tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20110990303646778112024-03-12T16:52:54.159-07:00The Majors FamilyTyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-31325956239733686982012-08-23T21:44:00.001-07:002012-08-23T21:44:12.555-07:00Family Reunion 09<div>
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So... when I went to start blogging again... this is the draft that I found waiting for me. I was swearing on this post that I was going to become a die-hard blogger, again, and the darn thing never even got posted. But I am just going to put it out there anyway, because hey! It was a fun reunion... <em>three years ago.</em> And, uh, yes, by the way, I am totally going to start blogging again. Totally. So here...the post that was started 16 months ago... (I did have a baby and moved in the last 16 months- as if I have just been spending my evenings on the couch watching up to episode 136 of <em>How I Met Your Mother</em>!)<br />
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This is just emberassing. How many times have I returned to blogging, swearing I was back on the bandwagon, and to "stay tuned for more posts"?? Let's see, the last time was January. Of 2010. And that post was catching up from July. Of 2009. Which is why, in April of 2011, I am continuing on with the rest of July, still Of 2009. I know, not even interesting to anyone anymore. My kids don't even look the same. But this blog being for them in place of <em>scrapbooking,</em> I will be trudging right along covering the rest of 2009 &2011. Since I usually say at this point (and really, honestly think it) that I am sure I will be blogging every night and caught back up to the present day in a few, short weeks- well, instead I will say- I know I am an annoying blogger. Feel free to delete me from your blog roll. </div>
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So.... Majors Family Reunion 2009!!!!</div>
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Carson and Jake watching the mega-outside movie screen that the overachievers of one of the branches of Chad's family put on. You gotta love overachievers. They totally make life more fun.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EAZskwZS8cY/TbjdZL2w5pI/AAAAAAAAA04/EHIpF45T8CQ/s1600/P1010037.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600469561384167058" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EAZskwZS8cY/TbjdZL2w5pI/AAAAAAAAA04/EHIpF45T8CQ/s400/P1010037.JPG" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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Red Fish. Beautiful Red Fish. Love that place. Pretend that the water is not 36 degrees.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w_JneeQjaJA/TbjbpcAUfYI/AAAAAAAAA0w/E3N5XD_1GAU/s1600/P1010046.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600467641573866882" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w_JneeQjaJA/TbjbpcAUfYI/AAAAAAAAA0w/E3N5XD_1GAU/s400/P1010046.JPG" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--7xdCJamK_s/TbjbojuJzNI/AAAAAAAAA0o/6OmXDk2NB7k/s1600/P1010045.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600467626465283282" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--7xdCJamK_s/TbjbojuJzNI/AAAAAAAAA0o/6OmXDk2NB7k/s400/P1010045.JPG" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a>The fact that he has to grow up literally makes me ache. </div>
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First place winner of races at reunion. Is she not the cutest, brightest eyed thing you have ever seen??</div>
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This is Chad on a rope swing jumping into the before-mentioned 36 degree water. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fOk11KabJ1I/TbeOQwq_CKI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/zZVCLDaL2j8/s1600/P1010049.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600101080252745890" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fOk11KabJ1I/TbeOQwq_CKI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/zZVCLDaL2j8/s400/P1010049.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hJ01RZ-zkGE/TbeOQtieayI/AAAAAAAAA0I/qOd1ld5FTgs/s1600/P1010047.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600101079411747618" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hJ01RZ-zkGE/TbeOQtieayI/AAAAAAAAA0I/qOd1ld5FTgs/s400/P1010047.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> All of us at the Lake...</div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L6-VGbGuJOI/TbeNRMgdMCI/AAAAAAAAAzw/-hbWZvXo6Y0/s1600/P1010043.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600099988213149730" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L6-VGbGuJOI/TbeNRMgdMCI/AAAAAAAAAzw/-hbWZvXo6Y0/s400/P1010043.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<br /><span style="color: black;">Back at the movie screen... Clara is drinking from the water bottle...</span></div>
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Okay. The story. Chad carved this into a tree the first year we were married, at my first reunion. When it was just him and I in a tent. Here it is, twelve years later...</div>
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Reunion Games</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RDgbEPTiHFM/TbeLBOtsGFI/AAAAAAAAAyY/53X_d3KRxJs/s1600/P1010024.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600097514904361042" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RDgbEPTiHFM/TbeLBOtsGFI/AAAAAAAAAyY/53X_d3KRxJs/s400/P1010024.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-isTMG5yqhgM/TbeLApM2QTI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/A6RwFG3i078/s1600/P1010022.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600097504834502962" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-isTMG5yqhgM/TbeLApM2QTI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/A6RwFG3i078/s400/P1010022.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HUHV6iWijo/TbeKPojgCmI/AAAAAAAAAyA/EqZkpjOSQB4/s1600/P1010018.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600096662847490658" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HUHV6iWijo/TbeKPojgCmI/AAAAAAAAAyA/EqZkpjOSQB4/s400/P1010018.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XTOP4mazNVs/TbeKOSoW0zI/AAAAAAAAAxo/2kqYdVgdJls/s1600/P1010007.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600096639782409010" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XTOP4mazNVs/TbeKOSoW0zI/AAAAAAAAAxo/2kqYdVgdJls/s400/P1010007.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> And there it is, Reunion 2009~</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2Hh8JhkLfkE/TbeG4ZnS3bI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/a2lExEYpqN8/s1600/P1010033.JPG"><br /></a>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-73807680368514930682012-08-23T21:24:00.000-07:002012-08-23T21:24:56.017-07:00Hello kids! It is Memorial Day weekend- you have three days left of your 2012 school year. <br />
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Highlights... Savannah got braces. You look cuter than we even thought you would look, inspite of Jake's friends telling you that you are 10% less hot now. You also were Kate in Pirates of Penzance. And had your end of the year dance concert... you did this cool dance with glow sticks. You made the JV dance team for next year. You have been reading Nick Junie B. Jones every night, and laughing your head off with him. You are such a great big sister...<br />
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Jake, today we went out to breakfast-- you are getting to be an amazing kid. You turned 11 this week- we had a surprise birthday party for you, and we totally pulled it off! We had it at the bowling alley at Wahooz- it was soooo fun. Sooo fun to see you be surprised. You said your heart almost stopped beating. How are you so sweet? <br />
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So, holding to tradition, (besides the last two years, of course)- for your 11th birthday...the ten things that I love about you, Jakey...(and can I just say, that my camera was out of order from March until August? And these pictures were taken on my iphone and I am not happy about them. Okay. Just let that be said and remembered over this period of time. That's all.)<br />
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1. You announced to me this week that you were going to make a "man cave" in your room. That consists of sheets tucked into the top bunk mattress, completely surrounding your bed.</div>
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2. You volunteered three times this weekend to babysit for us, so we could go out on a date-</div>
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3. You are so, so sweet to your little sisters. They both love you so much. </div>
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4. You are just really, really,cool. You might say, you have swag. ;)</div>
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5. You are so aware of everyone around you's feelings.</div>
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6. Okay, seriously Jake- you are totally fashionable. Like really, really fashionable. (Don't let anyone ever tell you that that is not a bona fide talent, my son. It is only one of the finest. one of the finest. )</div>
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7. You get the award for most organized and cleanliest.</div>
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8. You are confident enough in yourself to freely admit that you like a girl. Like "Jake, do you have a crush on that girl?" "Yes." "Oh." Unexpected honesty curiously sparking <em>less</em> follow up conversation... I, apparently, have only natural instincts of conversation when dealing with denial. </div>
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9. You had a water fight with your little brother this weekend... in 50 degree weather.<br />
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10. You are seriously so funny. Like hilarious. Like you really make me laugh. <br />
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You might say, that I adore you. Thank you for being you. I can't believe you are 11.<br />
