let go.  And it's for a good cause.  Sniff.  A good  cause.  (Cue mocking of overly sentimental mom now....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are you doing this week?  Sitting in your PJ's for the whole  day?  Call us up!  We'll join you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5402000388738244687?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5402000388738244687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5402000388738244687' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5402000388738244687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5402000388738244687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/07/goodbye-goldilocks.html' title='Goodbye Goldilocks'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TEO7e3-ujnI/AAAAAAAABNU/s06hbuyej-0/s72-c/21LittlePeasantGirls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-8011997855429237415</id><published>2010-07-11T20:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T20:59:26.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Only Twenty Six Miles Across The Sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVmd5FJI/AAAAAAAABNM/7rJfw1_GH_s/s1600/01Shadows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVmd5FJI/AAAAAAAABNM/7rJfw1_GH_s/s320/01Shadows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492858097774433426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella's getting pretty good at taking pictures, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we got lots of practice in on our sailing trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ACTION SHOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVY-jCaI/AAAAAAAABNE/mscTRaE-ue8/s1600/02JoyRope.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVY-jCaI/AAAAAAAABNE/mscTRaE-ue8/s320/02JoyRope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492858094153304482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had so So SO much fun on our sailing trip.  I don't think that Dad  did.  He was stuck fixing an oil leak and patching a busted hose, buried  in the depths of the boat's armed with only duct tape and zip ties to  get us back home.  BUT HE DID IT.  He is amazing.  Like MacGuyver, but  with better design skills.  And Nana Joy kept us fat and happy with  delicious dinners and snacks.  They were such good hosts.  We love and  appreciate them so much.  And sailing is so much fun, especially when you can turn off the motor and let the wind push you.  (And especially when someone else is in charge.  I like that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVB_wr9I/AAAAAAAABM8/yRISkUixEr0/s1600/03Faces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVB_wr9I/AAAAAAAABM8/yRISkUixEr0/s320/03Faces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492858087984377810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella's favorite parts were:&lt;br /&gt;-"driving" the dinghy&lt;br /&gt;-using Grandpa's binoculars&lt;br /&gt;-feeding the fish hot dog buns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNU84pzcI/AAAAAAAABM0/lG4OtpItWdA/s1600/04CaptailElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNU84pzcI/AAAAAAAABM0/lG4OtpItWdA/s320/04CaptailElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492858086612389314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNUccfoTI/AAAAAAAABMs/oKnaiNhN1B4/s1600/05Boat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNUccfoTI/AAAAAAAABMs/oKnaiNhN1B4/s320/05Boat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492858077904347442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM_pQ432I/AAAAAAAABMk/znw_X0LfMrg/s1600/06AvalonStreets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM_pQ432I/AAAAAAAABMk/znw_X0LfMrg/s320/06AvalonStreets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857720568078178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM_eEKehI/AAAAAAAABMc/mABFSy8OJgs/s1600/07EllaAndNanaJoy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM_eEKehI/AAAAAAAABMc/mABFSy8OJgs/s320/07EllaAndNanaJoy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857717561915922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM-0vAmtI/AAAAAAAABMU/m6POtPNyQUQ/s1600/08SmilingSisters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM-0vAmtI/AAAAAAAABMU/m6POtPNyQUQ/s320/08SmilingSisters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857706467334866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen's favorite parts were:&lt;br /&gt;Spending uninterrupted hours charming the snacks off of Grandpa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM-Y9e9UI/AAAAAAAABMM/CBkIjsXNn1Y/s1600/09GretchenGrandpa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM-Y9e9UI/AAAAAAAABMM/CBkIjsXNn1Y/s320/09GretchenGrandpa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857699011851586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....getting him to buy her ice cream...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM-AsjfNI/AAAAAAAABME/yGRmwin6GrM/s1600/10GretchenIceCream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqM-AsjfNI/AAAAAAAABME/yGRmwin6GrM/s320/10GretchenIceCream.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857692498394322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMi47WRtI/AAAAAAAABL8/PVqYDvF6pV8/s1600/11EllaBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMi47WRtI/AAAAAAAABL8/PVqYDvF6pV8/s320/11EllaBeach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857226556491474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and playing at the beach.  Oh how they love playing at the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMiUJ35_I/AAAAAAAABL0/JWMpC2LNVDg/s1600/12GretchenBeach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMiUJ35_I/AAAAAAAABL0/JWMpC2LNVDg/s320/12GretchenBeach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857216685303794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMhycUSpI/AAAAAAAABLs/FnjihJ2vnOs/s1600/13GrinningGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMhycUSpI/AAAAAAAABLs/FnjihJ2vnOs/s320/13GrinningGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857207635856018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMhmCt5NI/AAAAAAAABLk/6whiHO0oMUI/s1600/14PortWindowElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMhmCt5NI/AAAAAAAABLk/6whiHO0oMUI/s320/14PortWindowElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857204307256530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We enjoyed our trip so much.  SO MUCH.  We can't wait to visit Grandpa &amp;amp; Nana Joy when they're cruising the Azores Islands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our trip was mostly spent in Catalina enjoying Grandpa and Nana Joy's company, but we had Tuesday to spend with cousins and Aunties and Grandma.  Adrianne painted Gretchen's toenails rainbow.  So fancy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMhatN73I/AAAAAAAABLc/b0cTWXpaLHo/s1600/15GretchenPedicure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMhatN73I/AAAAAAAABLc/b0cTWXpaLHo/s320/15GretchenPedicure.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492857201264291698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby Teagan didn't appreciate her pedicure as much.  It's ok, Baby Teagan.  Maybe in a few years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMPdfOD5I/AAAAAAAABLU/v0OB4AqwmKQ/s1600/16TeagansToes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMPdfOD5I/AAAAAAAABLU/v0OB4AqwmKQ/s320/16TeagansToes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492856892773240722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we rushed back to Reno for the most exciting wedding of the year.  CONGRATULATIONS AMBER AND DAN!!!!  Amber did a wonderful and amazing job planning her wedding.  She put so much thought into all the little details, but still kept it light and fun and happy.  Look at these adorable Flower Girl outfits.  I know.  Ridiculously cute.  The cousins on both sides walked (and pranced and skipped and ran) down the aisle to the tune of "Flight of the Bumblebee".  Seriously, ridiculously cute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMPLeNfdI/AAAAAAAABLM/-G0v38ctous/s1600/17FlowergirlTrainRide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMPLeNfdI/AAAAAAAABLM/-G0v38ctous/s320/17FlowergirlTrainRide.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492856887937170898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amber killed some time before the ceremony taking a train ride with her nephew and nieces.  Angela (2nd from back, in white sweater) made ALL THE SKIRTS and matching flowers for the girls hair.  And Krista's adorable bridesmaid dress.  And she looks hott in that awesome outfit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMOsTgHgI/AAAAAAAABLE/kSmBeIr8URQ/s1600/18WeddingTrainRide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMOsTgHgI/AAAAAAAABLE/kSmBeIr8URQ/s320/18WeddingTrainRide.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492856879570755074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Gretchen letting Uncle Dan know that even though he's technically married, her love runs strong and deep.  It's an undying passion that will result in coy looks and giggles for years to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMOHm6fbI/AAAAAAAABK8/dXlBYAjExiM/s1600/19StillTimeForOurLove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMOHm6fbI/AAAAAAAABK8/dXlBYAjExiM/s320/19StillTimeForOurLove.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492856869720063410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flower Girl Meeting.  Look how official Baby Skye is with her hands on her hips.  She knows what's going down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMN6pMQJI/AAAAAAAABK0/o2hQ5DOJKxk/s1600/20FlowerGirlConsulations.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqMN6pMQJI/AAAAAAAABK0/o2hQ5DOJKxk/s320/20FlowerGirlConsulations.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492856866239955090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have more, better, cuter pictures on Colby's camera.  Which means I will probably never post them here, since I am lazy and his camera is a REAL camera (which intimidates me).  But boy did we love seeing our cousins.  Especially Baby Skye and Baby Kait.  They're both getting so big.  And so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much laundry do I have now?  About 20 loads worth.  Don't worry, I have a plan.  And I'll even go grocery shopping tomorrow so that we can eat.  It's all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-8011997855429237415?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/8011997855429237415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=8011997855429237415' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8011997855429237415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8011997855429237415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/07/only-twenty-six-miles-across-sea.html' title='Only Twenty Six Miles Across The Sea'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TDqNVmd5FJI/AAAAAAAABNM/7rJfw1_GH_s/s72-c/01Shadows.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-7548054397875810427</id><published>2010-06-27T10:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T10:23:27.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Is DONE!!!!</title><content type='html'>Yes!  We did it!  Walked 18 miles while pulling a handcart with a bunch  of kids dressed as pioneers!!!!  Everyone survived.  The girls had a  great time with their aunties &amp;amp; babysitters.    I'll tell you all  about it, but first you have to look at these pictures of Ella at her  friend's birthday party.  (Her friend has now set the bar oh-so-high for  all future birthday parties.  They went to the salon school and got  styled.  It was fabulous.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Ella getting her hair washed in the big sink. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd92kHkvHI/AAAAAAAABKs/rmMufbnXjKg/s1600/31Salon1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd92kHkvHI/AAAAAAAABKs/rmMufbnXjKg/s320/31Salon1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487493047336090738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lineup (they're all so serious!  And blond!):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd92d8dskI/AAAAAAAABKk/wISeK5d1Ix0/s1600/32SalonLineup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd92d8dskI/AAAAAAAABKk/wISeK5d1Ix0/s320/32SalonLineup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487493045678879298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, what would you like done today?  Oh, princess curls?  What a  surprise!  (PS - it took Ella's poor stylist about 45 extra minutes to  blow dry ALL HER HAIR.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9qYEKPHI/AAAAAAAABKc/OiHkDy6t36s/s1600/33SalonStyling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9qYEKPHI/AAAAAAAABKc/OiHkDy6t36s/s320/33SalonStyling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492837942115442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty Pretty nails:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9p0inPfI/AAAAAAAABKU/QlhR3A9DcE8/s1600/34SalonNails.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9p0inPfI/AAAAAAAABKU/QlhR3A9DcE8/s320/34SalonNails.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492828406169074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't see it, but she's got lavender makeup, nail polish and pretty  lip gloss on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e)  {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9pZ1Jc1I/AAAAAAAABKM/rbnEHTo4wcM/s1600/35EllaFront.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9pZ1Jc1I/AAAAAAAABKM/rbnEHTo4wcM/s320/35EllaFront.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492821236151122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO PRETTY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9o2WAHGI/AAAAAAAABKE/ZjiYEolE_48/s1600/36EllaPrettyHair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9o2WAHGI/AAAAAAAABKE/ZjiYEolE_48/s320/36EllaPrettyHair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492811710274658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, on the completely opposite side of the spectrum, here's us on  our pioneer journey.  We were at the back of the 2nd company for two of  the three days.  The first day was exhausting.  We had to be up at 4am  to get to the church at 5am to leave the church at 6am to get to the  trek site by 9am and didn't end up going to bed till 10pm.  (Did you  follow that?  It involved many cranky people and lots of sitting around  and waiting.)  We finally started pulling our carts at around 11am, then  stopped again after about a mile to be "raided".  The sheriff took all  the contraband (cell phones with no service, unauthorized snacks,  makeup, etc.)  We pulled 7 miles the first day (I say "we", but really I  mostly just walked behind and "supervised".  I was really good at it.   The kids were supposed to do most the pulling so they could "learn  though sacrifice". Ha ha, suckers!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So pretty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9oWD6QuI/AAAAAAAABJ8/sagSUtBdZEY/s1600/37Walking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9oWD6QuI/AAAAAAAABJ8/sagSUtBdZEY/s320/37Walking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492803044459234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had 8 kids in our "family".  Four boys and four girls.  They were all  superior and awesome.  I loved all of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9U9wt2vI/AAAAAAAABJ0/rjH6f9ceaLI/s1600/38StoppedHoldingCart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9U9wt2vI/AAAAAAAABJ0/rjH6f9ceaLI/s320/38StoppedHoldingCart.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492470103988978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9Uaq6QZI/AAAAAAAABJs/PYT14Hu2WxU/s1600/39PioneerSisters.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9Uaq6QZI/AAAAAAAABJs/PYT14Hu2WxU/s320/39PioneerSisters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492460684394898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9UI1OV9I/AAAAAAAABJk/RVOexnf6b0s/s1600/40WalkingThroughTreesInLine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9UI1OV9I/AAAAAAAABJk/RVOexnf6b0s/s320/40WalkingThroughTreesInLine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492455895816146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our trail boss/former Bishop/Awesome Boot Wearing Cowboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9TwYJXmI/AAAAAAAABJc/W_lSbQrfhgQ/s1600/41TrailBoss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9TwYJXmI/AAAAAAAABJc/W_lSbQrfhgQ/s320/41TrailBoss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492449331404386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second day we had some "Alone Time" after lunch.  We all spread  out over a beautiful meadow and read pioneer stories and wrote in our  Trek Journals.  One of my favorite fake daughters here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9TYLk-tI/AAAAAAAABJU/XPPDTgtWWB8/s1600/42AloneTimeInField.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9TYLk-tI/AAAAAAAABJU/XPPDTgtWWB8/s320/42AloneTimeInField.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492442836237010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pondering under a tree:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9F5841EI/AAAAAAAABJM/VuzsCYlTcp4/s1600/43AloneTimeUnderTree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9F5841EI/AAAAAAAABJM/VuzsCYlTcp4/s320/43AloneTimeUnderTree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492211383260226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously pondering how awesome he is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9E7euKJI/AAAAAAAABJE/JV2gt5FwPnY/s1600/44AloneTimePose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9E7euKJI/AAAAAAAABJE/JV2gt5FwPnY/s320/44AloneTimePose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492194613733522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is my favorite picture from the whole experience:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9EQOkM7I/AAAAAAAABI8/tQIcpGTwilo/s1600/45LookingForward.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9EQOkM7I/AAAAAAAABI8/tQIcpGTwilo/s320/45LookingForward.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492183003247538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They organized lots of stops for everyone to take a break, move their  position around the cart and drink water.  Some of the kids were getting  "Pioneer Road Rage" (in the words of Matt S.) because they thought  there were a little too many stops.  They wanted to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;GO GO GO&lt;/span&gt;.  They also had these little  "vignettes" along the side of the trail.  The vignettes were there to  remind the kids what the pioneers went through on their journey.  Most  were so sweet they brought tears to my eyes (the trail-side burial of a  mother and baby, when the "angels" came and helped us pull the cart up  Rocky Ridge).  Others were...not as successful.  We tried to keep the  spirit of the activity, but sometimes.... it just doesn't work.  We were  asked to bring someone's baby to Zion, since the baby's family was  "struck with fever".  Our baby started out as a floppy little doll named  "Sarah" filled with wheat kernals.  The kids were supposed to treat her  like a real baby and take turns carrying her the whole way.  It didn't  quite work out.  (How did we know it was filled with wheat kernels?   Because it was accidentally sort of tossed around, and then kind of got  run over by the cart.  Baby did not make it to Zion.  Here you can see  the attempt at surgery to repair a serious head wound.  Wheat-brains  were leaking out everywhere...) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9D2VcwqI/AAAAAAAABI0/HSHiEBgZhpQ/s1600/46TakeMyBabyToZion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9D2VcwqI/AAAAAAAABI0/HSHiEBgZhpQ/s320/46TakeMyBabyToZion.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492176052798114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being at the end of the company, we got a lot of dust.  It looks pretty  here though, right?  Not so pretty when you brush your teeth and blow  your nose later.  (TMI, I know.  But IT WAS NASTY.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9DvADlfI/AAAAAAAABIs/MdMhpF2vuZA/s1600/47DustyTrail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd9DvADlfI/AAAAAAAABIs/MdMhpF2vuZA/s320/47DustyTrail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487492174084019698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't they cute pioneers?  