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Nick- I had the best date with you today, just sitting on the back porch talking. You are so, so sweet and tender hearted. When you went to bed, Dad and I talked about how special of a boy you are. Thank you for being you.<br />
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Clara- your cutest moment- me: "Clara, I am so sad that you are five. I want you to be my little girl forever." You: "Mom, even when I be five I will still be your little sweetheart." You are also a little boy crazy. You didn't like the way that I did your hair one day this week, and you told me you were going to call the cops on me for making you "ugly for the boys." <br />
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And then you crawled into bed with me on Saturday and whispered to me, "Mom, you know how dad wants me to marry none boys? And you want me to marry a boy? Well guess what don't tell dad this but remember that boys house we went to at the last party? I want to marry him and go to that house again but don't tell him, okay? Because I am in love with him." <br />
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I love you, my boy-crazy five-year-old.<br />
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And Austen, you will be crawling soon. Dad has been pretty determined lately to make that happen. Me, I am content with time standing still a little bit. You make me happy every day. We take a walk together every day, while all the kids are at school. You just look around, no matter how long the walk is. You clap your hands, and you love, love, love to play. You have two teeth, and wavy, fluffy hair, and I adore every thing about you. I can't believe I got so lucky to get you. <br />
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<br />Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-13005644648412363262012-05-13T22:06:00.003-07:002012-08-23T16:24:35.807-07:00Mother's DayOkay. So we are just going to start over. (my apologies for skipping the last 2 1/2 years...) However I did take plenty of pictures during that time frame and am hoping to write on the back of all those pictures. Or just explain them to you one day. Well, at least there were pictures anyway!<br />
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Today was a really wonderful Mother's Day, and I am not just saying that. It was perfect. I had a little date with each of you. First, Clara and I went on a little juice and chocolates picnic at the park. I told her she could wear whatever she wanted, and she wore her biggest, puffiest... Christmas dress. It was lovely seeing you dancing around with all the girls in their summer clothes and you in red satin and black velvet. You are one in a million. <br />
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Then Jake and I watched the movie, <em>John Carter</em>. We both would give it about two stars. But still so great to hang out together. You were in a saxophone band concert this week. You are really liking the saxophone. You were amazing. And so handsome in your tie and white shirt. <br />
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Nick and I rode bikes around the neighborhood. It was the perfect bike riding day. He kept talking about the advantages and dynamics of drafting a biker in front of you. Or a big rig if you happened to be in a car. You are amazing. And brilliant. <br />
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Savannah and I gave ourselves manicures and pedicures. On the back porch listening to Norah Jones. You had your first junior high slumber party last night. I called you in the middle with grave warnings about the "cinnamon challenge". Bless you for putting up with being the first child. <br />
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Austen, you are a doll. You went on your first bike ride on the back of dad's bike, and loved it. As long as you are within arms reach of dad or I, and sometimes Nick, you are pretty happy.<br />
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I love you all!Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-35230471569492830622010-01-01T22:51:00.000-08:002010-01-02T09:21:10.973-08:00Nicky's Birthday!<div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">...and continuing with my blog catch-up... </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">Nicholas' birthday - July 14th - </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="font-size:180%;">the big</span></span><span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="color:#33cc00;">5<span style="color:#000000;">! </span></span><br /></span><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="color:#000000;">Savannah and I did our best at recreating Yoda's lightsaber in cake form... friends came over for Jedi games (including a Jedi obstacle course which finished by slaying Darth Vader... aka Jake) & my children's absolutely favorite thing in the world... a <em>pinata.</em> Classic. Must be our Spanish blood.</span></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="color:#000000;">The first pictures are Nick in front of the fireplace. Somewhere along the line we started a tradition of filling the downstairs up with balloons and paper streamers and decorations the night before their birthday, so that when they come downstairs on their birthday morning their cake (usually a surprise) is sitting out, and the house is decked out for them. Anyway, there is always a Happy Birthday sign hanging up over the fireplace above all of their presents. It's kind of like Christmas morning. Except not. Because putting up a banner is obviously simpler than putting up a tree. And decorating it. And stringing 300 lights through it. But that's what my brother Todd once said to describe it, so we'll go with it. </span></span><br /><br /><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u-h7woFI/AAAAAAAAAw4/JiSCjNksh1E/s1600-h/P1010012.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422033759428976722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u-h7woFI/AAAAAAAAAw4/JiSCjNksh1E/s400/P1010012.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The bear that Nicky is holding is the love of his life, with possibly the exception of his cousin Jessie. It came from the dollar store...will disinegrate any day... but he loves his "Snuggy", and sleeps with him every night. Okay, I confess - I encourage it. I just happen to think that a 5-year-old with a teddy bear is the epitome of cuteness.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u-Hj1AxI/AAAAAAAAAww/n_5yMovPap8/s1600-h/P1010014.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422033752349278994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u-Hj1AxI/AAAAAAAAAww/n_5yMovPap8/s400/P1010014.JPG" border="0" /></a> So... Keeping with Blog Tradition....</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;">Dear Nicky,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;">The things I love about you</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;">On your <span style="color:#333399;">5th </span><span style="color:#ff9900;">Birthday</span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;color:#000000;">(or, mmm..., perhaps several months later. )</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><div align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u9-GsgPI/AAAAAAAAAwo/mEGGwcER2xo/s1600-h/P1010016.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422033749811167474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u9-GsgPI/AAAAAAAAAwo/mEGGwcER2xo/s400/P1010016.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />1. That you cried during the movie <em>Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs</em> because the main character threw himself in the garbage when he decided he was a crummy inventor. It broke your heart that he would feel so bad about himself and that everyone was being mean to him. You have the softest heart. Seriously. Also you came home one day from school crying because there was a little boy on the bus who no one wanted to sit by. You were full of relief when we resolved that <em>you</em>, in fact, could sit by him. Seriously, Nick, your heart is pure <span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;">gold</span>. </div><div align="left"><br />2. When we had company coming and we said, “Hey, guess who’s going to be at our house in one week?” and you immediately answered “Future Nick?!”<br /><br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u9efkH6I/AAAAAAAAAwg/iobDkoXJANE/s1600-h/P1010017.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422033741325541282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u9efkH6I/AAAAAAAAAwg/iobDkoXJANE/s400/P1010017.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />3. That you are rendered completely useless on the floor sucking your finger whenever you come in contact with silky material. If anyone ever wanted to beat you in a race, they should just throw a nightgown at you. </div><div align="left"><br />4. You pick up on big words, like when explaining how Jacob was bothering you, you finished by saying, “…and it’s just so <em>disturbing</em>!”</div><div align="left"><br />5. You are so affectionate. Soooooo affectionate.<br /><br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u86vz4wI/AAAAAAAAAwY/VL72AAFS-RI/s1600-h/P1010019.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422033731730006786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7u86vz4wI/AAAAAAAAAwY/VL72AAFS-RI/s400/P1010019.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />6. The way your eyes light up. Looking at you is like getting a pure dose of happiness.</div><div align="left"><br />7. How you have picked up the gentlemanly quality of saying “Ladies First” when you are doing something that requires taking turns. Also when we ask you to do something you answer with a salute and "sir, yes sir!" </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">P.S. This is only because you think you are a G.I. Joe and not because your mother in any way resembles a military sergaent. </span></div><div align="left"><br />8. Watching movies with you like <em>Home Alone</em> and you jumping up and down for the <em>entire </em>time and talking to the TV screen and hiding and I’m pretty sure really believing that you are in that world. We usually end up watching you a lot more than we watch the movie.<br /><br />(pictured here: pin the lightsaber on the Yoda)<br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t-oXqdEI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/The-yC6hm-4/s1600-h/P1010030.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422032661644997698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t-oXqdEI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/The-yC6hm-4/s400/P1010030.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />9. How you are a ladies man. I <em>think</em> I love that about you. Well, at 5 it is pretty darn cute. And you still sware that I am your “first favorite girlfriend”, usually out of the approximately 5 rotating other ones. I sometimes run neck in neck with your cousin Jessie, however. Who consequently adores you. And you also pretty much have your kissing habit in check now, which is good. You pretty much have stayed in line with your two rules for kindergarten: no kissing, no cussing. We couldn’t be more proud :).<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t-BXug8I/AAAAAAAAAwI/7R_zDp1hisQ/s1600-h/P1010029.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422032651176281026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t-BXug8I/AAAAAAAAAwI/7R_zDp1hisQ/s400/P1010029.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />10. How you like to practice your “moves”. These moves range from your Ninja moves (“don’t worry mom, if a robber ever came I would just use my moves on him”),to your Michael Jackson moves ("I'm the awesomest dancer, right mom?”) as you move your head back and forth and do the moonwalk. To your most powerful of all… Jedi Knight moves, which of course includes a lightsaber and the incredible talent of jumping from one couch to another. Nick, your moves are what give me peace of mind at night.<br /><br />11. How you always end every sentence with “right?” like, “I am the most powerful kid in the world, right?”<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t90EiGeI/AAAAAAAAAwA/cDSrz5tk8ig/s1600-h/P1010024.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422032647606114786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t90EiGeI/AAAAAAAAAwA/cDSrz5tk8ig/s400/P1010024.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />12. How you are not scared of anything…except certain episodes of Diego :).<br /><br />13. How you think your big brother is basically the coolest person to live since Indiana Jones.<br /><br />14. How you sometimes randomly call me “Tyla” and dad “Chad”.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t9XGmLsI/AAAAAAAAAv4/TIm6gTOKi1s/s1600-h/P1010028.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422032639830142658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t9XGmLsI/AAAAAAAAAv4/TIm6gTOKi1s/s400/P1010028.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">15.</span> </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">How you think everything about life is one</span> <span style="font-size:100%;">grand</span><em> </em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;">adventure.</span><em><br /></em></span><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t80wAuUI/AAAAAAAAAvw/oWKI5T2wEfo/s1600-h/P1010026.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422032630608607554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sz7t80wAuUI/AAAAAAAAAvw/oWKI5T2wEfo/s400/P1010026.JPG" border="0" /></a>We love you, love you, love you Nick. </div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-43532637200941053042009-12-30T22:18:00.000-08:002009-12-31T14:46:17.749-08:00Jakey's BaptismJacob's Baptism, that happened on July 11, 2009. I am just going to move on past the fact that I am 5 1/2 months late posting this & give myself a pat on the back that I am posting it now. Because my 2010New Year's Resolution is to catch up on my blog/history of our family. And it's December 30th, still 2009. So technically I am actually posting this early. (don't stop to think about it, just go with it) Also, I am going to write this blog like I am actually writing personally to Jacob. Since this blog is in place of (oh thank you! thank you!) a scrapbook.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">Jacob.</span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxGHTx2XiI/AAAAAAAAAvo/gzQ-asod-G8/s1600-h/P1010007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421285142829620770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxGHTx2XiI/AAAAAAAAAvo/gzQ-asod-G8/s400/P1010007.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">I am not quite sure what you are doing in the following picture. Unfortunately, that is what happens when your mother waits 5 1/2 months to blog about your baptism pictures. But an interesting fact...do you remember when we did the science club experiment to see how much air everyone could fit in your their lungs, that you could fit like 5 times as much as any of the other kids? I think this picture is further evidence of that fact :). It must be why you are such a rockin swimmer, too. </div><div align="center"><br /> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="left"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxFovfWDcI/AAAAAAAAAvg/6w5SWRXr8lE/s1600-h/P1010008.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421284617692253634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxFovfWDcI/AAAAAAAAAvg/6w5SWRXr8lE/s400/P1010008.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />You and your dad. He even shaved off his beloved beard for the occassion of your baptism. </div><div align="left"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxFKU307DI/AAAAAAAAAvY/REAj1nOC5a0/s1600-h/P1010002.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421284095151107122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxFKU307DI/AAAAAAAAAvY/REAj1nOC5a0/s400/P1010002.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Some things to remember about your day... </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">1st) You were really prepared to be baptized. Sister Jarvis is your primary teacher this year, and you really love her. She really helped you prepare to get baptized. Also, you are careful to study the scriptures often, and you know your stuff. We are seriously proud of you. And learn from you. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">2nd) We decided that instead of having people over to our house after your baptism, we would all go out to Chuck O Rama afterwards. This accomplished two things. First, it made it so we could have a special, quiet morning together instead of rushing around making preparations. There was a special peace that permeated our home that entire morning, and we got to have some special time together to talk about things. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Secondly, it introduced you to the world of buffets. You had no idea anything so wonderful existed on this planet. Spaghetti noodles with chocolate sauce. Mmmm.... </div><div align="left"><br /> </div><div align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxFJrOLuTI/AAAAAAAAAvI/nT6Lq9_tcM4/s1600-h/P1010003.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421284083970586930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxFJrOLuTI/AAAAAAAAAvI/nT6Lq9_tcM4/s400/P1010003.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Jake, you are a really special big brother, especially to Nick. He really looks up to you, well idolizes you, really. He thinks you are like cooler than a Jedi Knight (I'm pretty sure that's a direct quote :)). We are so glad he has someone to look up to everyday that is as classy and smart and soft-hearted and always wanting to do the right thing as you. He jumped in this picture when I was taking pictures of you and dad. He always wants to be right there with you...thanks for letting him be.</div><div align="left"><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxDvJeyanI/AAAAAAAAAvA/O8HwA6_4dOI/s1600-h/P1010005.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421282528725199474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxDvJeyanI/AAAAAAAAAvA/O8HwA6_4dOI/s400/P1010005.JPG" border="0" /></a> Look at that smile!! You are (may I quote the Christmas letter that you recieved from your friend Makenna....) J - Just cool A - Awesome K - Kind E - Exciting. Our thoughts exactly. We Love You!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxDtLWEZhI/AAAAAAAAAug/2U_HEYA4zKE/s1600-h/P1010010.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421282494865761810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SzxDtLWEZhI/AAAAAAAAAug/2U_HEYA4zKE/s400/P1010010.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-57492336349663085942009-08-16T16:09:00.000-07:002009-08-16T20:04:34.625-07:00Savannah, Fireworks, and ChloeI am blogging again. I am going to think of the bright side and say that I have not blogged for three months because the summer has been so fabulous that I just haven't wanted to take the time... that's a good thing, right?<br /><br />And also I am looking for brilliant suggestions on what is the best way to schedule in blogging - like is there a certain time you always blog, so it has just become habit? I am talking to you amazing bloggers who hardly miss a week - I really need some advice!<br /><br /><div align="center">So.... To my Beautiful Daughter Savannah, on your <span style="color:#cc33cc;">10th <span style="color:#000000;">birthday... (which actually occured June 27th - details... details!)</span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoifHrHD81I/AAAAAAAAAsI/2x-I85QJCo0/s1600-h/P1010047.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370717509819560786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoifHrHD81I/AAAAAAAAAsI/2x-I85QJCo0/s400/P1010047.JPG" border="0" /></a> What I love about you: </div><br /><div align="center">1. You are absolutely beautiful - inside and out.</div><br /><div align="center">2.You are kind - you are always aware of other people's feelings. Compassionate.</div><br /><div align="center">3. You are an amazing friend.</div><br /><div align="center">4. You are a free-spirit.