I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8lxvtElI/AAAAAAAABIk/UkryGoyhHcE/s1600/48MostlyHappyPioneers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8lxvtElI/AAAAAAAABIk/UkryGoyhHcE/s320/48MostlyHappyPioneers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487491659424666194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our pioneer family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8lpBuV0I/AAAAAAAABIc/4cwy14aB3iY/s1600/49PioneerFamily.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8lpBuV0I/AAAAAAAABIc/4cwy14aB3iY/s320/49PioneerFamily.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487491657084327746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were supposed to start each day with scripture study and end with a  devotional.  But there was so much going at the beginning of every day  that it was hard to fit in (Ma &amp;amp; Pa meetings, family prayer,  breakfast, break camp, get on the road....)  We took advantage of some  of the longer break-stops to try to fit some spiritual stuff in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8leMkdWI/AAAAAAAABIU/cXd2AOmK2r0/s1600/50ScriptureLessonOnTrail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8leMkdWI/AAAAAAAABIU/cXd2AOmK2r0/s320/50ScriptureLessonOnTrail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487491654177027426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But other times we just goofed off.  Here's a rad picture of Stick Ball  in action.  Who knew sticks and pine cones could be so fun???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8lFrCT8I/AAAAAAAABIM/aT989p9YpdA/s1600/51StickBall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8lFrCT8I/AAAAAAAABIM/aT989p9YpdA/s320/51StickBall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487491647593926594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't showered for three days and have walked 16 miles so far.   Awwwwww, cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8koEUyaI/AAAAAAAABIE/Xfj6Tb3j9kQ/s1600/52MaAndPa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd8koEUyaI/AAAAAAAABIE/Xfj6Tb3j9kQ/s320/52MaAndPa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487491639646931362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a spectacular and unique experience.  I'm very glad to be home,  grateful for hot showers and washing machines, and glad to be with my  crabby, whining children again (I think Gretchen is punishing us for our  absence.)  I would totally do it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week:  10 hour drive to SoCal, sailing trip to Catalina and a  family visit.  Dude, we are crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-7548054397875810427?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/7548054397875810427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=7548054397875810427' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7548054397875810427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7548054397875810427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-is-done.html' title='It Is DONE!!!!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TCd92kHkvHI/AAAAAAAABKs/rmMufbnXjKg/s72-c/31Salon1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-9031272512711831000</id><published>2010-06-20T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T09:10:02.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>With Much Anticipation</title><content type='html'>This week will begin the CRAZY part of our summer.  On Thursday we'll  abandon our children for three days while we pretend to be pioneers.  I  am equal parts excited and ready for this to be over.   (I made another  skirt and apron this week &amp;amp; it is actually cute. Not cute enough to  ever wear again, but cute enough to not feel like a complete idiot while  wearing it...  And I put pockets in my dress to hide my contraband.   Kidding.  Kind of.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days after getting back from the trek  we'll be driving to California where Poppa Randy and Nanna Joy will be  taking us all sailing to Catalina Island!  For four days!  I am so  excited and apprehensive about this.   It was all my idea, and I'm sure  Dad is wondering what possessed me to ask for this trip, what with my small and occasionally impossible children.  Don't even ask  me to start a list of the things that could go wrong (Dramamine has  been purchased, new life jackets for the girls are forthcoming, how to  survive shark attacks has been researched.  Kidding.  Kind of.)  But I  LOVE sailing with my Dad.  (Really, I love hanging out with Dad.   Sailing is just an added bonus.)  And I love going on adventures.  And  this will definitely be an adventure.  (Four adults, Ella and The Gretch  in a 40 ft. sailboat for four days = Big Adventure.  Note to self -  stock up on bribery.)  The girls are especially excited to use Poppa Randy's real binoculars and feed the fish (from the side of the boat.  Not in the classic "Feed You To The Fishes" threat.  Though we might resort to that threat if pushed hard enough.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But till then, we're trying our hardest to  just sit around and be lazy.  I attempted to take pictures of the girls  for a Father's Day gift.  This one of Ella turned out kind of cute:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47urHGTkI/AAAAAAAABH0/vtCub_i2GWw/s1600/20Ella.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47urHGTkI/AAAAAAAABH0/vtCub_i2GWw/s320/20Ella.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484887069216362050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is the best one I got of Gretchen (the other ones were of her on the balcony doubled over in Full Tantrum Mode.  She stopped her fit when I told her to stick out her tongue.  I'm sure if you look close enough, you can see little sparkly tears in her eyes.  OH THE DRAMA!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47uP1AzoI/AAAAAAAABHs/fq0flj79hXg/s1600/21Gretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47uP1AzoI/AAAAAAAABHs/fq0flj79hXg/s320/21Gretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484887061892746882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this one is my favorite.  She definitely needs more weapons to play with, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47sY1Ls2I/AAAAAAAABHk/SakpG8ZJKug/s1600/22FierceGretch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47sY1Ls2I/AAAAAAAABHk/SakpG8ZJKug/s320/22FierceGretch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484887029949641570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Fathers Day!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47rx6nE8I/AAAAAAAABHc/sWnkCp7zVKo/s1600/23CuteOnCouch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47rx6nE8I/AAAAAAAABHc/sWnkCp7zVKo/s320/23CuteOnCouch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484887019503424450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-9031272512711831000?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/9031272512711831000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=9031272512711831000' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9031272512711831000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9031272512711831000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/06/with-much-anticipation.html' title='With Much Anticipation'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TB47urHGTkI/AAAAAAAABH0/vtCub_i2GWw/s72-c/20Ella.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5904473817010018721</id><published>2010-06-13T21:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T21:50:31.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knock Knock!</title><content type='html'>Hello Dear Friends and Family!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As promised, here is a picture  of my PIONEER DRESS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Reasons Why I Love This Picture:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The room is a mess.   (I could have picked up before we took the photo, but I wanted y'all  to feel better about your houses so I left it au natural.  I'm really  thoughtful like that.)&lt;br /&gt;-I am clothed wrist to ankle, but Gretchen is  practically naked.&lt;br /&gt;-I didn't bother taking off my pajamas for the  photo shoot.  You can see them peeking out under my skirt.&lt;br /&gt;-For some  reason I am wearing my gold flip flops.  With pajama pants.  And a  pioneer dress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwBq-xjYI/AAAAAAAABHU/KMPfZoRCOSQ/s1600/10PioneerDressGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwBq-xjYI/AAAAAAAABHU/KMPfZoRCOSQ/s320/10PioneerDressGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482481664157388162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here  it is with the Authentic Scarf and Apron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwBe-017I/AAAAAAAABHM/VV2-_Xvivwc/s1600/11PioneerDressApron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwBe-017I/AAAAAAAABHM/VV2-_Xvivwc/s320/11PioneerDressApron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482481660936378290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't  you just see me as a Pioneer?  I know.  I'm totally going to rock at  it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwAxizQYI/AAAAAAAABHE/jSpRrm1ZxVw/s1600/12PioneerDressAuthenticBackground.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwAxizQYI/AAAAAAAABHE/jSpRrm1ZxVw/s320/12PioneerDressAuthenticBackground.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482481648739238274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks  for taking such awesome pictures Ella!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwAhXuddI/AAAAAAAABG8/v-_8-KE3iWM/s1600/13PioneerPhotographer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwAhXuddI/AAAAAAAABG8/v-_8-KE3iWM/s320/13PioneerPhotographer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482481644397819346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're  welcome, Mom!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwAKm3jMI/AAAAAAAABG0/xTwj2wnkaU0/s1600/14EllaSelfPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwAKm3jMI/AAAAAAAABG0/xTwj2wnkaU0/s320/14EllaSelfPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482481638287314114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gretchen's Two New Cute Things:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  When I hand her something (snack, juice, etc.) she says, "Oh  tank you, mama!"  (The enthusiasm gets me every time.  I love this kid.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.   Gretchen has started telling jokes.  She almost gets it.  It's heavy  on the bathroom humor.  Actually, it's pretty much ALL bathroom humor.   (PS - Don't mind the boxes in the background.  We finally got our  storage rack assembled, so pretty soon they'll be gone.  You know, in a  few more weeks...):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5E2Ds_dm-Zg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5E2Ds_dm-Zg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2AoZoP14b1s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2AoZoP14b1s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  week our goals include:&lt;br /&gt;-Going swimming every day (we went FIVE TIMES  last week.  And had a BBQ.  Unemployment is suiting us a little too  well.  But hey, I finished my freelance job yesterday.  YAY!!!)&lt;br /&gt;-Having  more BBQ.&lt;br /&gt;-Actually doing that Ab workout instead of just thinking  about it.&lt;br /&gt;-Catching up on Glee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Doesn't it feel good to put  your goals in writing.  I know I feel better...)  So what are YOUR goals  this week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5904473817010018721?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5904473817010018721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5904473817010018721' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5904473817010018721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5904473817010018721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/06/knock-knock.html' title='Knock Knock!'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TBWwBq-xjYI/AAAAAAAABHU/KMPfZoRCOSQ/s72-c/10PioneerDressGretchen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6039506549412415392</id><published>2010-06-06T09:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T10:38:14.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gigantic Mountains and Ginormous Milestones</title><content type='html'>Hello, dear friends and family.  We had a fantastic week.  I was a productive little lady (I'm 1/2 way done with my freelance project!  Yay!).  And Ella graduated  kindergarten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Memorial Day we got a glimpse of what the summer  will be like.  It was beautiful.  We started our celebrations at Target  (don't be jealous) and got sunscreen.  The girls got their first  sunburns the previous Saturday when the apartment pool opened and we  went for a quick swim.  Quick because we were out of sunscreen.  Now  they have little tan lines.  Who's kids are these?  Apparently they  don't follow the Robertson tradition of burn/peel/burn/peel/skin  cancer...  But we're still going to keep them covered in sunscreen for  the rest of their natural lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went on a hike to the top of  RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN.  Doesn't that sound brilliant and scary?  It's  actually more of a foothill, but RATTLESNAKE FOOTHILL doesn't carry the  same weight as RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN.  Climbing the top of this, ahem,  mountain was on my list of "Things To Do Before We Move".  (Do you like  how I'm thinking positively because of COURSE Colby will be getting a  job soon and it probably won't be in Northern Nevada.  Which makes me  sad, because I really love Northern Nevada.  But immensely happy because  HELLO!!!  Jobs = Money = Happiness.  Really, money can buy happiness.   Don't believe what they tell you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how the hike went.&lt;br /&gt;Great!  - 5 minutes&lt;br /&gt;Good - 15 minutes&lt;br /&gt;(Almost to the top) HORRIBLE - 10 minutes&lt;br /&gt;(Reached the top)&lt;br /&gt;Handed out snacks and juice boxes.&lt;br /&gt;(Began track down)&lt;br /&gt;HORRIBLE - 15 minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing it was a short hike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen pretending it was fun to hike:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWYstdRyI/AAAAAAAABGs/LU3vX8Sd6AM/s1600/1GretchenMountainTop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWYstdRyI/AAAAAAAABGs/LU3vX8Sd6AM/s320/1GretchenMountainTop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479709091433367330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look!  I made it!  Can I have fruit snacks now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWYE6i2XI/AAAAAAAABGk/3TVZSDwviaU/s1600/2EllaMountainTop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWYE6i2XI/AAAAAAAABGk/3TVZSDwviaU/s320/2EllaMountainTop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479709080750840178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWXp2QWaI/AAAAAAAABGc/hCL5zIOLd-k/s1600/3AprylMountainTop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWXp2QWaI/AAAAAAAABGc/hCL5zIOLd-k/s320/3AprylMountainTop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479709073485093282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting all the good pictures from graduation later today.  I'll put them in a separate post.   Goodbye, best kindergarten teacher ever!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWXbXfGUI/AAAAAAAABGU/JyKySo3JMQc/s1600/4EllaAndTeacher.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWXbXfGUI/AAAAAAAABGU/JyKySo3JMQc/s320/4EllaAndTeacher.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479709069597940034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In keeping with the tradition of overdoing it and general ridiculousness, I carved a watermelon for the kindergarten graduation BBQ into the shape of a bee (the class mascot).  I wasn't going to do anything that crazy, but my friend J dared me to do it.  So of course then I had to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWW3SeDJI/AAAAAAAABGM/xfjn5jb4U1c/s1600/5BuzzingBeeWatermelon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWW3SeDJI/AAAAAAAABGM/xfjn5jb4U1c/s320/5BuzzingBeeWatermelon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479709059913223314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, since I know you're all waiting with baited breath to find out about my pioneer dress, it is DONE!!!  Yes, it is done and it is almost fabulous.  It's kind of got a high waist (where my actual waist is instead of at the top of my hips), but it fits and it's almost kind of cute.  Almost.  It's definitely not doing anything for my figure.  People may assume I'm a pregnant pioneer.  I'm ok with that.  Especially since my "Pioneer Ancestor" that I'm doing family history work on had a baby en route.  (Can you even imagine being 9 months pregnant while walking across the plains?  Kill me now.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got so excited about finishing that sewing project that I went to Savers and bought an awesome old pillowcase and made Ella a dress and Gretchen a matching skirt.  I'm going to try to put them in them for church today.  And then take a picture.  We'll see how that goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish us luck with our first week of summer.  I know Ella was only in school for 2.5 hours a day, but DUDE, that 2.5 hours made all the difference.  (Where is Ella right now?  Pouting somewhere because I told her I was going to beat her bum if she didn't clean up her dress-ups RIGHT NOW.  There is beauty all around, when there's love at home....)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6039506549412415392?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6039506549412415392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6039506549412415392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6039506549412415392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6039506549412415392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/06/gigantic-mountains-and-ginormous.html' title='Gigantic Mountains and Ginormous Milestones'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/TAvWYstdRyI/AAAAAAAABGs/LU3vX8Sd6AM/s72-c/1GretchenMountainTop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-7216461047184510251</id><published>2010-05-30T17:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T17:28:09.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fun Fact #1:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;We don't cry in kindergarten.  &lt;/span&gt;Since  they've finished their end-of-year testing, Ella's kindergarten class  has been winding down.  They've been "practicing" having recess every  day.  It's supposed to help them get ready for the experience they'll  have next year when they're in school for 6 hours.  And yeah, practice  has been going pretty well.  I think they have it down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime last week Ella tripped and fell in the "protective" wood  chips.  She showed me the cuts in her hand and then told me, "I didn't  cry, even though it hurt really bad.  We don't cry in kindergarten."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fun Fact #2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ella will now be known as "April the  Second".&lt;/span&gt;  She told me that when she was a baby, she wanted me to  name her April.  Apparently I got it wrong.  I told her we can call her  that from now on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fun Fact #3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;When you cut out a pattern, you should  make sure you really make sure you CUT THE RIGHT SIZE.&lt;/span&gt;  Yeah.   And the size you buy your pants at Target is NOT the size you cut out  for a pattern.  Remember that "Pioneer Dress" I've been working on?   Apparently I cut it out 3 sizes too small.  I think we can salvage it  though.  I've got some help.  I'll keep you posted.  I have other fabric  to make an elastic waist skirt, so I may just be sporting that on our  hike.  We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Other Facts:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The pool opened at our apartment, so you're all invited to come  swimming with us. &lt;br /&gt;-Ella has her kindergarten graduation this week (sniff), so next week's  news should be full of overly-sentimental musings from an emotional  mom. &lt;br /&gt;-I spoke in church today.  I HATE SPEAKING IN PUBLIC.  But it went ok.   Mostly just glad it's over.&lt;br /&gt;-We're looking forward to our trip to CA for 4th of July.  YAY!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's up with you?  Have any fun facts to share?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-7216461047184510251?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/7216461047184510251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=7216461047184510251' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7216461047184510251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7216461047184510251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/05/fun-facts.html' title='Fun Facts'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-7065409905875812418</id><published>2010-05-23T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T17:55:52.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dentist Incident</title><content type='html'>We had some excitement this week when we babysat Ella's BFF while her mom &amp;amp; husband went on vacation.  For four whole days.  (Why yes, I AM crazy and take on more than I can handle on a regular basis, why do you ask?  See also:  Kindergarten yearbook, my volunteer work, the "Pioneer" dress I'm attempting to sew for Trek, plus all my freelance work, etc.)  So where was I, oh yes, babysitting.  The first day was....not great.  We'll call her Starling.  Starling is an only child (so far) and is NOT used to sharing with small children.  Gretchen is two and is NOT used to sharing either.  That was fun.  I made both Gretchen AND Starling cry.  It wasn't on purpose.  But we had a "Come To Jesus" talk.  It worked.  By the time Thursday rolled around, I was totally handling three kids.  (And by "Totally Handling", I mean I was only pulling my hair out every hour instead of every 15 minutes.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how Ella's teeth were coming in?  And how her baby teeth were still firmly in place?  And how my phobia of tooth loss prevented me from "twisting" them (as per the Dentist's instructions)?  And how every time Colby got near her with "twisting intent" she would scream so loud that the ceiling shook?  Yeah, we took her to the Dentist to get them pulled.  Bribery didn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how it went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Ella threw a HUGE MESSY FIT in the parking lot.  I literally had to drag her across the street to the dentist's office.  I'm pretty sure the Grown Up Dentists office called the Childrens Dentist office &amp;amp; tipped them off.   They had a "Screamer".  Oh yes, they did.  And Starling kept saying, "Why is she screaming like that, it's hurting my ears."  You know, cause OF COURSE I took an extra child on this errand.&lt;br /&gt;2.  We finally got Ella in a "Procedure Chair" and sufficiently threatened/bribed/drugged, (kudos to the Dental Hygienist.  She totally rocked.)  Dental Hygenist Lady was able to wiggle out one of the teeth once Ella was sedated.  Starling was mesmerized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Starling&lt;/span&gt; - What's all that red stuff?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dental Hygienist&lt;/span&gt; - Don't worry about it, it's just red stuff.  (She totally lied!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt; - Do you want to sit outside the room, Starling?  There's a movie you can watch, you don't have to sit in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Starling&lt;/span&gt; - No, I want to stay in here with you.  That's not just red stuff, it's blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dental Hygienist&lt;/span&gt; - Don't worry, sweetie.  Why don't you go sit down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Starling&lt;/span&gt; - I don't feel so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, Starling is literally as pale as Edward.  Her lips have a blue tint.  And she faints.  SHE FREAKIN' FAINTED!!!  Luckily I was right there &amp;amp; caught her.  Then I rocked her while she came to and THREW UP.  Oh my gosh.  This poor child.  The Hygienist ran to get the Dentist.  I assured them that Starling had no pre-existing conditions (except apparently a HUGE AVERSION TO THE SIGHT OF BLOOD.)  She had a juice box.  While I dealt with Starling, the dentist snuck in and pulled Ella's extra tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasted no time.  THEY WERE VERY GLAD TO SEE US GO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I learned:&lt;br /&gt;-Never take someone else's kid on a "Medical Errand".  Just don't.&lt;br /&gt;-Our insurance does not cover tooth extractions.  DUDE!  SO EXPENSIVE!!!&lt;br /&gt;-Next time Ella gets a loose tooth, we're holding her down &amp;amp; taking pliers to it.   She can use the $ we've saved on Dental bills to pay for her therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pre-Extraction.  Hi baby teeth!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_YDgZr_I/AAAAAAAABF8/AtXPIswbTvA/s1600/2BabyTeeth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_YDgZr_I/AAAAAAAABF8/AtXPIswbTvA/s320/2BabyTeeth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474546873280344050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the Happy Gas.  (Ella's reaction to Happy Gas = Very Goofy.  She was giggling the whole time Starling was having her incident.  She didn't even notice.  She was busy watching Dora.  When her tooth was yanked, she said, "Ow!" and then giggled some more.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_XhDFqpI/AAAAAAAABF0/GeQPxdLBmks/s1600/3TheSpecialGas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_XhDFqpI/AAAAAAAABF0/GeQPxdLBmks/s320/3TheSpecialGas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474546864030591634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing she's cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_XMzLtzI/AAAAAAAABFs/KaxXQxde2dM/s1600/4ExtremeCloseUp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_XMzLtzI/AAAAAAAABFs/KaxXQxde2dM/s320/4ExtremeCloseUp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474546858595170098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-7065409905875812418?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/7065409905875812418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=7065409905875812418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7065409905875812418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7065409905875812418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/05/dentist-incident.html' title='The Dentist Incident'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S_l_YDgZr_I/AAAAAAAABF8/AtXPIswbTvA/s72-c/2BabyTeeth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6297286617287983383</id><published>2010-05-09T10:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T10:28:58.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Yeah, Thanks Mom</title><content type='html'>Did you do anything special for Mother's Day this year?  Colby took the  girls to Target yesterday and they picked me out a lovely metal water  bottle and a box of chocolates (# of times this morning Gretchen has  asked me to "share" = 5,893.)  They greeted the sun with joyful  exclamations around 6-freakin'-thirty this morning.  Colby &amp;amp; I  played the  If-I-Lay-Very-Still-And-Feign-Sleep-Maybe-The-Other-Person-Will-Wake-Up-And-Take-Care-Of-Them  game.  (It's super fun.  Do you ever play?)  I finally got up around 8  to change Gretchen's first Mother's Day Poopy Diaper (thanks sweetie!   Lets eat some more yogurt, mkay?)  But then I took a bath (blessedly  alone, much to Gretchen's chagrin.)  And I gave myself a haircut.  So  today is getting better.  Plus, after church we're going to Ella's  kindergarten teacher's house for Mother's Day Dinner.  (I'm bringing  spinach salad with strawberries, candied pecans and poppy-seed  dressing.  YuuuUUUUm.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So have I told y'all yet that Colby and I are doing a Pioneer Trek this  summer?  "What's that?" you may ask.  It's when a bunch of youth and  youth leaders from church dress up as pioneers and pull a handcart  across the desert for 4 days.  "Why would you want to do that?" you may  wonder.  And I'm not really sure.  But everyone we talk to who's  participated before raves on and on about how wonderful it is.  I'm  totally getting sucked in by the hype.  At first I was all, "What the  H-E-double-hockey-sticks? (content edited for family blog.)"  But then I  realized how awesome it'd be to see Colby away from his laptop for four  days straight surrounded by crabby teenagers in historic-dress &amp;amp;  realized we couldn't pass this up.  I went to a meeting a few months ago  and got the "Ma and Pa Handbook".  Colby and I are "Parents" and we'll  have 10 - 12 kids in our "Family".  The handbooks said things like, "No  electronics allowed, you get to be your OWN SPIRITUAL IPOD!"  (I'm not  making this up.)  So we're going to work on memorizing some hymns.   Maybe I'll get Colby to bring his guitar and learn some songs OTHER than  Willie Nelson's "Crazy".  I could bring my Hammered Dulcimer (that's  totally historic, right?) and play some jigs.  It's going to be fun.  I  seriously am excited by this.  Now I just need to find someone to take  on the girls for 4 days.  Gulp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Little Family-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for my super cute water bottle!  As per your suggestion, I WILL  use it when I go to the gym.  (That wasn't a hint on their part, I  really do go to the gym.  Even if you can't tell.)  And the chocolate is  so good that I will not be eating it in your presence because I don't  want to share. LOVE YA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mom-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being my Mom.  I hope you have a fun day and that Christian  doesn't listen to his Rock Music CD.  (Sorry I made him that.)  Give  Baby Teagan lots of kisses from me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Mother-In-Law-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being the best MIL in the whole wide world.  We miss you so  much.  You are great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Grandma-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for always keeping fudgesicles in your freezer for me.  You're  always so thoughtful.  We're so lucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Grandma JoEllen-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We miss you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Mothers Day Everybody!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6297286617287983383?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6297286617287983383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6297286617287983383' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6297286617287983383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6297286617287983383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/05/oh-yeah-thanks-mom.html' title='Oh Yeah, Thanks Mom'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1164166200298597334</id><published>2010-05-02T08:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T10:25:53.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Bonanza</title><content type='html'>Whoa.  We've had quite a fortnight.  Ella was FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY picked as the *Star Student* at school, which means she got to bring "Buzzing Bee" home (the class mascot), and bring in a poster covered with her favorite family photots.  She also got to fill in an info sheet All About Ella.  I learned some things.  Like that she wants to be a bus driver when she grows up.  Suh-weet! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Star-Student Friday coincided with Earth Day.  They attempted to make ice cream.  (It ended up being kind of a cold milk with sugar/milkshake, but they were sure excited about it...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cvUd4dGI/AAAAAAAABFk/5VU5QoQQCp0/s1600/10-StarStudentIceCream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cvUd4dGI/AAAAAAAABFk/5VU5QoQQCp0/s320/10-StarStudentIceCream.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697859459478626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they played LEAP FROG.  Cause nothing says "Earth DAY" more than laminated disposable paper lily pads, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cuvH16cI/AAAAAAAABFc/Ms5RfALTpdU/s1600/11-EarthDayLeapFrog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cuvH16cI/AAAAAAAABFc/Ms5RfALTpdU/s320/11-EarthDayLeapFrog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697849434925506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella may have been most excited about the Star Student thing, but MY  weekend was even cooler.  Mostly because I have the bestest friends in the whole wide world.  My BFF/SoulSister-4-Eva, Lismarie, bought me a SURPRISE TICKET TO SEATTLE.  She even worked it out with Colby so that I could leave the girls at home.  I HAD A WEEKEND AWAY IN SEATTLE WITH NO CHILDREN.  Yes, it was a slice of heaven. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lismarie picked me up from the airport Friday afternoon, then we drove by my old house.  Ok, you know that I have some "feelings" about my old house.  How much I miss it.  How much I loved it.  It was so great to drive by and see it look EXACTLY THE SAME.  And it looked like a cute little family lived there.  The wisteria I planted was finally blooming, and the whole house looked so cute.  I MISS YOU, LITTLE HOUSE IN THE "REGENTRIFIED ARTIST COMMUNITY" GHETTO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove up the street and admired the adorable Pea Patch (neighborhood garden).  They finally restored the Hat of the Hat &amp;amp; Boots.  It all looked so good.  The neighborhood looked so cute.  I didn't even see one prostitute or drug deal.  Sigh.  Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Awkward photo in front of Pea Patch)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cuW-PnrI/AAAAAAAABFU/sOOVvPHrYAA/s1600/12-PeaPatch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cuW-PnrI/AAAAAAAABFU/sOOVvPHrYAA/s320/12-PeaPatch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697842952216242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Wearing Giant Orange Cowboy Hat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ct2cz1bI/AAAAAAAABFM/RQF4NQ4pBN4/s1600/13-HatAndBoots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ct2cz1bI/AAAAAAAABFM/RQF4NQ4pBN4/s320/13-HatAndBoots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697834222048690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Lismarie is amazing and pretty and funny and kind and BOUGHT ME A FREAKIN TICKET TO SEATTLE!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ctTizk4I/AAAAAAAABFE/AhkF0Zt6peA/s1600/14-BFFs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ctTizk4I/AAAAAAAABFE/AhkF0Zt6peA/s320/14-BFFs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697824851956610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND I got to see Janeece too.  OMG.  I love my BFFs.  Janeece planned a dinner with all my old friends at my favorite restaurant.  I felt so bad for our waiter.  A Ladies-Night-Out party of 10.  Where no one ordered any drinks (besides Diet Coke), and we stayed for almost FIVE HOURS.  And we all had coupons for free dessert.  We left him a big tip.  Poor kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Janeece in her swanky custom kitchen)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cdPUwQiI/AAAAAAAABE8/rOmUUyXpQ_4/s1600/15-BFFs2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cdPUwQiI/AAAAAAAABE8/rOmUUyXpQ_4/s320/15-BFFs2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697548841370146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was pretty much the best weekend ever.  I don't think any birthday will ever top it.  Thank you Lismarie, you are amazing and I am so lucky to have you as my friend.  I don't know what I did to deserve you.  I might as well just stop celebrating my birthday.  I've reached the pinnacle of Birthday Wishes.  (Did I mention the Chinese hot-stone massages Lismarie booked?  No.  Yeah, it was as amazing as it sounds...  Seriously, nothing can top it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I came home.  And I readjusted to my children.  My tolerance for whining was greatly diminished by my relaxing weekend, so I had to really work hard at being a Nice Mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Super Awesome Friend J has the hook-ups for all things Free &amp;amp; Fabulous.  In the past two days we've:&lt;br /&gt;-Gotten a free sitting for a photo shoot at JC Penney's &amp;amp; a bunch of pictures for only $11.  (Gretchen is a model-in-the-making.  She was totally into the posing.  She even snuck into a few shots she wasn't supposed to be in.)  (It was the first time I'd ever taken my girls to a photo place for portraits.  I'm such a photo snob usually, I make Lismarie or Christiana take pictures.  Because when your BFFs are professional photographers, why would you go to the mall???  But this was super fun.  I'm totally sold.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Joined the "Kids Club" at the mall.  And got free suckers from See's candy, stickers, t-shirts, and ree hot dogs.  Dude.  Did I mention we live across the street from the mall?  We are totally going to get our $'s worth out of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Home Depot to do the free craft.  Have you ever done this before?  It is SO FUN.  On the first Saturday of each month most Home Depots have a craft for kids.  They get an orange apron, access to tools, and make.....something.  And you don't even have to clean it up! (Well, we helped, but we didn't have to deal with the paint droppings my children scattered across the tarps.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My High School self is making fun of me for how much time we've spent at the mall.  We only let the kids ride this lame money-sucking ride once.   But they stayed and played on it and TWO RANDOM STRANGERS came up and gave them $ to go on it.  People in Reno are so nice.  (And we need to talk to our kids about not taking stuff from strangers.  But still, SO NICE.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ccy8dx3I/AAAAAAAABE0/OMDeQ5rD7bg/s1600/16-Mall.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ccy8dx3I/AAAAAAAABE0/OMDeQ5rD7bg/s320/16-Mall.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697541223303026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ccdmZlMI/AAAAAAAABEs/zR54vU-7xmE/s1600/17-Mall2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ccdmZlMI/AAAAAAAABEs/zR54vU-7xmE/s320/17-Mall2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697535493608642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen was really really REALLY intense about her "Picket Fence  Planter".  She painted the whole thing by herself.  Look at her  concentration skills!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ccMxkNGI/AAAAAAAABEk/maGXc6F1EUU/s1600/18-BuildingAndPainting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92ccMxkNGI/AAAAAAAABEk/maGXc6F1EUU/s320/18-BuildingAndPainting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697530977039458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we met Ella's kindergarten teacher for Brunch.  I love her.  We're going to their house for a BBQ tonight.  Her daughter is so sweet and quiet and REALLY not sure what to think of my girls.  But they let us hang out with them anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cbsrAjHI/AAAAAAAABEc/eZEC_7-7lPs/s1600/19-BrunchBuddies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cbsrAjHI/AAAAAAAABEc/eZEC_7-7lPs/s320/19-BrunchBuddies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466697522359602290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birthday Bonanza.  What did I tell you? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yesterday Amber babysat for a few hours so I could go spend my birthday money WITHOUT CHILDREN.  I got some cute stuff.  And this morning I dyed my hair brown.  It's like I'm a new woman.  I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if Colby could find a fantastic job, I'm pretty sure our life would be perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-1164166200298597334?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/1164166200298597334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=1164166200298597334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1164166200298597334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/1164166200298597334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/05/birthday-bonanza.html' title='Birthday Bonanza'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S92cvUd4dGI/AAAAAAAABFk/5VU5QoQQCp0/s72-c/10-StarStudentIceCream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4909772176058777297</id><published>2010-04-18T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T12:31:06.