</div><br /><div align="center">5.You are an "old soul" - you have wisdom beyond your age.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie2fPxcYI/AAAAAAAAAsA/iXk2TgUBnOg/s1600-h/P1010048.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370717214577095042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie2fPxcYI/AAAAAAAAAsA/iXk2TgUBnOg/s400/P1010048.JPG" border="0" /></a> 6. You pick up on things - you are well aware of what's going on all the time.</div><br /><div align="center">7. You know how to be yourself (which if I was one of Sleeping Beauty's fairies blessing you at your birth, is exactly the quality I would have given you.)</div><br /><div align="center">8. You are incredible with little children.</div><br /><div align="center">9. You are super-duper talented (singing, acting, cheerleading, cake decorating, sewing, dancing, music, taking care of children... seriously!)</div><br /><div align="center">10. You are thoughtful - the sweet things you do for all of us - the notes you leave on my bed...<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie194Js9I/AAAAAAAAAr4/UO_9yFAHp98/s1600-h/P1010050.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370717205619651538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie194Js9I/AAAAAAAAAr4/UO_9yFAHp98/s400/P1010050.JPG" border="0" /></a> Happy 10th Birthday, Savannah - I love you truly!<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">4th <span style="color:#000099;">of </span><span style="color:#ff0000;">July</span></span><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie1hAjlFI/AAAAAAAAArw/44idsOzD0dw/s1600-h/P1010059.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370717197870273618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie1hAjlFI/AAAAAAAAArw/44idsOzD0dw/s400/P1010059.JPG" border="0" /></a> Sitting on the front porch swing, right before fireworks and after floating down the Boise River on inner tubes. Nick informed us that he officialy <em>was</em> Mutt Jones (Indiana's son) after his tube flipped through some minor rapids and he handled it with true bravery. He also warned us of those approaching rapids by yelling "Bunnies! Watch out for the bunnies!" (it took Jake interpreting for him to figure out that he thought <em>rapids</em> were actually called <em>rabbits</em>)</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie1CPtgFI/AAAAAAAAAro/iN550fb0g80/s1600-h/P1010060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370717189612339282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie1CPtgFI/AAAAAAAAAro/iN550fb0g80/s400/P1010060.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie0qiqdNI/AAAAAAAAArg/FQjFJS87Gr0/s1600-h/P1010062.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370717183249380562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Soie0qiqdNI/AAAAAAAAArg/FQjFJS87Gr0/s400/P1010062.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This year we went downtown to Ann Morrison Park to watch Fireworks. It was <span style="color:#ff0000;">AMAZING!</span></div><div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoidhAT0yNI/AAAAAAAAArY/cyMylcOR7ag/s1600-h/P1010063.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370715745983711442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoidhAT0yNI/AAAAAAAAArY/cyMylcOR7ag/s400/P1010063.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoidgTbSvXI/AAAAAAAAArQ/nHfn6pyDt3E/s1600-h/P1010064.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370715733935439218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoidgTbSvXI/AAAAAAAAArQ/nHfn6pyDt3E/s400/P1010064.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This is Clara as soon as the fireworks began. She went facedown inside the blanket until they were over. Did not move a muscle. Incredible - I have not seen her that still for that long - well, ever. Fireworks apparently is the key. Who knew?<br /><br /></div><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibqRma-3I/AAAAAAAAArI/jGfABAp6e3U/s1600-h/P1010066.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370713706220682098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibqRma-3I/AAAAAAAAArI/jGfABAp6e3U/s400/P1010066.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The other kids mesmerized by the fireworks. Magic.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibqBBFsdI/AAAAAAAAArA/SLt8k0CNq9w/s1600-h/P1010065.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370713701769130450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibqBBFsdI/AAAAAAAAArA/SLt8k0CNq9w/s400/P1010065.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Just a random picture of Clara.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibMM6BrUI/AAAAAAAAAq4/Mjw9RiAkOsU/s1600-h/P1010067.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370713189564656962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibMM6BrUI/AAAAAAAAAq4/Mjw9RiAkOsU/s400/P1010067.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">And...Introducing Chloe!</span></em></strong><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibLnMVjLI/AAAAAAAAAqw/Zsj3TxMuChM/s1600-h/P1010038.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370713179440909490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibLnMVjLI/AAAAAAAAAqw/Zsj3TxMuChM/s400/P1010038.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This is our new bunny, which Jake (with some help from Savannah) used all of his birthday money for.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibLIkd7kI/AAAAAAAAAqo/weND_iwxZ_I/s1600-h/P1010037.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370713171220622914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibLIkd7kI/AAAAAAAAAqo/weND_iwxZ_I/s400/P1010037.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><div>You might be wondering why all of the pictures also feature Clara. That is because that is how Chloe lives her life. In Clara's arms. Clara has not really let her out of her sight or arms since we've had her.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibKhAo92I/AAAAAAAAAqg/y38gRE54JU4/s1600-h/P1010036.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370713160601368418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoibKhAo92I/AAAAAAAAAqg/y38gRE54JU4/s400/P1010036.JPG" border="0" /></a> Clara truly loves animals with all of her heart. She can't resist them - anywhere and any kind. Sometimes it's in a "Lenny-from-Of-Mice-and-Men" kind of way, but so far Chloe has survived, and actually seems attached to Clara. At least she doesn't run away from her. Hopefully it's not because she is frozen in fear.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoiqCmwMfeI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/EeR1VrBG7cA/s1600-h/P1010035.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370729517378469346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SoiqCmwMfeI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/EeR1VrBG7cA/s400/P1010035.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And that's our Summer Part 1. Hopefully I'll get the rest of July posted soon. Thanks for reading!<br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-91359070403153184512009-06-23T14:46:00.000-07:002009-06-29T06:30:22.095-07:00Jake and a lot of mini bike.<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">Ten Reasons I love Jacob, on his Eighth birthday…</span> </div><div align="center"><br />1. He is kind of a genius. I quote him from today, “Hey mom, come into the playroom so I can show you the motorized pulley I just invented.” </div><div align="center"></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFkoc6l_0I/AAAAAAAAApw/mPrtJX4YLmo/s1600-h/IMG_2893.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350668478412357442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFkoc6l_0I/AAAAAAAAApw/mPrtJX4YLmo/s400/IMG_2893.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />2.He asks me questions every day, okay several times a day, that I not only do not know the answer to, but have never really thought about. Emberassing? A little.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFkn9OOzYI/AAAAAAAAApo/gmQeSqczq7E/s1600-h/IMG_2889.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350668469904788866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFkn9OOzYI/AAAAAAAAApo/gmQeSqczq7E/s400/IMG_2889.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />3. His uncontrollable laugh when he thinks something is really funny. He has been known to be rendered completely useless laughing on the ground. If anyone ever wanted to beat him up they should start out by telling him a joke.<br /><br />4. His soft,soft heart.<br /><br />5. How gentle and kind he is with Clara and Nick and other little children. Always thinking about them.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFknu8wZOI/AAAAAAAAApg/s1727uBfCsI/s1600-h/IMG_2883.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350668466073396450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFknu8wZOI/AAAAAAAAApg/s1727uBfCsI/s400/IMG_2883.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />6. He is – I am not kidding, the leader of the neighborhood boy’s gang. The oldest boy in the gang? Twelve. But he listens to Jake. Is this normal?<br /><br />7. How he takes his guitar playing and singing very seriously and sounds very similiar to Alfalfa on Little Rascals.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFknTCjt5I/AAAAAAAAApY/EZVbUWiAZAg/s1600-h/IMG_2897.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350668458581538706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFknTCjt5I/AAAAAAAAApY/EZVbUWiAZAg/s400/IMG_2897.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />8. He likes to be handsome. He likes to do his own hair, wear his own picks of clothes. His favorite? T-shirts with funny sayings on them and tuxedos.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhFDWR5NI/AAAAAAAAApQ/09C3MA5Iu0M/s1600-h/IMG_2902.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350664571718853842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhFDWR5NI/AAAAAAAAApQ/09C3MA5Iu0M/s400/IMG_2902.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />9. He is a healthy eater. No stress over this boys nutrition. He loves veggie sandwiches with extra sprouts and thinks cake is just okay. I know it seems like a strange reason to love your son, but when you have another child who has approximately three items in their food repertoire, it is pretty endearing.<br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhE7Ppu6I/AAAAAAAAApI/ikfWEqMvrqE/s1600-h/IMG_2899.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350664569543572386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhE7Ppu6I/AAAAAAAAApI/ikfWEqMvrqE/s400/IMG_2899.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">10. His utter joy over finally becoming a Boy Scout and how he has nicknamed himself "Jake the Snake"<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhEUtNi4I/AAAAAAAAApA/ejvxj5F8N38/s1600-h/IMG_2913.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350664559198571394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhEUtNi4I/AAAAAAAAApA/ejvxj5F8N38/s400/IMG_2913.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I love you, my sweet boy. </div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="left">So the mini-bikes... Jake and Savannah got these for their birthdays (early gift for Savannah). This was somehow in spite of my upbringing in which I was taught that riding a motorcycle was equal to imminent death.<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhEGPOLJI/AAAAAAAAAo4/tc5fVBFUnfk/s1600-h/IMG_2920.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350664555314687122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhEGPOLJI/AAAAAAAAAo4/tc5fVBFUnfk/s400/IMG_2920.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Riding in McCall. If you are wondering if these are the same bikes featured in Dumb & Dumber, the answer is Yes. Which is why I have omitted the picture of me riding one. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhDpog5ZI/AAAAAAAAAow/mIIKHGAI0y8/s1600-h/IMG_2934.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350664547636143506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFhDpog5ZI/AAAAAAAAAow/mIIKHGAI0y8/s400/IMG_2934.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Nick and his two-wheeler.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeTrUfSqI/AAAAAAAAAoo/0m1-kaAByNc/s1600-h/IMG_2929.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350661524432046754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeTrUfSqI/AAAAAAAAAoo/0m1-kaAByNc/s400/IMG_2929.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Grandpa Dan pulling Clara and our neice, Jessie.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeTCDwF4I/AAAAAAAAAog/mGNA2SZEBgg/s1600-h/IMG_2930.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350661513355990914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeTCDwF4I/AAAAAAAAAog/mGNA2SZEBgg/s400/IMG_2930.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeSsafSvI/AAAAAAAAAoY/gEZ4Sg5iVTo/s1600-h/IMG_2927.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350661507545778930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeSsafSvI/AAAAAAAAAoY/gEZ4Sg5iVTo/s400/IMG_2927.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeSZZp_yI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/j_aAR-JZUak/s1600-h/IMG_2923.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350661502442012450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeSZZp_yI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/j_aAR-JZUak/s400/IMG_2923.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Saturday night in McCall we got a babysitter for the kids and went out to dinner and for a boat ride. This is Chad's parents, Dan and Joan, at dinner. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeR0ijtlI/AAAAAAAAAoI/Whf5xZ5_tQA/s1600-h/IMG_2935.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350661492547237458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFeR0ijtlI/AAAAAAAAAoI/Whf5xZ5_tQA/s400/IMG_2935.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Chad and I</div><div align="center"><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa1ROySZI/AAAAAAAAAoA/y_gm0_jgnGQ/s1600-h/IMG_2937.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350657703497845138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa1ROySZI/AAAAAAAAAoA/y_gm0_jgnGQ/s400/IMG_2937.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Todd and Lisa, who came with us to McCall on a farewell trip before moving far away to Arizona...<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa1OK3RgI/AAAAAAAAAn4/NKCaGYiSktI/s1600-h/IMG_2936.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350657702676088322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa1OK3RgI/AAAAAAAAAn4/NKCaGYiSktI/s400/IMG_2936.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Joe and Amy - our friends in McCall, the coordinator of our babysitter, and owners of this fine boat. Amy and I met last year at an Arbinger conference, in which we paid a couple hundred dollars to learn how to be nice to people. That one still baffles Chad. We usually just don't talk about it. Especially because I'm so nice now, I really try to avoid conflict.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa0qMNvHI/AAAAAAAAAnw/kYNuazwr9oU/s1600-h/IMG_2945.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350657693018078322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa0qMNvHI/AAAAAAAAAnw/kYNuazwr9oU/s400/IMG_2945.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa0bN7FRI/AAAAAAAAAno/nkdsnpM2xis/s1600-h/IMG_2953.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350657688998712594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa0bN7FRI/AAAAAAAAAno/nkdsnpM2xis/s400/IMG_2953.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div></div><div>So this is us, in the middle of the Lake, far away from the boat dock, moments before a torrential rain and lightening storm took us a little off guard.</div><div></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa0DzwjNI/AAAAAAAAAng/ou8o8RaPhYk/s1600-h/IMG_2950.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350657682714954962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFa0DzwjNI/AAAAAAAAAng/ou8o8RaPhYk/s400/IMG_2950.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Chad during the storm</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkgrG20Q5mI/AAAAAAAAAqI/lXPPma93rB8/s1600-h/IMG_2958.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352575553923769954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkgrG20Q5mI/AAAAAAAAAqI/lXPPma93rB8/s400/IMG_2958.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Joe, our fearless captain, being pelted with rain.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkgrGrYK3VI/AAAAAAAAAqA/hkZ8vzeumgA/s1600-h/IMG_2960.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352575550853143890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkgrGrYK3VI/AAAAAAAAAqA/hkZ8vzeumgA/s400/IMG_2960.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And where is Todd? Protecting us girls, of course. Naturally not taking up all of our space and blanket. He just wanted to make sure we were okay up there.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkgrGRbs0RI/AAAAAAAAAp4/OZTOWtB2yRE/s1600-h/IMG_2963.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352575543888630034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkgrGRbs0RI/AAAAAAAAAp4/OZTOWtB2yRE/s400/IMG_2963.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The next day... a campfire at Joe and Amy's<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYxO63q9I/AAAAAAAAAnY/p2P1YNVEFVU/s1600-h/IMG_2979.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350655435134708690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYxO63q9I/AAAAAAAAAnY/p2P1YNVEFVU/s400/IMG_2979.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Jake performing Ode to Joy at the campfire.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYwx3-i8I/AAAAAAAAAnQ/XU87GaLNPvI/s1600-h/IMG_2982.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350655427337948098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYwx3-i8I/AAAAAAAAAnQ/XU87GaLNPvI/s400/IMG_2982.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYwTlK_2I/AAAAAAAAAnI/ZgxsmSASW24/s1600-h/IMG_2985.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350655419206008674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYwTlK_2I/AAAAAAAAAnI/ZgxsmSASW24/s400/IMG_2985.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYwETocXI/AAAAAAAAAnA/OT2ek9OGO2w/s1600-h/IMG_2987.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350655415105909106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYwETocXI/AAAAAAAAAnA/OT2ek9OGO2w/s400/IMG_2987.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Savannah and Jessie on the mini-bike. Jenny, if you are reading this, they are not really moving. Like I would do something as irresponsible as letting your three-year-old ride with Savannah with no helmet. If she tells you anything different don't believe her. It's my word against yours, Jessie. :)</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYv0JQ7WI/AAAAAAAAAm4/uiuBtFpUy9c/s1600-h/IMG_2990.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350655410767457634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFYv0JQ7WI/AAAAAAAAAm4/uiuBtFpUy9c/s400/IMG_2990.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The kids taking a bow after their performance of the generationally famous skit, <em>I don't have the money for the payment of the rent. </em><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXzb94x3I/AAAAAAAAAmw/Oz2zcJDFU8E/s1600-h/IMG_2991.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350654373485135730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXzb94x3I/AAAAAAAAAmw/Oz2zcJDFU8E/s400/IMG_2991.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXzBUmH4I/AAAAAAAAAmo/C4uYMX8jT4U/s1600-h/IMG_2992.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350654366332624770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXzBUmH4I/AAAAAAAAAmo/C4uYMX8jT4U/s400/IMG_2992.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And a picture of a girl's night <em>Twilight</em> party. At which time we played the Twilight board game which apparently was made for eleven-year-old sleepovers and included such questions as "everyone secretly write down who they think is the prettiest person in the room". Evil game-writer. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXy1QivRI/AAAAAAAAAmg/8y2IqBtr0Fw/s1600-h/IMG_2994.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350654363094400274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXy1QivRI/AAAAAAAAAmg/8y2IqBtr0Fw/s400/IMG_2994.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And of course they are also not moving, because what kind of mother would let her two-year-old jump on a mini-bike without a helmet, at night, no less?<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXyuRnlxI/AAAAAAAAAmY/qkWvP8B34s0/s1600-h/IMG_3020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350654361219864338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXyuRnlxI/AAAAAAAAAmY/qkWvP8B34s0/s400/IMG_3020.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And why I haven't been blogging... I have been organizing, okay? </div><div>Look at this mother of a pantry. And now I can blog in peace. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXybQJ68I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/FpksH7FhwlQ/s1600-h/IMG_3025.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350654356113451970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFXybQJ68I/AAAAAAAAAmQ/FpksH7FhwlQ/s400/IMG_3025.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Random picture of Savannah riding her mini bike because I am still inept at placing pictures. I don't want to talk about it. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFWAbDVVmI/AAAAAAAAAmI/llbtQ4aidAA/s1600-h/IMG_2923.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350652397554587234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFWAbDVVmI/AAAAAAAAAmI/llbtQ4aidAA/s400/IMG_2923.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />We love, love, love, LOVE, summer. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFWALTgjuI/AAAAAAAAAmA/PrhWAxF21Gw/s1600-h/IMG_2998.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350652393327464162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SkFWALTgjuI/AAAAAAAAAmA/PrhWAxF21Gw/s400/IMG_2998.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Please don't give up on me my blogging friends, in spite of a broken camera, still unorganized kid's closets, and a recommitment to read New Moon before the movie comes out in November - I will persist until I become a consistent blogger! </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-34956883760601959642009-05-17T16:50:00.000-07:002009-05-17T21:59:42.169-07:00One Incredibly Long Post<span style="color:#000000;">So it's been a month since my last post - my computer broke down and I couldn't find my camera charger for about a week (unfortunately that week included Mothers Day). </span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"></span><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">But I am pleased to report that after being transferred to approximately 56 different customer service reps somewhere in the heart of India, I was given the good news that my warranty did in fact cover Nicholas sticking a pencil where the laptop charger gets plugged into, and I have my laptop once more.</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><br />Okay - one thing that I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">definitely</span> discovered. I really, really, really love blogging. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">separation</span> from my laptop was exactly what I needed to finally understand that my blogging experiment has gone from, "I'll try it." to "I can't live without it." (am I still talking about blogging, because I think I had this same experience when I was dating Chad.)<br /><br />And so I have moved blogging completely to the top of my priority list. Actually I have revamped my entire priority list. The Previous Number 1 Priority:"Stay so busy that you are running full speed ahead all day until you crash and don't get nearly enough sleep or have any fun but definitely get a million things accomplished." has now been replaced with things like: watch movies and listen to U2 and blog a lot. And also garage sale more often and go on walks (not runs) and hang out on the couch. Life is going rather well.<br /><br />So if you can't tell from my title - having not blogged in a month, this is an incredibly long post. But I can't help it. Okay, I won't help it. So first an update on all the kids...</span><br /></span><br /></div><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;"></span></em></strong><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff99ff;">Clara</span></em></strong></div><div align="center">Is seriously cute.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336994302031061026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShDQCoTYYCI/AAAAAAAAAlo/O9bKqfnC-v4/s400/IMG_2733.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShDPzesTyyI/AAAAAAAAAlg/WaxmMAqXXwg/s1600-h/IMG_2735.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336994041753226018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShDPzesTyyI/AAAAAAAAAlg/WaxmMAqXXwg/s400/IMG_2735.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC9fV4s5LI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/5sm9_3upFl8/s1600-h/IMG_2734.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336973904582599858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC9fV4s5LI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/5sm9_3upFl8/s400/IMG_2734.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I know there is a similar picture of Clara on every post I make - but if I didn't think of every time a situation like this comes up as a blogging moment, well, she might not still be with us. </div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">This was me putting mascara on upstairs and her downstairs by herself for 5 minutes. </div><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC9fMcuwCI/AAAAAAAAAlI/fLAQhd0hHlI/s1600-h/IMG_2812.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336973902049361954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC9fMcuwCI/AAAAAAAAAlI/fLAQhd0hHlI/s400/IMG_2812.JPG" border="0" /></a> Close-up.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jvM_zMI/AAAAAAAAAlA/ENPTjgVfhrI/s1600-h/IMG_2813.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336972880586460354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jvM_zMI/AAAAAAAAAlA/ENPTjgVfhrI/s400/IMG_2813.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#333399;">Nick</span><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">Riding his bicycle. All of the pictures are of Nick riding his bicycle, because that is pretty much what Nick does all day every day. I will post some more bike riding pictures next time, because on Saturday Nick....<strong>Learned to ride a bike without training wheels!</strong> I wish I could say that we taught him in a wonderful bonding moment, but really it was more like Chad unscrewed the training wheels, and he just sort of rode away. </span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jTey-JI/AAAAAAAAAk4/2s6ThGPWG-U/s1600-h/IMG_2803.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336972873144924306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jTey-JI/AAAAAAAAAk4/2s6ThGPWG-U/s400/IMG_2803.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jcb8TTI/AAAAAAAAAkw/1F0O_USyRds/s1600-h/IMG_2804.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336972875548871986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jcb8TTI/AAAAAAAAAkw/1F0O_USyRds/s400/IMG_2804.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Nick has also decided that he knows Spanish. He speaks Spanish to us all day, actually. Except his Spanish goes something like this, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ooga</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">boogala</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">aci</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">waci</span>", and then we reply, "what does that mean?" and then he replies something like, "oh, it means I like you but maybe I love you and if I love you maybe I will kiss you or something."<br /><br />We all find this very endearing and so, yes, we encourage him. It was not, however, so endearing to the waiter at the authentic Mexican <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">restaurant</span> we went to on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Cinco</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">de</span> Mayo, who after greeting us with "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Hola</span>", Nicky very seriously and confidently replied, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Oogay</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">moogay</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Wocka</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">ocka</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">noby</span> goo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">choochi</span>." Apparently the Spanish language is taken a little more seriously in his household.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jCyJqHI/AAAAAAAAAko/m-rCxPAy_FY/s1600-h/IMG_2809.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336972868662700146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8jCyJqHI/AAAAAAAAAko/m-rCxPAy_FY/s400/IMG_2809.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">And <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Jakey</span>.</span></div><span style="color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Jakey</span> has lived and breathed baseball for the last 6 weeks.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8i9tTN0I/AAAAAAAAAkg/IQ_3a1LRkJA/s1600-h/IMG_2732.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336972867300177730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC8i9tTN0I/AAAAAAAAAkg/IQ_3a1LRkJA/s400/IMG_2732.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />His birthday is in one week, and oh my, <strong>he is going to be 8</strong>.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7bDvU4FI/AAAAAAAAAkY/a1EazW1MhAE/s1600-h/IMG_2785.