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma Leaving And Toothsome Adventures</title><content type='html'>Hello Friends!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXs18sYbI/AAAAAAAABEU/Cddfro1uH3Q/s1600/5-WinkWink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXs18sYbI/AAAAAAAABEU/Cddfro1uH3Q/s320/5-WinkWink.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461555401024364978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  finally found my camera cord, so I can upload pictures again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boxes  are fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXsd3sugI/AAAAAAAABEM/88kPv8YBBOo/s1600/1-BoxFun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXsd3sugI/AAAAAAAABEM/88kPv8YBBOo/s320/1-BoxFun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461555394560965122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma  left on Friday.  It's official.  Grandma and Grandpa don't live here  anymore.  This is how we feel about their absence:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXsK0fn4I/AAAAAAAABEE/KPqG5Q38yTk/s1600/6-GoodbyeDrawing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXsK0fn4I/AAAAAAAABEE/KPqG5Q38yTk/s320/6-GoodbyeDrawing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461555389447249794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Except  for that happy person on the end.  That must be Gretchen thinking about  candy.  I think I'm the disembodied head.  So overcome with emotion  that I've lost my lower-half.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met Anita for lunch on Thursday  before she left.  There were lots of kisses and hugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXrmwKIqI/AAAAAAAABD8/iYnBw3c_LvI/s1600/4-GrandmaKiss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXrmwKIqI/AAAAAAAABD8/iYnBw3c_LvI/s320/4-GrandmaKiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461555379765387938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXrAi9UcI/AAAAAAAABD0/cUzkGG5siao/s1600/5-GrandmaAndGirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXrAi9UcI/AAAAAAAABD0/cUzkGG5siao/s320/5-GrandmaAndGirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461555369509474754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And  because we couldn't stand to let her go just yet, we met her at a  friends and had pizza together.  This friend got one of those new swim  spas.  I WANT I WANT I WANT.  Seriously.  It's at the top of my list.   As soon as we get our own house, I'm getting one.  Gretchen was SO into  it.  As you can see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WLVnMjAd_EY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WLVnMjAd_EY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zyodu0706ak&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zyodu0706ak&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In  other news....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever have those dreams where your teeth  are falling out?  I do.  ALL.  THE.  TIME.  It doesn't help that I've  actually knocked my front teeth out before.  And that the endodontist  told me that, "It could easily happen again."  So imagine my joy when  Ella shows me her loose teeth.  (Seriously, I may throw up.  I get  light-headed every time she wiggles them.  And the dentist gave us a 2  week deadline to get them out ourselves.  I'm supposed to TWIST THEM.   Ugh.  UGH!  I can't handle that.  COLBY HELP!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LB2RlJ1RkQc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LB2RlJ1RkQc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen  is convinced that her teeth are loose too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/j2eQtCrOkLQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/j2eQtCrOkLQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4909772176058777297?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4909772176058777297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4909772176058777297' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4909772176058777297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4909772176058777297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/04/grandma-leaving-and-toothsome.html' title='Grandma Leaving And Toothsome Adventures'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S8tXs18sYbI/AAAAAAAABEU/Cddfro1uH3Q/s72-c/5-WinkWink.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-9132569126415716303</id><published>2010-04-11T19:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T15:20:50.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Floor Living Without A Yard</title><content type='html'>So we moved.  We now live in 860 sq feet of OUR OWN.  It has a view of the Sears parking lot out the living room window.  But I still like it.  We have no couch, and 2 of the living room walls are covered in boxes.  But I still like it.  He/We decided NOT to unpack our kitchen stuff (after Colby informed that it was "buried" in our storage unit in the back corner.  Way to plan ahead, I know.)  So I scrounged up some basic kitchen supplies (I love you Julie!), bought 4 plates &amp;amp; 4 bowls from the thrift store, and invested in some plastic wear.  I also bought:&lt;br /&gt;-1 teal can opener&lt;br /&gt;-1 ceramic knife&lt;br /&gt;-1 cutting board&lt;br /&gt;-1 set of measuring spoons and cups&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how little kitchen stuff you need when you get creative.  Like using plates for pan lids when you make rice.  Or using your husband's pressure cooker to boil noodles.  And pre-cutting all your food before serving since you don't own any table knives.  And never using the dishwasher because you don't even own a full wash-load full of dishes.  But I still like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen was shocked into submission with the move.  She became "shy".  She wants me to hold her all the time.  But I have time to hold her, and it keeps her from running away when we're in public.  So I like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella is on Spring Break this week.  Apparently the school district just throw darts at the calender to pick the dates for the holiday (Really?  NO WHERE NEAR EASTER?  And a whole month after the university/community college break.  Really?)   So far we've celebrated Spring Break by waking up at the normal 6:30, watching Alvin &amp;amp; The Chipmunks, and playing with our friends.  Next up.  Trip to the grocery store.  Don't be jealous of our Rockstar life.  (But I still like it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week we went to a post-Easter-Egg-Hunt (kind of a Last-Hurrah-Leftover-Extravaganza).  Ella and Gretchen totally got sunburned.  And today it was snowing sideways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Spring,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We miss you.  Please come again soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Everyone Else,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us know if you hear of any amazing Marketing Positions open.  I've got a highly qualified and motivated prospective employee here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-9132569126415716303?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/9132569126415716303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=9132569126415716303' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9132569126415716303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9132569126415716303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/04/second-floor-living-without-yard.html' title='Second Floor Living Without A Yard'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-8865044856531482450</id><published>2010-03-28T20:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T20:12:04.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Moving Adventurous</title><content type='html'>I feel very loved lately.  People keep calling to check up on me.  You  know, to see if I've gone crazy yet.  It's very sweet.  I've had SEVEN  people offer to watch the girls when we move next week (which will be  Friday, BTW.  And I've taken 3 of them up on it. Volunteers will be  doing shifts because I just can't bring myself to sic Gretchen onto any  one family for a whole day...)  So Friday we'll move into our new  apartment home, and then Saturday we're loading up the Big Stott's stuff  (we attempted to cut back on the chaos by doing it on different days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;This Is Me Looking On The  Bright Side:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I'll get to unpack our kitchen boxes  after THREE YEARS of storage.  I think I remember that we had lots of  good stuff.  I distinctly remember an awesome red Kitchenaide mixer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We don't have to worry about moving much heavy furniture because we  don't have any couches!  Booya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The new complex has a gym and FOUR POOLS.   And anyone up for  Tennis?  (Too bad they don't have a badminton court.  I'm a fierce  Badminton Competitor.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-It's only temporary, so if I decide I hate it, it'll be over soon.  Say  it with me now, "Colby graduates in two months.  Colby graduates in two  months.  Colby graduates in two months."  (Deep cleansing breath.)   (Also, try to forget that we have no idea where we'll be going after  graduation.  Deeeeeeeeeeeeep cleansing breaths.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We'll get to think of fun new decorating ideas like this (because  all our other decorations are staying in storage):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S7AX4Uhrp7I/AAAAAAAABDs/jeD1FwBVLJI/s1600/origamiidea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S7AX4Uhrp7I/AAAAAAAABDs/jeD1FwBVLJI/s320/origamiidea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453885405095765938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No  news on the Great Missing Cat Debacle of 2010.  I had a dream that Miss  Jackson came home and I woke up with her curled around my feet.  But  that dream didn't come true.  Sniff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PATHETIC STORY OF THE WEEK:  I wanted to make "Missing Cat" posters, but  I couldn't find a picture of Miss Jackson on my computer.  I know I  have a lovely one in my photo album.  I know exactly where the photo  album is too.  Packed up and under about 300 lbs of boxes.  So instead  of unpacking 1/2 my closet, I just stole one off the internet.  This is  not actually our cat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try  {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S7AV069aOCI/AAAAAAAABDk/mCBZ0dTWyfE/s1600/LostCat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S7AV069aOCI/AAAAAAAABDk/mCBZ0dTWyfE/s320/LostCat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453883147669878818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But close enough.  Posters have been distributed with a suitable  stand-in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was Colby's birthday.  We celebrated by going to see Sherlock  Holmes at the $3 theater and then eating Persian food.  Yum.  We decided  that when he gets a job, we're going to start having more fun.  (Money &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; buy  happiness, just FYI.  At least some excellent dinner...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you have an excellent week!  Wish us luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-8865044856531482450?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/8865044856531482450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=8865044856531482450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8865044856531482450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8865044856531482450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/03/more-moving-adventurous.html' title='More Moving Adventurous'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S7AX4Uhrp7I/AAAAAAAABDs/jeD1FwBVLJI/s72-c/origamiidea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6357118451343708067</id><published>2010-03-21T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T20:02:05.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Sacks</title><content type='html'>Hi!  Remember how last time I posted things were all up in the air?  Yeah.  It just got a little more crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Colby's parents sold their house after only 2 weeks on the market.  Hooray for them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Holy Hannah, we need to move in TWO WEEKS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We don't know where we're going to live yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We've got an offer in on a condo, but haven't heard anything back.  And even if we DO get it, no way it'll be ours by the time we need to be outta here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We found a few month-to-month apartments where we can go till we figure things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Colby is graduating in May.  And we don't know where we're going to live, or where he'll get a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We could get this condo &amp;amp; then find out we're moving to Portland.  Which would be fine, we would just rent it out, but still, BUMMER!  Or we could be here for another four+ years (if Colby finds a job in town &amp;amp; starts his MBA.)  But we could not.  AHHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I am a planner.  I like to know what I'm doing, where I'm doing it, and how I'm going to get it done.  I KNOW NOTHING.  I am going crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-While we were looking for an apartment yesterday, Gretchen threw up in the car.  Twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Our cat has run away from home.  We checked one shelter today, but will have to wait till tomorrow to check the other one.  WHERE IS SHE!?!?  We are moving in two weeks?  What if we don't find her?  OMG!  I'm FREAKING OUT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew.  I feel a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angela, or "Auntie Anal" (as Gretchen lovingly refers to her), came with her lovely family &amp;amp; helped with a bunch of Big Projects.  Like emptying the food storage room out (remind me never to aquire a full years worth of food storage.  If it comes down to living off of 30 year old pinto beans and "Sloppy Joe" mix with "Beef Substitute", I'm pretty much ok with just dying...  And I think my children would agree with me.)  Auntie Angel is pretty much amazing.  So is Uncle Shea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gretchen's New Tricks:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Said to me this afternoon:&lt;/span&gt;  Stop it Mom!  Making me CRAZY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Said to Auntie Krista, who was giggling at her fake-cry:&lt;/span&gt;  STOP COPYING ME!&lt;br /&gt;(Such a charmer, I know...)  Also, she can almost skip, put on her own bandaids (she prefers "Barbie Bandaids" to all others), and get random strangers at the park to put her in swings and then push her.  Much to her mom's embarrassment (we have a No-Swings-At-The-Park rule because it's too hard to keep an eye on both the girls when one of them is swinging.  But Gretchen doesn't let her mom's rules stop her.  This terrifies me on so many levels.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, please, please let me have some answers by next week.  At least a cat back.  Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6357118451343708067?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6357118451343708067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6357118451343708067' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6357118451343708067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6357118451343708067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/03/sad-sacks.html' title='Sad Sacks'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-8844293735234397742</id><published>2010-03-07T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T20:01:05.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Lutherans</title><content type='html'>BIG WEEK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Gretchen got her stitches out. Gretchen's hand shook a little bit while the stitches were removed, but she held very still. The cut is healing up nicely. Our pediatrician said the ER Practitioner did an excellent job, and even though she'll have a scar, it'll be a little skinny one.  Not the gaping wound I was afraid it'd be.  (DUDE, WE COULD SEE HER SKULL BONE!!!  I AM STILL FREAKED OUT BY THIS!!!) She is so brave. And now she's rockin' the bandaids that we plaster daily across her little forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Gretchen spilled her crackers all over my lap &amp;amp; the pew at church today and said, "Oh great." My baby knows how to properly use sarcasm. I'm so proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- We put an offer in on a condo, but found out Friday that we didn't get it. LAME. But whatever, we will persevere. And one day we'll have our very own little ghetto condo to call home. Or not. Maybe we'll just have to find a rental. I'm sick of thinking about it. So I'm not going to any more. I'm taking the night off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ella can sit down and READ. A ton. It's pretty amazing. I can't really take much credit for it either. She is brilliant. Now if I could only get her to make her bed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I went to a Retreat with my mom's group this weekend.  It was FREE.  And this is what I got to look at all weekend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S5RxyG_-cBI/AAAAAAAABDU/67sQzUTGNLY/s1600-h/tahoesnow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S5RxyG_-cBI/AAAAAAAABDU/67sQzUTGNLY/s320/tahoesnow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446102955084115986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is just a picture I stole off the internet.  But the view from our bedroom was almost as amazing.  We were literally 20 feet from the lake.  My mom's group is hosted by a Lutheran church in town, and so all the ladies were from the congregation.  I met some SUPER COOL people.  One nice lady invited me to go out for a run with her. After warning her that I am sooooooooooo sloooooooooooooow, and that I wouldn't be offended if she left me in her dust, I agreed.  (She told me, "Speed is an ability, but endurance is a gift."  Isn't that a sweet way of saying it's ok that I suck at running?  I know!)  We ran in the sand on the beach.  Well, we ran for a little bit.  RUNNING ON SAND IS HARD.  Then we walked.  And then it started to snow.  But I had my gloves on and my hat, and IT WAS SO PRETTY.   After we caught our breath, we started talking.  About babies and c-sections.  And then she mentioned that she was in the Peace Corps with her husband right after they got married.  That is pretty much the coolest thing ever, right?  She said they DIDN'T HAVE C-SECTIONS where she was.  Either the mom died or the baby died.  Craziness.  (SO THANKFUL FOR MODERN MEDICINE.  Even though the c-section rate in our country is horrible, blah blah blah, etc.  STILL GRATEFUL WE HAVE THEM.  And grateful I only had one.)  We were out for 1.5 hours, having so much fun &amp;amp; talking &amp;amp; enjoying the view.  When I finally got back to my room with my Mom's Group Peeps, they were freaking out a little big because, "No one goes running in the snow for an hour &amp;amp; a half!!!"  But you do with when it's that pretty!  (It wasn't really THAT snowy, the view was still great.  Just snowy enough to make us feel super tough and awesome.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved having a church service with my non-church friends.  I love that the girls were so happy to see me when I got home.  I love that they were all ready for church and I didn't have to do anything for them.  I love that Colby was nice enough to take on his children single-handedly for 48 hours so I could have a weekend away.  I love that Ella still had all her long, long hair when I got home and that Colby didn't cut it off in a fit of frustration (shout out to Amber &amp;amp; Grandma for brushing it in my absence!  Love you too!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am freakin' full of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all get a weekend away too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-8844293735234397742?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/8844293735234397742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=8844293735234397742' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8844293735234397742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/8844293735234397742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-love-lutherans.html' title='I Love Lutherans'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S5RxyG_-cBI/AAAAAAAABDU/67sQzUTGNLY/s72-c/tahoesnow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6177482113840166247</id><published>2010-02-28T21:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T21:41:06.152-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ER In Reno Is Nothing Like The One On TV</title><content type='html'>Just had to share...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess where we just were.  THE ER.  Guess why.  Because Gretchen did a face plant into a speaker box.  But 3 hours, 4 stitches in her forehead, and ONE HUGE BANDAID later, we're all recovered.  (It was totally gruesome.  Her forehead was cut all the way to the bone.  I almost threw up.  Colby almost fainted.  The Nurse Practitioner kept asking him if he was OK.  He was Edward-White, but without the sparkles.)  Gretchen was a total trooper.  She was thrilled about the huge bandaide.   She'll have a scar (sniff!), but nothing can keep The Gretch down.  She'll just look even tougher now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6177482113840166247?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6177482113840166247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6177482113840166247' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6177482113840166247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6177482113840166247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/02/er-in-reno-is-nothing-like-one-on-tv.html' title='The ER In Reno Is Nothing Like The One On TV'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-337869204294789525</id><published>2010-02-28T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T10:12:11.401-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ChChChChanges</title><content type='html'>Remember all that snow from last week? We barely do. There was still plenty around on Monday to call off school &amp;amp; make these beeeeaaauuutiful Snow Sculptures. And I was proud of my snow-sculpture building skillz, I actually rolled a ball of snow around to make a BIG GIANT BALL OF SNOW like they did on Charlie Brown (I get 75% of my life skills from TV, just so you know...) (Usually I just pat handfuls of snow together and it takes FOR. EVER. Charlie Brown totally knew what he was doing.) (Dude, I grew up in SoCal. I'd never even SEEN snow till I was 12.) Our initial plan was to make a Snow Unicorn, but then we got a little carried away with the icicles, and our artistic journey brought us to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqFIHkZgI/AAAAAAAABDE/fVAA49T96ss/s1600-h/20SnowDay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqFIHkZgI/AAAAAAAABDE/fVAA49T96ss/s320/20SnowDay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443350104685962754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porcupine Bear and Alien (as named by Ella)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqAuxUh2I/AAAAAAAABC8/LW7W9NXB_ew/s1600-h/21SnowDaySculptures.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqAuxUh2I/AAAAAAAABC8/LW7W9NXB_ew/s320/21SnowDaySculptures.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443350029162284898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the sun came out and melted all the snow. (Really it was the perfect snowstorm. Super pretty snow-dump one day, melted within three.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had two Craft Commitments this week to work on. Yesterday Gretchen helped me prepare a craft for my Mom's group. She's suuuuuuuuuper helpful. She can come over to help at your house anytime you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqAfsIT1I/AAAAAAAABC0/VGWEmEB-2eI/s1600-h/22GreenHanded.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqAfsIT1I/AAAAAAAABC0/VGWEmEB-2eI/s320/22GreenHanded.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443350025113980754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other craft was this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qszIIVIwI/AAAAAAAABDM/NNsmAmYxjEg/s1600-h/26RenoTemplePastel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qszIIVIwI/AAAAAAAABDM/NNsmAmYxjEg/s320/26RenoTemplePastel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443353093986394882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're selling prints of this pastel I made of the Reno Temple for our YW Camp Fundraiser.  Hopefully it doesn't look like the Haunted Temple anymore (I did it on gray toned paper - the color of the street - and before I put blossoms on the tree branches it looked a little...bleak...).  Anyway, I got prints of this made up and a display put together for the church foyer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;NOW FOR THE BIG NEWS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandpa Dennis got a job.  HOOORAY.  That is super fabulous and exciting.  He's been stressed about it, and we've been stressed for him.  We're all so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the job is in Utah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not Reno. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they're selling their house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house that we've been selfishly squatting in for 2.75 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we have some decisions to make.  We want to move out fairly soon so that it's easier for them to sell the house (paint, open up the rooms, not look like two families are co-habituating, etc.)  We're *thinking* that maybe we might buy a condo.  There are lots of scenarios running around in our heads right now, we're going to decide for sure today what we want to do.  WISH US LUCK.  But either way, we'll be renting our buying our very own home in the next few months.  OMGosh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Ella can't even comprehend what it will mean for us to NOT LIVE WITH GRANDMA AND GRANDPA.  It's overwhelming.  How can we not live with them?  How will they survive without small children throwing screaming fits to welcome them home at the end of the day?  Or invade their personal space by wiggling bony little bottoms into their laps at the most inopportune times?  Or knock on their door at 7am on Saturday and ask for breakfast because mom &amp;amp; dad aren't waking up?  Or emit ear-piercing screams every Sunday morning at bath time when they get their hair washed for church????  I know!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Krista came over to help deconstruct the guest room bed yesterday.  But first she constructed Gretchen's hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qp_9KsDzI/AAAAAAAABCs/eQzt16PH_IQ/s1600-h/23SillyKritsa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qp_9KsDzI/AAAAAAAABCs/eQzt16PH_IQ/s320/23SillyKritsa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443350015846911794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Krista, you're HILARIOUS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qp_ip2HAI/AAAAAAAABCk/5czSQbinRqI/s1600-h/24SoHilarious.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qp_ip2HAI/AAAAAAAABCk/5czSQbinRqI/s320/24SoHilarious.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443350008729836546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe not quite as hilarious as the Day After hair Gretchen is sportin' now.  I'm tempted to leave it like this for church.  Maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qp_aBlrfI/AAAAAAAABCc/r9JB-fOWyWE/s1600-h/25DayAfter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qp_aBlrfI/AAAAAAAABCc/r9JB-fOWyWE/s320/25DayAfter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443350006413503986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND MORE GOOD NEWS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Scary Body" in the closet?  I found out where Gretchen got that idea.  From Monsters Inc.  THANKS PIXAR!!!!  (I'm slightly relieved.  That was totally creeping me out.  Scary bodies?  Seriously, two year old?  Scary bodies?  Monsters I can handle....  But scary bodies?  Ugh.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-337869204294789525?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/337869204294789525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=337869204294789525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/337869204294789525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/337869204294789525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/02/chchchchanges.html' title='ChChChChanges'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4qqFIHkZgI/AAAAAAAABDE/fVAA49T96ss/s72-c/20SnowDay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-9113537618692823776</id><published>2010-02-22T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T10:03:30.402-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowsuit, Bathing Suit, Snowsuit</title><content type='html'>This week started out with a bang.  We had Monday off from school, so we went to Truckee to play in the snow with Ella's friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCjTnPGyI/AAAAAAAABCU/q7kx2Rv-bVU/s1600-h/12EllaCSnow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCjTnPGyI/AAAAAAAABCU/q7kx2Rv-bVU/s320/12EllaCSnow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441125211633031970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More photographic proof.  We went to Sugarbowl.  It is lovely, as you can see.  That's one good thing about Reno.  You drive 40 minutes in any direction &amp;amp; find magical surprises like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCcf0l5PI/AAAAAAAABCM/OmcUhaGKVIU/s1600-h/13FamilyPic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCcf0l5PI/AAAAAAAABCM/OmcUhaGKVIU/s320/13FamilyPic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441125094651192562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overlooking Donner Lake (it looks like he's standing on the edge of a cliff, but apparently it was only two feet from up from a gently sloping hill.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCcHJobDI/AAAAAAAABCE/NOtnGErX5vo/s1600-h/14DonnerLake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCcHJobDI/AAAAAAAABCE/NOtnGErX5vo/s320/14DonnerLake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441125088028552242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Mom!  Watch this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCbIwjfpI/AAAAAAAABB8/fW_u3pDjt10/s1600-h/15DonnerLake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCbIwjfpI/AAAAAAAABB8/fW_u3pDjt10/s320/15DonnerLake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441125071280373394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the week was filled with playdates and chores and cleaning the kitchen and making snacks and making cookies and more cleaning the kitchen, and more cleaning.  Saturday Ella had a Birthday Party at a local indoor pool.  Gretchen is a TOTAL WATER BABY.  She walked around the toddler pool for about two hours straight giggling.  Laps and laps and laps.  Ella climbed out and said, "Ok, I'm ready to go." and even after we gave Gretchen another 15 minutes of laps, she still screamed when we took her out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it snowed in Reno.  We got about a foot.  Here's more photographic proof:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCafUKj0I/AAAAAAAABB0/TlDTCgmrB2s/s1600-h/16SnowBackyard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCafUKj0I/AAAAAAAABB0/TlDTCgmrB2s/s320/16SnowBackyard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441125060155445058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Chocolate warms your soul.  And your chin.  And your belly.  And your pajamas that are doubling as a snow suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCZ8PMHEI/AAAAAAAABBs/iMsYkM0RfzE/s1600-h/17FabulousGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCZ8PMHEI/AAAAAAAABBs/iMsYkM0RfzE/s320/17FabulousGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441125050739334210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzwOAyGzc7g&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yzwOAyGzc7g&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/r6RZsL_Y3Pc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/r6RZsL_Y3Pc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen's new trick is to tell us that she's "Scared!" so that we'll pick her up and carry her everywhere.  We'll be on a walk &amp;amp; she'll decide she's tired.  Instead of saying, "Up please!", she says in a very dramatic voice, "I'm SCARED!  Scared!  Mommy!  Scared!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning Gretchen got a time-out for dumping her cup of water all over the floor (on purpose).  When I went to get her out of her crib after time-out, she kept pointing to the closet and saying, "SCARY!  SCARY BODY!  SCARY BODY!"  I told her the only thing in the closet are clothes &amp;amp; shoes &amp;amp; hats.  No scary bodies.  I showed her.  We looked together.  And she said, "No scary body?"  No.  Just a hat.  "Oh, just a hat."  Yeah.  So apparently she's added a whole new level of creepiness to her two-year-old-emotional-manipulations by adding a "scary body" to the mix.  She's tricky.  (No, we do NOT watch CSI.  I have no idea where she'd get this idea...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snowed so much that Ella's school was cancelled today.  We're going to go make a snow fort now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-9113537618692823776?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/9113537618692823776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=9113537618692823776' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9113537618692823776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/9113537618692823776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/02/snowsuit-bathing-suit-snowsuit.html' title='Snowsuit, Bathing Suit, Snowsuit'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S4LCjTnPGyI/AAAAAAAABCU/q7kx2Rv-bVU/s72-c/12EllaCSnow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5220334103111905113</id><published>2010-02-14T17:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T17:25:42.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Mine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hope your day so far has been full of flowers and chocolates and absolutely no sugar-low-induced temper tantrums.  And if you live more than 10 miles from us, just pretend I was on-the-ball enough to send you a real Valentine Greeting in the mail...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if I'd actually been organized to mail you a valentine, THIS is what it would have looked like (instead she just handed them out to her classmates &amp;amp; friends):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibpuPdISI/AAAAAAAABA8/RHvZIJeYGXU/s1600-h/6EllaValentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibpuPdISI/AAAAAAAABA8/RHvZIJeYGXU/s320/6EllaValentine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438267691139670306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Why yes, that IS Ella riding a trademarked pony over a field of green grass surrounded by flying blue peeps....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's Gretchen's (CUTEST BABY IN THE WORLD ALERT!!!)&lt;br /&gt;(I AM BIASED):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibp1bSFsI/AAAAAAAABBE/i6dEjnZHyEk/s1600-h/7GretchenValentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibp1bSFsI/AAAAAAAABBE/i6dEjnZHyEk/s320/7GretchenValentine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438267693068326594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday night, Ella's class had the CUTEST VALENTINES PROGRAM EVER.  It was a special romantic dinner just for the parents.  The kids brought us all a menu &amp;amp; then fetched our food for us.  We got to choose between cheese or pepperoni pizza, and what type of soda we wanted.  LUCKY!  (To be said in Napoleon Dynamite whine.)  I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idMmhMy5I/AAAAAAAABBk/w2CbulUijvE/s1600-h/8PizzaLine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idMmhMy5I/AAAAAAAABBk/w2CbulUijvE/s320/8PizzaLine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438269389873662866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they got their own pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idMdTowdI/AAAAAAAABBc/NQgqBNA6vmI/s1600-h/9Pizza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idMdTowdI/AAAAAAAABBc/NQgqBNA6vmI/s320/9Pizza.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438269387400856018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they played games while they waited for everyone to finish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idL2bCVEI/AAAAAAAABBU/XZnEAe3E7HQ/s1600-h/10PuzzleGame.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idL2bCVEI/AAAAAAAABBU/XZnEAe3E7HQ/s320/10PuzzleGame.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438269376962909250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they put on a program &amp;amp; sang songs and recited a poem.  SO CUTE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idLr7AAFI/AAAAAAAABBM/VzB60s6iTEE/s1600-h/11ClassPicture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3idLr7AAFI/AAAAAAAABBM/VzB60s6iTEE/s320/11ClassPicture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438269374144184402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Friday they had a class party.  Here's Ella taking her turn as "Valentine Mail-Girl".  (See the visor?  It's an official Valentine Mail Delivery Person visor.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibTf9iJ3I/AAAAAAAABAk/_uyQ8N8h7-k/s1600-h/3ValentineDelivery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibTf9iJ3I/AAAAAAAABAk/_uyQ8N8h7-k/s320/3ValentineDelivery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438267309349283698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so impressed with the haul of Valentine Treats Ella brought home with her.  Two boxes of chocolates, pencils, stickers &amp;amp; a plethora of other goodness.  One kid brought roses for EVERY GIRL IN THE CLASS.  A little girl looked at me and said, "He's my most favorite boy in the whole school."  Yeah.  He might be mine too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibS7ikt0I/AAAAAAAABAc/_ifl_01DpaE/s1600-h/4TotalKindergartenPlayer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibS7ikt0I/AAAAAAAABAc/_ifl_01DpaE/s320/4TotalKindergartenPlayer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438267299572528962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's Gretchen's favorite tattoo EVER.  (The one I was telling you about last week.  SCARY BABY!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibTykQgjI/AAAAAAAABA0/miHbD6vCJxM/s1600-h/01ScaryBabyTattoo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibTykQgjI/AAAAAAAABA0/miHbD6vCJxM/s320/01ScaryBabyTattoo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438267314343543346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week was crazy busy.  I finished my book proposal yesterday (going on the mail on TUESDAY.  Because tomorrow is a HOLIDAY!   Woot!)  I made invitations for the PTA fundraiser.  We volunteered for a study about addiction (as the "Non Addicted" participants.  I didn't tell them about my sugar habit, my book habit, or my Thursday NBC Lineup habit...)   AND we finished a service project with my mom's group.  PHEW.  AND I changed the sheets on the beds.  I know.  Pretty much amazing.  Now I'm going to go read my BFF Janeece's favorite book &amp;amp; write all over the pages.  LUCKY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LOVES TO YOU!!!!&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5220334103111905113?