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336971631968706642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7bDvU4FI/AAAAAAAAAkY/a1EazW1MhAE/s400/IMG_2785.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>I will gush over him more in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">separate</span> birthday blog - but I am seriously, <strong><em>seriously </em></strong>crazy over this boy.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7ayCIMgI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/XE3P0Vgdgss/s1600-h/IMG_2786.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336971627215729154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7ayCIMgI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/XE3P0Vgdgss/s400/IMG_2786.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />He is like the coolest kid ever - smarter than me.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7a010M9I/AAAAAAAAAkI/RkGB3V4gLOg/s1600-h/IMG_2789.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336971627969393618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7a010M9I/AAAAAAAAAkI/RkGB3V4gLOg/s400/IMG_2789.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>The leader of the neighborhood boys gang (which actually includes 12-year-old boys).<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7aiiu4GI/AAAAAAAAAkA/SqpwN1UFq_s/s1600-h/IMG_2791.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336971623057514594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7aiiu4GI/AAAAAAAAAkA/SqpwN1UFq_s/s400/IMG_2791.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Hilarious and, did I mention? Smart.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7aoHvv4I/AAAAAAAAAj4/AyyUoZeG5Sc/s1600-h/IMG_2793.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336971624554938242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC7aoHvv4I/AAAAAAAAAj4/AyyUoZeG5Sc/s400/IMG_2793.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />We have been spending time every afternoon together talking about questions he has about the church and his baptism.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6HUJ_MeI/AAAAAAAAAjw/piEnf4-W51Y/s1600-h/IMG_2797.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336970193266487778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6HUJ_MeI/AAAAAAAAAjw/piEnf4-W51Y/s400/IMG_2797.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I have never felt so proud of him.</div><div></div><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6HBWDmXI/AAAAAAAAAjo/QG8EvWCD0NU/s1600-h/IMG_2798.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336970188216834418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6HBWDmXI/AAAAAAAAAjo/QG8EvWCD0NU/s400/IMG_2798.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;">And Savannah...</span></em></div><span style="color:#333333;"></span></div><div><br /><div><span style="color:#333333;">Still making cakes. She is hoping to start a business after she gets a few more cakes under her belt. This is Heather - a friend of ours and professional cake decorator who spent about 2 hours with Savannah teaching her to make...</span><br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6GwX-fvI/AAAAAAAAAjg/bh5EMt3uwxE/s1600-h/IMG_2828.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336970183661485810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6GwX-fvI/AAAAAAAAAjg/bh5EMt3uwxE/s400/IMG_2828.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This Mother's Day fondant cake. We were very grateful to have gotten this one lovely picture before Clara scooted her stool up to the counter while we were all upstairs, dug her hands in and devoured about 1/4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">th</span> of the cake. Love you Clara!</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6G7APOMI/AAAAAAAAAjY/1jq-Yo-ar5k/s1600-h/IMG_2831.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336970186514708674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6G7APOMI/AAAAAAAAAjY/1jq-Yo-ar5k/s400/IMG_2831.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And her tap recital...<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6GvuPnfI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/JxGATXZZ_sA/s1600-h/IMG_2854.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336970183486447090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC6GvuPnfI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/JxGATXZZ_sA/s400/IMG_2854.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3jb22U5I/AAAAAAAAAjI/47y8HS-9zJc/s1600-h/IMG_2856.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336967377835152274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3jb22U5I/AAAAAAAAAjI/47y8HS-9zJc/s400/IMG_2856.JPG" border="0" /></a> Okay, so this was actually her dress rehearsal. Her dance studio sent out a recital schedule with a typo as to what time the recital started, and so we missed the actual performance. I can't really talk about it more, because I am trying to keep my blood pressure in check.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3jLPs3eI/AAAAAAAAAjA/0rqO1iMXZTw/s1600-h/IMG_2857.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336967373375987170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3jLPs3eI/AAAAAAAAAjA/0rqO1iMXZTw/s400/IMG_2857.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>But fortunately I seemed to be more upset than Savannah, who handled the entire situation with absolute grace and maturity. Seriously. Where does she come from? She is absolutely incredible. I mean, I have heard of mother's looking up to their grown daughters, but Savannah is only 9, and I am giving myself lectures on being more like her. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3i2yyGrI/AAAAAAAAAi4/7Trl7Qu5q8o/s1600-h/IMG_2858.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336967367885986482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3i2yyGrI/AAAAAAAAAi4/7Trl7Qu5q8o/s400/IMG_2858.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3izE-ziI/AAAAAAAAAiw/zsSujCxqiII/s1600-h/IMG_2859.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336967366888574498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3izE-ziI/AAAAAAAAAiw/zsSujCxqiII/s400/IMG_2859.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>I know I am her mother, but the girl has talent.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3i78MykI/AAAAAAAAAio/b1vjkMXbZ80/s1600-h/IMG_2862.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336967369267661378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShC3i78MykI/AAAAAAAAAio/b1vjkMXbZ80/s400/IMG_2862.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxjYIbetI/AAAAAAAAAig/4pjxivLRQ3g/s1600-h/IMG_2864.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336960779765381842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxjYIbetI/AAAAAAAAAig/4pjxivLRQ3g/s400/IMG_2864.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxjAUqRdI/AAAAAAAAAiY/7A9-upAQtqA/s1600-h/IMG_2868.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336960773374232018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxjAUqRdI/AAAAAAAAAiY/7A9-upAQtqA/s400/IMG_2868.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And as for me... well besides having the best Mother's Day ever, one event that I actually took pictures at, was an insanely crazy party hosted by - Jennie and Leah, who secretly came up with the idea of having a mock beauty <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">pageant</span> at what the rest of us thought was a simple going away party for our dear friend, Lynnelle. We were met at the door with horrendous shades of eyeshadow and lipstick, hair bows, and gaudy jewelry (why did they only ask to borrow mine?)Here Jennie and Leah are as the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">MC's</span> of the evening.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxjBUas4I/AAAAAAAAAiQ/BK9XBpXOa9A/s1600-h/IMG_2754.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336960773641646978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxjBUas4I/AAAAAAAAAiQ/BK9XBpXOa9A/s400/IMG_2754.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>Here I am doing my talent portion of the contest as a singer in the video game "Rock Band". I was originally on the drums but was kicked off because I had no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">rhythm</span>. Seriously, like zilch. I even got a cramp. It was kind of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">embarrassing</span>.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxi8YNvwI/AAAAAAAAAiI/aD9jbFrXQQ4/s1600-h/IMG_2763.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336960772315397890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxi8YNvwI/AAAAAAAAAiI/aD9jbFrXQQ4/s400/IMG_2763.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Here is Lynnelle <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">receiving</span> the prize as Mrs. Universe. And I um, don't want to brag, but I did, um, win</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">Mrs. Congeniality</span></em></strong></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;">but you know, it really wasn't any big deal. I am probably not like seriously actually considering running for Mrs. Eagle next year or anything. </span></div><br /><div><br /></div></div><div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxiwl9lfI/AAAAAAAAAiA/VCNAQWBTYVo/s1600-h/IMG_2771.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336960769151833586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCxiwl9lfI/AAAAAAAAAiA/VCNAQWBTYVo/s400/IMG_2771.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>Okay, so Lynnelle. I just want to say - I love this girl. No, really I do. She has been a mentor in my life in so many ways. Did I mention that she is moving because her sister-in-law died and she is taking her family to live with her brother-in-law to help raise his children, and oh yeah, did I mention that she has eight children of her own? Oh yeah, and she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">homeschools</span>. Take a good look (but ignore the blue eyeshadow)- this woman is a saint. </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCvrN5A_hI/AAAAAAAAAh4/sh2kP_KudWY/s1600-h/IMG_2772.