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5220334103111905113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5220334103111905113' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5220334103111905113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5220334103111905113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/02/be-mine.html' title='Be Mine'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S3ibpuPdISI/AAAAAAAABA8/RHvZIJeYGXU/s72-c/6EllaValentine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-6530349703377923257</id><published>2010-02-07T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:55:20.655-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fortnight of Fun</title><content type='html'>So I had the best intentions of catching up with my missed post from last week. But then I got super excited about this illustration project I'm working on &amp;amp; was TOO BUSY WORKING to talk about my kids. Weird. But true. Hopefully in another week I'll be mailing my new proposal to my rep &amp;amp; soon after making millions.  And then I can catch up with everything else I've been postponing.  Like changing the sheets on the bed.  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, besides paintings of kittens (Regular kittens, not zombie kittens.  Just in case you were wondering...), we actually had some fun times over the past two weeks.  My new fabulous friend J called one night and said, "Hey Apryl, have you heard of the band Phoenix?"  And I said, "No!"  And she said, "Want to come to a free concert with me?  VIP?"  And I said, "Definitely!"  And then I went online &amp;amp; did some research.  And HOW HAVE I NEVER HEARD OF THIS BAND BEFORE?  They are awesome and I had so much fun at the concert.  (Plus, they have ties with Daft Punk &amp;amp; the french band Air, both of which I am in love with.  SO COOL, I know.  Gretchen especially loves Daft Punk.  She has special dance moves for their songs &amp;amp; everything.) Going to a concert was way better than watching videos of my favorite bands on youtube.  Way better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NhhzV5Xv9Tw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NhhzV5Xv9Tw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27pzBpjjOI/AAAAAAAABAE/WvHBf4BcKNs/s1600-h/46AtTheConcert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 295px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27pzBpjjOI/AAAAAAAABAE/WvHBf4BcKNs/s320/46AtTheConcert.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435538863108099298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it was SO COOL of J to invite me to the show, I've tried to do something nice to say, "Thank you."  But J is too nice for me to repay.  Every time I try to do something for her, she just GOES AND DOES SOMETHING NICER IN RETURN.  I invite her for a playdate, she invites us over for a playdate and HOMEMADE LUNCH.  I will never make it up to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colby's BFF from back-in-the-day happened to be driving through Reno.  We met him &amp;amp; his family downtown to eat.  Photos by Ella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27oAkpTCKI/AAAAAAAAA_8/xX2KZJUHFEs/s1600-h/41ColbyPontificating.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27oAkpTCKI/AAAAAAAAA_8/xX2KZJUHFEs/s320/41ColbyPontificating.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435536896817301666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27oAXcUuvI/AAAAAAAAA_0/WSvD7TSmoBs/s1600-h/42SmileForElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27oAXcUuvI/AAAAAAAAA_0/WSvD7TSmoBs/s320/42SmileForElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435536893273225970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend L. from MOPS invited us over for a playdate.  They are awesome and win the award for "Most Kid Friendly House In Town".  They have a downstairs playroom with a door and a window (that is a fabulous combination.  Downstairs = don't have to drag lazy butts upstairs to check on kids.  Door = don't have to hear them.  Window = can peek in and make sure they're "making good choices".)  They had two (2!!!!) of those motorized cars for the kids to ride in.   And they have working radios, so they pumped up some mariachi music and cruised the backyard till the batteries ran out.  But the fun didn't end there.  Then the rabbits came out to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was one sad little catch.  Gretchen &amp;amp; Baby V got into blows over who got to drive the truck.  And Gretchen left marks.  It was sad.  At first it was funny (watching 2 year olds fight is hilarious.  You know, when you're not responsible for it....  But I AM responsible for it, so I had to break it up.  And just as I started walking towards them, Gretchen used her last 10 seconds of Full Contact to scratch his sweet little face.  Twice.  Grrrrr!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27oADLrHDI/AAAAAAAAA_s/Y0ELJ_J0-kY/s1600-h/43KidsWithRabbits.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27oADLrHDI/AAAAAAAAA_s/Y0ELJ_J0-kY/s320/43KidsWithRabbits.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435536887834680370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, watch what I can do with this rabbit!  Mom!  Watch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27n_4aRiGI/AAAAAAAAA_k/VLnpHmeTvec/s1600-h/44GretchenBunny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27n_4aRiGI/AAAAAAAAA_k/VLnpHmeTvec/s320/44GretchenBunny.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435536884943128674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Baby V.  We'll trim Gretchen's nails next time.  Sorry.  Sorry!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had about 50 books due back at the library, so I took JUST ELLA.  It was nice.  She doesn't pull books off the shelf or run screaming.  Usually.   And Ella picked out a new DVD.  Does this sound familiar?  MEKKA MEKKA HI MEKKA HINEY HO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27slD5d5_I/AAAAAAAABAM/Q85D2nsXAFU/s1600-h/47PW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 169px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27slD5d5_I/AAAAAAAABAM/Q85D2nsXAFU/s320/47PW.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435541921728423922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pee Wee's Playhouse was my favorite show when I was a kid.  The girls are SO FASCINATED by it.  And I forgot how brilliant that show was.  Hilarious.  And random.  And Miss Yvonne was such a hussy.  My word! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen kept her eyes glued to the screen until she found something she had to share.  Then she would yell it at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen:  MOM!  MOM!  MOM!&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What, honey?&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen:  IT'S BROKEN?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  It's broken?&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen:  YEAH!&lt;br /&gt;(in reference to something in the show opening?  The sign on the pine tree I think...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen:  MOM!  MOM!  MOM!&lt;br /&gt;Me:  What, honey?&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen:  ROBOTS!  UhUhUhUhUhUh (that's a robot sound).  ROBOTS!&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yeah, Robots, honey.&lt;br /&gt;(in reference to Conkey The Robot.  Secret Word Dispenser.  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when we get our own house, we're going to put in a glitter wall, a magic screen, and some talking flower boxes.  You're totally invited over to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen has also decided she likes me to draw "Tough Tattoos" on her.  The toughest thing she could think of last week was a "Scary Baby".  She pulls up her sleeve &amp;amp; growls at us when she shows it off.  And since it's church today, we're getting into the tub in about 5 seconds to wash "Scary Baby" away for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by next week we'll have Ella's Valentine ready.  Here's our posed picture, ready to photoshop into something fabulous.  WHAT WILL IT BE?  Leave your guesses in the comment section...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27n_pMTZJI/AAAAAAAAA_c/fUNFkLeasUA/s1600-h/45SoonToBeValentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27n_pMTZJI/AAAAAAAAA_c/fUNFkLeasUA/s320/45SoonToBeValentine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435536880857998482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAVE A GREAT WEEK!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-6530349703377923257?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/6530349703377923257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=6530349703377923257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6530349703377923257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/6530349703377923257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/02/fortnight-of-fun.html' title='Fortnight of Fun'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S27pzBpjjOI/AAAAAAAABAE/WvHBf4BcKNs/s72-c/46AtTheConcert.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-618079507700509726</id><published>2010-01-24T17:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T19:29:58.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yo Yo Momma</title><content type='html'>We were sitting in the car a few weeks ago &amp;amp; I heard an echo. Gretchen. Was singing along to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And while the Yeah Yeah Yeah's totally rock, it made me think, "Huh. Maybe I should be using this time in the car to broaden our cultural horizons." So I went to the library and got a copy of Yo Yo Ma's &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Appassionato-Yo-Ma/dp/B000KWZ7DS/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=music&amp;amp;qid=1264382255&amp;amp;sr=1-7"&gt;Appassionato.    &lt;/a&gt;(I heard Mr. Ma in an interview on the Diane Rehm show. He was so interesting! Listening to him talk about music made me want to be a better person. Here's a&lt;a href="http://wamu.org/programs/dr/08/01/21.php"&gt; link to the interview&lt;/a&gt; if you want to hear it.)  Anyway, we've been listening to it all week in the car.  Yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME:&lt;/span&gt;  Ella, isn't this song so beautiful?  What do you think it's about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ELLA:&lt;/span&gt;  Mom, what are you talking about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME:&lt;/span&gt;  When you close your eyes, do pictures about the music come into your head?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ELLA:&lt;/span&gt;  Yeah, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME:&lt;/span&gt;  What does this song make you think about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ELLA:&lt;/span&gt;  Food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: &lt;/span&gt; Are you hungry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ELLA: &lt;/span&gt; No.  Well, yeah, kinda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides broadening our cultural horizons through music, we've also tried a few new recipes. There's just no way our family will eat fish unless it's in "stick" form. But the homemade tootsie rolls were a semi hit. See the "special" one we made for Daddy? Awww, Daddy is so loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smile for the camera sweetie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwlMOwheI/AAAAAAAAA_M/FthG0fYlfz4/s1600-h/31SmileEllaOne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwlMOwheI/AAAAAAAAA_M/FthG0fYlfz4/s320/31SmileEllaOne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430479772430927330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, that wasn't a smile!  Try again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwk_pseQI/AAAAAAAAA_E/hUKeJkNfuuM/s1600-h/32SmileEllaTwo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwk_pseQI/AAAAAAAAA_E/hUKeJkNfuuM/s320/32SmileEllaTwo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430479769054247170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen has decided to start dressing herself.  It's going moderately well...at least she has clothes on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwkpWX5ZI/AAAAAAAAA-8/67na0OSoXek/s1600-h/33GretchenSelfStarter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwkpWX5ZI/AAAAAAAAA-8/67na0OSoXek/s320/33GretchenSelfStarter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430479763067626898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all about layering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwkQiytcI/AAAAAAAAA-0/SbytZzG_GwQ/s1600-h/34GretchenExplanation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwkQiytcI/AAAAAAAAA-0/SbytZzG_GwQ/s320/34GretchenExplanation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430479756408829378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1z1k8Q7eXI/AAAAAAAAA_U/1x4Z5TE_23U/s1600-h/36GrowAPony.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1z1k8Q7eXI/AAAAAAAAA_U/1x4Z5TE_23U/s320/36GrowAPony.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430485265703205234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I blew off Ella's requests as long as possible, we FINALLY put her "Grow Your Own Pony" in water. (Nanna Joy gave it to us in the Super Awesome Pack Of Car Fun she put together for the girls.  Thanks Nanna Joy!!!)  It grew slowly over a week. And we watched it get creepier and creepier. At it's height of creepiniess, Auntie Amber suggested we put it in a specimen jar and save it for Halloween. It would have been awesome. But we decided to take it out because it was king of stinkey. (Creepy and stinkey. A magical combination.) Then we got to watch is shrink down, and the legs curl up, and the strange sponge-like-texture DOESN'T GO AWAY. Poor pet pony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwkKDy_VI/AAAAAAAAA-s/5zZ0nJv3KwA/s1600-h/35GrowPony.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwkKDy_VI/AAAAAAAAA-s/5zZ0nJv3KwA/s320/35GrowPony.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430479754668211538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grow Your Own Pony just wants to be loved.  Anyone?  Anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what we've been up to!  What about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, HAPPY BIRTHDAY UNCLE TYLER!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-618079507700509726?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/618079507700509726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=618079507700509726' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/618079507700509726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/618079507700509726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/01/yo-yo-momma.html' title='Yo Yo Momma'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1zwlMOwheI/AAAAAAAAA_M/FthG0fYlfz4/s72-c/31SmileEllaOne.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-7280988546895797478</id><published>2010-01-17T09:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T09:53:35.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh, I guess we actually DID do something this week...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJkW9x4bI/AAAAAAAAA-c/mfcN20y4E6I/s1600-h/21SillyGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJkW9x4bI/AAAAAAAAA-c/mfcN20y4E6I/s320/21SillyGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762864900399538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey guys!  So when I first sat down to think about this week, I couldn't remember what we did.  Our life seems to be Stuck-At-Home-Boring or Non-Stop-Party.  We can't find a happy medium.  When we're stuck at home (above), the girls think of crazy things to do, like the "Marble Game" (below).  The "Marble Game" is pretty new (thank goodness). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Rules:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dump out Uncle Tyler's stash of marbles that were found in the closet over Thanksgiving.  &lt;br /&gt;-Pick up handfuls and try to roll (but inevitable THROW) marbles around the room.&lt;br /&gt;-Physically roll YOURSELF in the marbles.  (How can that be comfortable?!?!?)  Laugh hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;-Complain as mom makes you pick them all up.  Be sure to say, "But this will take for-EEEEEEBVER!!!" at least 30x.&lt;br /&gt;-As soon as they're all picked up, forget about how horribly draining it was to put them away and immediately dump them out again.&lt;br /&gt;-Repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJkDYulJI/AAAAAAAAA-U/jA6PI8mHPx0/s1600-h/22LostMarbles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJkDYulJI/AAAAAAAAA-U/jA6PI8mHPx0/s320/22LostMarbles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762859644720274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella has started spelling tests in Kindergarten.  I had to document.  Awwwww, learning is FUN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJc5VFPWI/AAAAAAAAA-M/i_CDaOs4Cz8/s1600-h/23SpellingTest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJc5VFPWI/AAAAAAAAA-M/i_CDaOs4Cz8/s320/23SpellingTest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762736685989218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school on Friday, a few of Ella's classmates met at the alluring Chuck E. Cheeses.  So lucky, I know.  Ah, the frantic faces of small children trying to garner as many "tickets" as possible to cash in for...a jelly bracelet.  They don't see the irony.   Luckily Gretchen is still small enough that climbing on the jet-ski-game is almost as much fun as actually PLAYING the jet ski game.  Fun was had by all.  Even the parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJ1DIhFFI/AAAAAAAAA-k/-LiAndnGc8w/s1600-h/28JetSkiGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJ1DIhFFI/AAAAAAAAA-k/-LiAndnGc8w/s320/28JetSkiGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427763151634502738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by far the cutest thing we've done for a long time?  Ella's school had a Winter Formal last week.  A WINTER FORMAL.  For Kindergartners.  Oh my gosh.  It was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJctzCKlI/AAAAAAAAA-E/MIVfbY9Pizo/s1600-h/24DancingGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJctzCKlI/AAAAAAAAA-E/MIVfbY9Pizo/s320/24DancingGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762733590391378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first Ella was intimidated by the flashing lights and loud music (luckily M.J. was on heavy rotation).  But pretty soon she was leading the conga line.  Except she thought it was a "train line", so she kept pumping her arm &amp;amp; saying, "Choo CHOO!!!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJcTg5emI/AAAAAAAAA98/rFRxy6ACUBs/s1600-h/25Dancers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJcTg5emI/AAAAAAAAA98/rFRxy6ACUBs/s320/25Dancers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762726535002722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Auntie Amber stopped by and said...&lt;br /&gt;Amber:  Hey, I'm going to go try on wedding dresses, want to come?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Uh, you mean with the girls?&lt;br /&gt;Amber:  Sure, why not?&lt;br /&gt;(Now imagine every crazy thing they could do at a formal wear shop.  Yes, they did that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave Ella the camera so she'd stop crawling through racks of $2000 dresses.  Amber decided NOT to get this one.  So pretty though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJcKjH1CI/AAAAAAAAA90/UJW6Kzf1MZQ/s1600-h/26AmberDress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJcKjH1CI/AAAAAAAAA90/UJW6Kzf1MZQ/s320/26AmberDress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762724128412706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A MESSAGE TO WEDDING DRESS DESIGNERS:&lt;br /&gt;Hey, we know you're really busy debating pearls vs. rhinestones, but could you PLEASE make some dresses that aren't strapless?  Believe it or not, SOME PEOPLE WANT STRAPS.  I know, weird.  That'd be super great though.  Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJbgP6esI/AAAAAAAAA9s/W3Ie7f61fbE/s1600-h/27WeddingDressShoppingFaces.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJbgP6esI/AAAAAAAAA9s/W3Ie7f61fbE/s320/27WeddingDressShoppingFaces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427762712773556930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That about sums up our week.  Gretchen didn't sneak out of her crib too much.  Ella is smart.  It's supposed to snow tomorrow.  Don't worry, you'll hear all about it next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-7280988546895797478?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/7280988546895797478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=7280988546895797478' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7280988546895797478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/7280988546895797478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/01/huh-i-guess-we-actually-did-do.html' title='Huh, I guess we actually DID do something this week...'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S1NJkW9x4bI/AAAAAAAAA-c/mfcN20y4E6I/s72-c/21SillyGretchen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4201605460168953311</id><published>2010-01-10T11:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T11:29:10.742-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Their Natural State</title><content type='html'>So, we're kind of having a problem.  Gretchen can crawl out of her crib.  And I'll be sitting, enjoying "Kid Free Time", thinking everything is wonderful and my baby is sleeping soundly.  But actually Gretchen will be covering herself with diaper cream.  Or talking to the birds out the window.  Or screaming, "AIRPLANE!  Mom.  AIRPLANE!"  Which is when I will discover this: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0ooBxFGwdI/AAAAAAAAA9k/v6DuKxyGYVo/s1600-h/11GretchenNaturalState.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0ooBxFGwdI/AAAAAAAAA9k/v6DuKxyGYVo/s320/11GretchenNaturalState.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425192711940915666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to have to think of a solution.  Barbed wire is out.  Other suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask Ella for help, she's really busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0ooBGWn_sI/AAAAAAAAA9c/8g6Yatj27kk/s1600-h/10EllaNaturalHabitat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0ooBGWn_sI/AAAAAAAAA9c/8g6Yatj27kk/s320/10EllaNaturalHabitat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425192700471672514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do have some good news.  We went to a party last night with LOTS of kids, LOTS of noise and LOTS of toys to fight over.  And Gretchen didn't injure ANYONE!  She played happily and was kind to all.  Dare we even hope that her reign of terror is coming to an end?  I'm afraid to even dream it, lest my hopes be dashed.  Again.  Maybe it was just the Terrible Ones?  Maybe?  Oh please let all the time-outs and, "We're gentle with our hands..." talks and be working.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4201605460168953311?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4201605460168953311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4201605460168953311' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4201605460168953311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4201605460168953311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-their-natural-state.html' title='In Their Natural State'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0ooBxFGwdI/AAAAAAAAA9k/v6DuKxyGYVo/s72-c/11GretchenNaturalState.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-904429599944450456</id><published>2010-01-03T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T21:58:56.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Packed Away For Another Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Non-Family Related Activity Whilst In California:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella had recently voiced her desire to visit a "real museum".  (Possibly because she loves the book "Olivia", and on rainy days, Olivia goes to the museum to look at Jackson Pollock and Degas paintings.  Then she gets in trouble for recreating a Jackson Pollock at home.  Time out.)  And really, is there a cooler museum than the Getty?  We went.  It was wonderful.  We stayed for about 4 hours, saw MAYBE 1/3 of their collection, and loved it.  They had these cool "Art Detective" cards at the front desk for kids.  They had a portion of a painting, a room number, and the kids had to find which piece of art it came from.  Ella was definitely into it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  (after looking at the Irises painting by Van Gogh)  Ella, do you realize you're seeing some of the most famous artwork in the whole world?  We are so lucky!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ella:&lt;/span&gt;  Yes mom.  Because you've already told me that three times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;  What's been your favorite part so far?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ella:&lt;/span&gt;  The tram ride.  It was like the tram at Disneyland.  It was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But really, she liked the museum too.  Granted, the tram is pretty impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen liked the naked statues.  She kept pointing at them and saying, "Nurse?"  Then laughing because she knew she was hi-larious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that outing, the rest of the trip was All Family All The Time.  Good thing we all like each other.  Christmas morning we went to Poppa Randy's house to open stockings.  We coordinated with Santa to leave our stuff there.  He's so nice, that Santa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F-AD6ugII/AAAAAAAAA9U/SkSyJZBtb7w/s1600-h/41ChristmasMorningGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F-AD6ugII/AAAAAAAAA9U/SkSyJZBtb7w/s320/41ChristmasMorningGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753965847511170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9_9Be-4I/AAAAAAAAA9M/qOBpribzggw/s1600-h/42ChristmasMorningGretchen2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9_9Be-4I/AAAAAAAAA9M/qOBpribzggw/s320/42ChristmasMorningGretchen2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753963996806018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture of the girls with Grandpa Conrad just cracks me up.  Ella is such a good poser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vwsapaI/AAAAAAAAA9E/ZM9--zPmvJg/s1600-h/43ChristmasGrandpa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vwsapaI/AAAAAAAAA9E/ZM9--zPmvJg/s320/43ChristmasGrandpa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753685809309090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helicopter toy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vo1q_7I/AAAAAAAAA88/UaK5OCkR8sE/s1600-h/44ChristmasHelicopter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vo1q_7I/AAAAAAAAA88/UaK5OCkR8sE/s320/44ChristmasHelicopter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753683700645810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we grow up, we want a hot tub and a pool.  Dear Uncle Aaron &amp;amp; Aunt B, we may just move in...  Hope that's cool with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vW3bd6I/AAAAAAAAA80/Q0gHl4I6nnc/s1600-h/45HotTubbinElla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vW3bd6I/AAAAAAAAA80/Q0gHl4I6nnc/s320/45HotTubbinElla.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753678876178338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen was so mad when we made her get out of the hot tub.  (I was worried about leaving her in for too long, the water was so hot.  She was literally steaming when I sat her on the edge of the hot tub.  Steam rolling off her.  She was not happy to be out of the water.  She wanted to cook.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vOaCxAI/AAAAAAAAA8s/59M7lwnxkdg/s1600-h/45HotTubbinMomAndGretchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9vOaCxAI/AAAAAAAAA8s/59M7lwnxkdg/s320/45HotTubbinMomAndGretchen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753676605441026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom thought this was a goofy picture, but I think she looks cute.  Plus, I love that gray wall in Aaron &amp;amp; B's kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9u7_dy_I/AAAAAAAAA8k/8fVN_x9sXqI/s1600-h/46MomCookingSalad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9u7_dy_I/AAAAAAAAA8k/8fVN_x9sXqI/s320/46MomCookingSalad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753671662128114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New basketball hoop!  Merry freakin' Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9YTbc6fI/AAAAAAAAA8c/R5yU8zEWKc8/s1600-h/47Hoops.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9YTbc6fI/AAAAAAAAA8c/R5yU8zEWKc8/s320/47Hoops.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753282816535026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen &amp;amp; her adorable 2nd cousin.  Awwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9X33VgWI/AAAAAAAAA8U/zV3K3Q0GriM/s1600-h/CelesteGretchen1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9X33VgWI/AAAAAAAAA8U/zV3K3Q0GriM/s320/CelesteGretchen1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753275417297250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9Xa5mbCI/AAAAAAAAA8E/k9Wk2E-TTtA/s1600-h/ElisabethAndElizabeth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9Xa5mbCI/AAAAAAAAA8E/k9Wk2E-TTtA/s320/ElisabethAndElizabeth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753267642166306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got back to Reno.  And for New Years we partied at TWO PEOPLE'S houses.  I actually didn't go to bed until 2.  I know, it was like I was back in college.  Crazy.  Then the next day we drove to Truckee to go sledding.   Here's Ella &amp;amp; her BFF all decked out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9W8gT3BI/AAAAAAAAA78/ULrHS-nqXjM/s1600-h/001SleddingFriends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F9W8gT3BI/AAAAAAAAA78/ULrHS-nqXjM/s320/001SleddingFriends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422753259483028498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my camera died.  But pretend I got a picture of Gretchen so excited about sledding that she couldn't wait for a sled.  She just threw herself down the hill and slid on her belly.  Multiple times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dog-sat Cooper, Auntie Amber's dog.  And now we were grateful for our cat.  Our cat doesn't tear up the garbage and eat things (things that I will not mention, that's how gross it they were.  Ugh.  Baby, stop kissing the dog!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8eBmoWgI/AAAAAAAAA70/rmlQ7f4glHs/s1600-h/01GretchenCooper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 309px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8eBmoWgI/AAAAAAAAA70/rmlQ7f4glHs/s320/01GretchenCooper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422752281599171074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday we went on a Family Adventure.  We got Vietnamese for lunch downtown.  Ella really wanted a coconut.  Till she tried it.  I got to finish it.  Yay me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8dpBoDDI/AAAAAAAAA7k/oyMsBpXE19Q/s1600-h/03Coconuts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8dpBoDDI/AAAAAAAAA7k/oyMsBpXE19Q/s320/03Coconuts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422752275001510962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gretchen really wanted rice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8dWLS6nI/AAAAAAAAA7c/U8Jv9J_n6eM/s1600-h/04GFace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8dWLS6nI/AAAAAAAAA7c/U8Jv9J_n6eM/s320/04GFace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422752269941795442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to throw herself off the bridge over the Truckee River downtown.  See my hand holding her back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8c9X589I/AAAAAAAAA7U/ItC6JFPmifk/s1600-h/05GBridge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8c9X589I/AAAAAAAAA7U/ItC6JFPmifk/s320/05GBridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422752263283798994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8d1NrckI/AAAAAAAAA7s/Gch6bDRIuWM/s1600-h/02EllaChristmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F8d1NrckI/AAAAAAAAA7s/Gch6bDRIuWM/s320/02EllaChristmas.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422752278273290818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Christmas is all packed up for another year.  Tomorrow Ella starts kindergarten again.  We had a great time being with both our extended family and just the four of us this holiday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'll got to bed so I can wake up at the crack of dawn &amp;amp; be a responsible adult.  Or at least pretend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-904429599944450456?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/904429599944450456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=904429599944450456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/904429599944450456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/904429599944450456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2010/01/packed-away-for-another-year.html' title='Packed Away For Another Year'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/S0F-AD6ugII/AAAAAAAAA9U/SkSyJZBtb7w/s72-c/41ChristmasMorningGretchen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-5667546121631687389</id><published>2009-12-29T20:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T20:40:37.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That Wedding I've Been Talking About</title><content type='html'>Hello Dear Family &amp;amp; Friends-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it back from our trip to California where my sister got hitched. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey look, we took the girls to Olvera street and met up with family for lunch. We pretended we were in Mexico &amp;amp; looked at all the lovely stalls and told the girls they couldn't buy anything because we couldn't fit ONE MORE THING in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrM-DxSRrI/AAAAAAAAA7E/S1D3CTn84rA/s1600-h/21OlveraStreet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrM-DxSRrI/AAAAAAAAA7E/S1D3CTn84rA/s320/21OlveraStreet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420870468029793970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey look! We walked through Union Station. Ella got all artistic on us and shot lots of cool pictures. Again. And now I'm making you look at them. Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrM9yTpDmI/AAAAAAAAA68/seoh7XOuC7o/s1600-h/22UnionStation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrM9yTpDmI/AAAAAAAAA68/seoh7XOuC7o/s320/22UnionStation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420870463342055010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She posed her puppy for this shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMydusuqI/AAAAAAAAA60/a6iYofwDV6M/s1600-h/23PuppyStudyUnionStation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMydusuqI/AAAAAAAAA60/a6iYofwDV6M/s320/23PuppyStudyUnionStation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420870268839836322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bet you didn't think it could get any cuter.  IT JUST DID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMyNjB0cI/AAAAAAAAA6s/8nrE4Gtup_w/s1600-h/24GretchenPuppyStudyUnionStation.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMyNjB0cI/AAAAAAAAA6s/8nrE4Gtup_w/s320/24GretchenPuppyStudyUnionStation.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420870264495919554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure this is my favorite shot she's ever taken.  HOW CUTE IS THIS?  Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMx_f91iI/AAAAAAAAA6k/HlTTwNpbyqE/s1600-h/25FeetSelfPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMx_f91iI/AAAAAAAAA6k/HlTTwNpbyqE/s320/25FeetSelfPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420870260724979234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice color &amp;amp; texture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMxVFy2sI/AAAAAAAAA6c/kneZrk9vrUw/s1600-h/26BenchStudy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMxVFy2sI/AAAAAAAAA6c/kneZrk9vrUw/s320/26BenchStudy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420870249340918466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember how my sister Autumn was going to get married? Yeah, we've been excited about that. NOW SHE'S MARRIED! Yay! We met her Friday afternoon to set up for the reception. The light was pretty, so I made Colby take a picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMRlttUAI/AAAAAAAAA6M/p9_2ZuxyFbQ/s1600-h/28FamilyPortraitAttempt1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMRlttUAI/AAAAAAAAA6M/p9_2ZuxyFbQ/s320/28FamilyPortraitAttempt1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869704047480834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what Ella thinks of the Family Statue. (Also, I'm pretty sure that statue-baby was originally nursing &amp;amp; then got censored...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMRbmGycI/AAAAAAAAA6E/x2YHeXgvkm4/s1600-h/29EllaFamilyStatue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMRbmGycI/AAAAAAAAA6E/x2YHeXgvkm4/s320/29EllaFamilyStatue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869701331241410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, we'll help you set up for your reception. Oh wait. We need to tie sashes around 180 chairs and hang lights? Uh, sorry, we're busy... (Thank heavens for portable DVD players.) Do Autumn's eyes look slightly glazed over? Yup. 100 more paper lanterns to assemble, 153 more sashes to tie....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMRI89NsI/AAAAAAAAA58/fsS5ongcSOQ/s1600-h/30SettingUpReception.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMRI89NsI/AAAAAAAAA58/fsS5ongcSOQ/s320/30SettingUpReception.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869696326809282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quit with the picture taking and start with the sash tying!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMQ4AIOCI/AAAAAAAAA50/zjWqbVtWHJ0/s1600-h/31StopTakingPicturesAndHelpAlready.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMQ4AIOCI/AAAAAAAAA50/zjWqbVtWHJ0/s320/31StopTakingPicturesAndHelpAlready.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869691776710690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another of Ella's photography studies, which may or may not have been digitally enhanced in photoshop because I am a nerd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMQqDtFNI/AAAAAAAAA5s/QHikIWdtmiM/s1600-h/32ChairStudy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMQqDtFNI/AAAAAAAAA5s/QHikIWdtmiM/s320/32ChairStudy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869688033613010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning of the wedding we met Autumn at her friend's apartment (where we might have accidentally stolen a curling iron), and we got The Bride ready. Adrianne made Autumn's hair real hair pretty. Then she asked, "Do you think it's ok if I wear fishnet stockings inside the temple?" Mom said it was ok. MOM SAID IT WAS OK!!! hee hee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMEetgoZI/AAAAAAAAA5k/9tscamKsHlE/s1600-h/33FishNets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMEetgoZI/AAAAAAAAA5k/9tscamKsHlE/s320/33FishNets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869478829302162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they got married and had a lovely reception. Awwwww. In the temple, the helper-ladies were overheard saying, "Wow, she's so low key!"  Yup.  Once we finally got everything set up, it was a low key and super awesome wedding.  (I didn't take ANY PICTURES because &lt;a href="http://www.christinadomingues.com/"&gt;Christiana&lt;/a&gt;, the Wedding Photographer Extraordinaire is so awesome, I knew I wouldn't need to. I actually stole this picture from Christy. Thanks &lt;a href="http://www.geeksix.com/2009/12/congratulations-autumn/"&gt;Christy!&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMEECj2hI/AAAAAAAAA5c/0H0JXcSm1E8/s1600-h/34AutumnDrewGeekyLove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMEECj2hI/AAAAAAAAA5c/0H0JXcSm1E8/s320/34AutumnDrewGeekyLove.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869471669836306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I took ONE picture.  Of Gretchen loving her cousin.  Smooshie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMDnEPp2I/AAAAAAAAA5U/xv08r_Kz6Aw/s1600-h/35GretchenBabyLove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMDnEPp2I/AAAAAAAAA5U/xv08r_Kz6Aw/s320/35GretchenBabyLove.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869463892272994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 204, 204); font-family: georgia;"&gt;WEDDING HIGHLIGHTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-In honor of their marriage, Autumn presented Drew with a replica of the medal that Princess Leia gave her boyz after they defeated the Death Star. She even had a case for it engraved. True love.&lt;br /&gt;-Our super amazing music teacher came &amp;amp; played her Hammered Dulcimer. She is amazing. Did I mention how amazing Patty is? Amazing.&lt;br /&gt;-Autumn's folk band played rousing hits such as the tune from "Legend of Zelda", the theme song from the ORIGINAL Super Mario Brother's game (which is now stuck in my head. Lovely.), the Ewok song (Zub Zub!!!), and more.&lt;br /&gt;-Autumn was gifted with a replica Ton Ton head. It will soon be made into a bear-skin-esque throw rug. You know, to keep her warm on cold winter nights on the planet Hoth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrVAFPjphI/AAAAAAAAA7M/lnNHrQGWVmM/s1600-h/ton+ton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 217px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrVAFPjphI/AAAAAAAAA7M/lnNHrQGWVmM/s320/ton+ton.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420879298877957650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I didn't mention the Video Game Themed cookies yet, did I?  Tetris shapes have never tasted so good.&lt;br /&gt;-I'm sure there's more awesomeness I'm forgetting.  This list is not all inclusive.  There was too much to remember.  Every turn held new surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Gretchen turned two. And Nanna Joy made her a cake. And hung a banner. And was generally "on the ball". Guess who forgot to even GIVE Gretchen her birthday present. (Present, as in ONE. And I still forgot to give it to her. Oh well, one more for Christmas. Get used to getting screwed over on your birthday, poor Christmas Baby...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMDWcl17I/AAAAAAAAA5M/7IIRwZBK8l4/s1600-h/36BirthdayGirl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMDWcl17I/AAAAAAAAA5M/7IIRwZBK8l4/s320/36BirthdayGirl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869459430987698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please don't screw me over!  Give me presents!  I'm cute!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMDK23EVI/AAAAAAAAA5E/6phQ02XhOME/s1600-h/37NannaJoyCake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrMDK23EVI/AAAAAAAAA5E/6phQ02XhOME/s320/37NannaJoyCake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420869456319942994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DD3q5pc9HIE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DD3q5pc9HIE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're very grateful for Gretchen.  She is silly and sweet.  You always know where you stand with her (because if she's mad at you, YOU KNOW.)  She's learning that "we are gentle with our hands" and makes better choices every day.  She gives nice big hugs and pats your back.  She is good at dancing, making silly faces, and singing.  She tells funny jokes that we can't understand because she only knows a handful of words.  She likes to go "Bye Bye" (even if Mom doesn't always like taking her bye bye...)  She loves monkeys and Yo Gabba Gabba and candy.  And candy.  And candy.  We love Gretchen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(There's a book called "Hands Are Not For Hitting".  She got it from Grandma for Christmas.  Thanks Grandma!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and Hanukkah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-5667546121631687389?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/5667546121631687389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=5667546121631687389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5667546121631687389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/5667546121631687389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2009/12/that-wedding-ive-been-talking-about.html' title='That Wedding I&apos;ve Been Talking About'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SzrM-DxSRrI/AAAAAAAAA7E/S1D3CTn84rA/s72-c/21OlveraStreet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-816204096142187501</id><published>2009-12-13T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T16:10:10.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi Y'all</title><content type='html'>Dear Friends &amp;amp; Family-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what we've been up to....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posing (hey kid, clean your room!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV9RO2jX_I/AAAAAAAAA38/-5RKeC99gLs/s1600-h/1EllaPose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV9RO2jX_I/AAAAAAAAA38/-5RKeC99gLs/s320/1EllaPose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414871861981044722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Decorating the tree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV9Q1X_aHI/AAAAAAAAA30/fntSUvy6Vkk/s1600-h/2Tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV9Q1X_aHI/AAAAAAAAA30/fntSUvy6Vkk/s320/2Tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414871855141972082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow days (Gretchen insisted on wearing the Goofy Hat)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8Uh1cwcI/AAAAAAAAA28/jW1vNiyytls/s1600-h/3GretchenSnow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8Uh1cwcI/AAAAAAAAA28/jW1vNiyytls/s320/3GretchenSnow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870819104670146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow Angels with Dad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8USsEVYI/AAAAAAAAA20/lsoEOK7Iu74/s1600-h/4SnowAngels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8USsEVYI/AAAAAAAAA20/lsoEOK7Iu74/s320/4SnowAngels.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870815038788994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sledding down the street!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8UH4ZzmI/AAAAAAAAA2s/cgMQbYd7SUc/s1600-h/5Sledding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8UH4ZzmI/AAAAAAAAA2s/cgMQbYd7SUc/s320/5Sledding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870812137737826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Ella got a hold of the camera again.  Pensive Self Portrait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8T9MYyOI/AAAAAAAAA2k/oi1zOUQUL4U/s1600-h/6EllaSelfPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8T9MYyOI/AAAAAAAAA2k/oi1zOUQUL4U/s320/6EllaSelfPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870809268766946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stunning depiction of Grandpa (I'm pretty sure he just finished shoveling the walk)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8TpnQh8I/AAAAAAAAA2c/K7n9y5Y8KR8/s1600-h/6GrandpaPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV8TpnQh8I/AAAAAAAAA2c/K7n9y5Y8KR8/s320/6GrandpaPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870804012763074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super flattering picture of me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV7-80dgMI/AAAAAAAAA2U/L5Q5Pg4W2CU/s1600-h/7MomPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV7-80dgMI/AAAAAAAAA2U/L5Q5Pg4W2CU/s320/7MomPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870448391160002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Dad (who thinks he got all A's last semester. GO COLBY!!!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV7-iZNt_I/AAAAAAAAA2M/tcvIAOs7iyA/s1600-h/9DadPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV7-iZNt_I/AAAAAAAAA2M/tcvIAOs7iyA/s320/9DadPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870441297557490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And me again.  Even more flattering this time (we were playing "house" while Gretchen was napping, and she put me to bed, and I may or may not have actually FALLEN ASLEEP.  Hence her finding the camera &amp;amp; being all photographic with it...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV7-aG20BI/AAAAAAAAA2E/dn2BunYG4vU/s1600-h/10MomSleepingStudy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV7-aG20BI/AAAAAAAAA2E/dn2BunYG4vU/s320/10MomSleepingStudy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870439073075218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her ceiling &amp;amp; lanterns...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV797himLI/AAAAAAAAA18/Gjm4L1jcBTo/s1600-h/11LanternPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV797himLI/AAAAAAAAA18/Gjm4L1jcBTo/s320/11LanternPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870430863497394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And her bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV79hn2i6I/AAAAAAAAA10/RhkuqUnJ3iI/s1600-h/12BearPortrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV79hn2i6I/AAAAAAAAA10/RhkuqUnJ3iI/s320/12BearPortrait.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414870423910648738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm finally done talking now.  We hope you've had a wonderful week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-816204096142187501?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/816204096142187501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=816204096142187501' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/816204096142187501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/816204096142187501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2009/12/hi-yall.html' title='Hi Y&apos;all'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SyV9RO2jX_I/AAAAAAAAA38/-5RKeC99gLs/s72-c/1EllaPose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-3339941663208185724</id><published>2009-12-03T13:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T13:41:13.358-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>Hello Dear Family &amp;amp; Friends-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Thanksgiving was loud, fun, happy, crazy and loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Number of People Sleeping At The House:&lt;/span&gt;  14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;People Eating Thanksgiving Dinner:&lt;/span&gt;  19&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Chunks Of Matia's Hair Pulled Out By Gretchen:&lt;/span&gt;  3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Time Outs:&lt;/span&gt;  5,000&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Trips To The Emergency Room:&lt;/span&gt;  1 (Baby had a UTI and 104.6 temperature.  :(   All better now...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Heard During Ella's Prayer:&lt;/span&gt;  "Thank you that our family can all leave now."  (Not really.  But maybe a little bit.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tis the Season for Oprah's list of favorite things. But since we don't leave the house (except to mess up other people's houses during playdates), I can't tell you what's in the stores. So our list of Favorite Things is completely random and mostly free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ella's Favorites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Song:&lt;/span&gt; Santa's Coming To Town.  Because it's my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Color:&lt;/span&gt;  All of them.  Green is the best.  Because it's my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Food:&lt;/span&gt;  Strawberries.  Because they taste good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Thing To Do:&lt;/span&gt;  Play Barbies with Mom.  Cause it makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Playdate:&lt;/span&gt;  Going out to lunch.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(But going out to lunch requires spending $ AND leaving the house.  So that's an every-other-week kind of playdate...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Youtube Video: &lt;/span&gt; HORRIBLE QUALITY!  They still can't get enough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2g7XtL21LDE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2g7XtL21LDE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gretchen's Favorites:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Song: &lt;/span&gt; Popcorn Popping, Itsy Bitsy Spider, Jesus Wants Me for a SUNBEAM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Food:&lt;/span&gt;  CANDY CANDY CANDY.  Candy?  Candy?  CAAAAAAN-DEEEE!  Candy?  Candy?  Candy?   Candy?  ........ Candy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Thing To Do:&lt;/span&gt; Get into things. Assert herself agressively. Throw dramatic temper tantrums. Laugh. Copy Ella. Make Ella Crazy. Read stories. Say, "Momma!" over &amp;amp; over again. Crawl onto my laugh and jump on me. Dance. Laugh again. Make faces. Laugh. Repeat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Thing To Wear:&lt;/span&gt;  "Gabba Shirt!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 102);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Apryl's Favorites:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Food:&lt;/span&gt;  Candy.  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Old Favorite But Still Favorite Blog:&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;a href="http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/"&gt;Awkward Family Photos.&lt;/a&gt;  The best kind of voyeurism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite New Website:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;imeem.com&lt;/a&gt; (Thanks Meghan!) You can listen to almost any music out there FOR FREE. It's even legal. Whole albums. That's right, you can hear the &lt;a href="http://www.jinglecats.com/"&gt;Jingle Cat's&lt;/a&gt; album for free.  You're welcome.  (&lt;a href="http://www.pandora.com/"&gt;Pandora&lt;/a&gt; kicked me off when I reached my 40 hour monthly limit.  Apparently I listen to a lot of music.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite New Thing To Waste My Time Doing Online: &lt;/span&gt; Watch youtube videos of my favorite musicians. Clips from concerts, etc. It's almost like having a real life, except that you don't. Oh Andrew Bird, do you feel the special connection we share? So what if I'm married with two small children.... Watch what he does with the looping violin. I know. I KNOW!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/p0TWJbxHQ6Y&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/p0TWJbxHQ6Y&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm pretty much ready to move into an Artist Loft in the city now and learn to play the trumpet. Do you think they're zoned for good schools?:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hq2s0AhdFE4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hq2s0AhdFE4&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So share with us now, what are YOUR new favorite things?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-3339941663208185724?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/3339941663208185724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=3339941663208185724' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/3339941663208185724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/3339941663208185724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2009/12/our-favorite-things.html' title='Our Favorite Things'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-4139800987204551894</id><published>2009-11-22T18:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:34:56.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Frosting Incident and Other Stories</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VH89FeZKmXc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VH89FeZKmXc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello dear Family &amp;amp; Friends!  Last week was spent feeling mostly overwhelmed and with too much stuff to do.  I may have been heard saying, "Dude, if anyone asks me to do ONE MORE THING, I'm going to loose it."  And when I reached my limit &amp;amp; started saying, "Sorry, no," then I felt guilty.  And then I overcompensated.  Which explains how children ended up with frosting facials.  I was making "Value Colored" cupcakes for a &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/pa/display/0,17884,6885-1,00.html"&gt;special meeting&lt;/a&gt; with the youth at church.  I was also wondering if swearing under your breath while trying to be of service takes away blessings.   Especially if the theme of the meeting is:"&lt;i&gt;Be strong and of a good courage&lt;/i&gt;; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest" (&lt;a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/en/josh/1/9#9" target="_blank" class="featureslink"&gt;Joshua 1:9&lt;/a&gt;; italics added).  Well, shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all my commitments are almost ALMOST finished, and then we can concentrate on the PARTY THIS WEEK!  (Eight more people in this house?  Really?  And two of them are Gretchen &amp;amp; Matia?  Should be an adventure...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3813265142300318548-4139800987204551894?l=bloggingstotts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/feeds/4139800987204551894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3813265142300318548&amp;postID=4139800987204551894' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4139800987204551894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3813265142300318548/posts/default/4139800987204551894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bloggingstotts.blogspot.com/2009/11/frosting-incident-and-other-stories.html' title='The Frosting Incident and Other Stories'/><author><name>Apryl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03615088624995560587</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SdLGv3Q6oOI/AAAAAAAAAWU/R413JTCMLDM/S220/bloggerpic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3813265142300318548.post-1682948747469997522</id><published>2009-11-15T14:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T14:32:03.331-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty Princesses</title><content type='html'>Today was Stake Conference, so instead of regular church (where Gretchen's reign of terror in the nursery is slowly morphing into an easy dictatorship) we had a two hour meeting with all the local congregations. You sit on folding chairs* in a darkened room (cause there are so many people there, they use a projector &amp;amp; extra TVs so everyone can watch the talks) for TWO HOURS. What do you do in a dark room with two small children and hundreds of witnesses? You do a lot of coloring. And then play with some dolls. And then eat some snacks. And then draw some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Ella as a princess, eating a tortilla chip.  Then Ella drew some princesses too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9hu6uEyI/AAAAAAAAA1k/awnDlyKtw_4/s1600-h/21DrawingFun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9hu6uEyI/AAAAAAAAA1k/awnDlyKtw_4/s320/21DrawingFun.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404457571328070434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh, what's that on the princess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9hHrf5pI/AAAAAAAAA1c/2HorfvanPdY/s1600-h/22Princess.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9hHrf5pI/AAAAAAAAA1c/2HorfvanPdY/s320/22Princess.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404457560795244178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, it's the PRINCESS SLEEVES.  (Gross, what did you think it was?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9hG5KL8I/AAAAAAAAA1U/0TgBy6cFq-0/s1600-h/23PrincessSleeves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 271px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9hG5KL8I/AAAAAAAAA1U/0TgBy6cFq-0/s320/23PrincessSleeves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404457560584105922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a girl in front of us coloring &lt;a href="http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&amp;amp;locale=0&amp;amp;sourceId=4ea1ad2dbbb94210VgnVCM100000176f620a____&amp;amp;vgnextoid=21bc9fbee98db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD"&gt;this month's coloring page&lt;/a&gt; from The Friend Magazine.  It just happens to depict Lismarie and her sweet family pushing an old lady in a wheelchair.  I so wanted to say, "Hey little girl!  I totally drew that!  And that's my BFF Lismarie and her family!"  But I knew what would happen.  She's look at me all weird and think, "Ok, strange lady.  I'm going to turn around now and grab my mom's arm."  So I refrained.  But I couldn't refrain from telling you, dear friends and family.  THERE WAS A GIRL IN FRONT OF US COLORING MY COLORING PAGE!  IT WAS SO COOL!  And I've only got one more picture left before my reign as Official Coloring Page Artist is over.  Sigh.  It was a good two years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9gy_w17I/AAAAAAAAA1M/Yn3fX8yhPfM/s1600-h/24ColoringPage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IBUiv1eHK94/SwB9gy_w17