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336958715432074770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCvrN5A_hI/AAAAAAAAAh4/sh2kP_KudWY/s400/IMG_2772.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>So the Zoo! </div><br /><div>We visited the Boise Zoo this week, which was special only because they just got giraffes and lions! Which was such perfect timing because we were just starting to become disenchanted with the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">squirrel</span> and hamster exhibits.<br /></div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCvq1whT_I/AAAAAAAAAhw/x-d4d-skSuQ/s1600-h/IMG_2832.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336958708953993202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCvq1whT_I/AAAAAAAAAhw/x-d4d-skSuQ/s400/IMG_2832.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is the Jarvis Family with us - fellow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">homeschoolers</span>...</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtw_zCg5I/AAAAAAAAAho/ZzOeKPI7vxA/s1600-h/IMG_2833.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336956615704871826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtw_zCg5I/AAAAAAAAAho/ZzOeKPI7vxA/s400/IMG_2833.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>We really couldn't tear ourselves away from these amazing creatures. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtw4bDHdI/AAAAAAAAAhg/Sx9CDyHCRpA/s1600-h/IMG_2834.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336956613725199826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtw4bDHdI/AAAAAAAAAhg/Sx9CDyHCRpA/s400/IMG_2834.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />You see, Savannah - there is advantages of having been named for a flat, barren, grassland. Your name pops up on zoo signs!</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtwtidYPI/AAAAAAAAAhY/0aE78fOvnbg/s1600-h/IMG_2836.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336956610803491058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtwtidYPI/AAAAAAAAAhY/0aE78fOvnbg/s400/IMG_2836.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And the lions. Savannah did Jake's hair that day.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtwTutg5I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/rWa3q3SsTPk/s1600-h/IMG_2838.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336956603875558290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtwTutg5I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/rWa3q3SsTPk/s400/IMG_2838.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I might have to splurge for an annual pass to the zoo, just for how much joy this place brought Clara. Finally, a place that captured her full attention. She loved every moment of it. Her favorite was the monkeys. She was so overwhelmed with emotion at seeing a real monkey, that she did not know what to do but to stand and sing with all of her might and devotion, "5 little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed." It was a moment that only could only be rivaled by immigrants first setting their eyes on the Statue of Liberty. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtwLJHEkI/AAAAAAAAAhI/psA9asMufok/s1600-h/IMG_2841.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336956601570366018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCtwLJHEkI/AAAAAAAAAhI/psA9asMufok/s400/IMG_2841.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />If you have ever been to the Boise Zoo with a camera, chances are you have this same picture of your child in a photo album someplace.<br /></div><div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsaU7181I/AAAAAAAAAhA/s4W22vZp__U/s1600-h/IMG_2849.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336955126730322770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsaU7181I/AAAAAAAAAhA/s4W22vZp__U/s400/IMG_2849.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsaK4V2fI/AAAAAAAAAg4/afrZj4mwcL4/s1600-h/IMG_2847.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336955124031281650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsaK4V2fI/AAAAAAAAAg4/afrZj4mwcL4/s400/IMG_2847.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The penguins were seriously confusing for Clara. She kept saying, "Birdy!" Then, "Fishy!" over and over again. I know Clara, it baffles the best of us. They're just, you know. Penguins.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsZ4nsw4I/AAAAAAAAAgw/JfsBUHGdBtQ/s1600-h/IMG_2846.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336955119129641858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsZ4nsw4I/AAAAAAAAAgw/JfsBUHGdBtQ/s400/IMG_2846.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsZp79z4I/AAAAAAAAAgo/5uupJShncjE/s1600-h/IMG_2843.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336955115188113282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsZp79z4I/AAAAAAAAAgo/5uupJShncjE/s400/IMG_2843.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I have decided to start having my children suck on outdoor handrails at public places to boost their immune systems. I'll let you know how it goes.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsZgdc3II/AAAAAAAAAgg/QH7Rn_LioAs/s1600-h/IMG_2842.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336955112644205698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ShCsZgdc3II/AAAAAAAAAgg/QH7Rn_LioAs/s400/IMG_2842.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>So that's our month - thanks for reading till the end - I will post again as soon as I get caught up on reading everyone else's blogs!</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-84238464149133296682009-04-26T18:39:00.000-07:002009-04-26T21:50:59.857-07:00The Adventures of Tom Sawyer & EasterI just want to start out by seriously complaining about blogger. Seriously, it's like it has a mind of it's own. I carefully post all my pictures in a particular order, and using the blogger guidelines (like please post all pictures backwards, upside down and standing on one foot) and they still end up a mess and completely out of order. And yes, I have figured out a very complicated way of reworking them back into the correct order- but seriously, I am already defying the odds of homeschooling four kids and blogging too, like who has time to do that?<br /><br />And I am pretty sure blogger is run by ex-KGB and they are hearing everything I am ranting about and probably in the middle of this post I will not be able to keep my text from being blue and underlined (does that happen to anyone else?) but I am at my breaking point! Does blogger not know that the majority of it's users are not highly trained professional computer people but mom's who are usually blogging in the wee hours of the night with half opened eyelids? Would it really be so hard to make their system a little more user-friendly?! I know. It's free. I am obviously dealing with reprecussions of having been born in the Entitlement Generation.<br /><br /><div align="center"><em>So moving on...</em></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="left">Todd and Lisa came for Easter weekend. This picture was supposed to be about five down, but whatever, right? I can go with the flow. I'm a calm cat. Can't get to me KGB-people! Okay, I'm done. So Todd brought a basket full of items such as his own cooking knives, his Kitchen Aid, a scale to measure ingredients in ounces instead of with measuring cups, and fine spices. He cooked for us all weekend. This is a picture of him making incredible, I mean incredible pancakes. He actually drove all over town looking for whole buttermilk, because 1% apparently doesn't do the trick. And he lost all confidence in me when I suggested he simply add some vinegar to whole milk and let it set a few minutes. I have never seen such a look of disappointment in my older brother's face. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUosqYpxxI/AAAAAAAAAgY/FHD3W6MD3ZM/s1600-h/IMG_2662.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329210481819895570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUosqYpxxI/AAAAAAAAAgY/FHD3W6MD3ZM/s400/IMG_2662.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Todd and Lisa at my mom's Easter Egg Hunt.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUosXjcZSI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/0wCf5hcB-Yc/s1600-h/IMG_2686.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329210476764882210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUosXjcZSI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/0wCf5hcB-Yc/s400/IMG_2686.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center">An Easter Tradition... Hot Cross Buns on Good Friday. The vision of these little beauties is what got Savannah through her fourty days without sugar for Lent. Way to go, Savannah!<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUosG-4XQI/AAAAAAAAAgI/XNBSRujXJcM/s1600-h/IMG_2657.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329210472316558594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUosG-4XQI/AAAAAAAAAgI/XNBSRujXJcM/s400/IMG_2657.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center">Easter Morning...<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUoBJHYj7I/AAAAAAAAAgA/lkS1s6dmSew/s1600-h/IMG_2667.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329209734154719154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUoBJHYj7I/AAAAAAAAAgA/lkS1s6dmSew/s400/IMG_2667.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUoBHdotkI/AAAAAAAAAf4/HUwt6fM9Fo0/s1600-h/IMG_2666.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329209733711181378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUoBHdotkI/AAAAAAAAAf4/HUwt6fM9Fo0/s400/IMG_2666.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The Easter Egg Hunt at Grandma Rosie's...<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj5V7t0CI/AAAAAAAAAfw/jhzyDwpg1IA/s1600-h/IMG_2675.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329205202109976610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj5V7t0CI/AAAAAAAAAfw/jhzyDwpg1IA/s400/IMG_2675.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Yes, her hair started out all cute and frilly and bowish. I don't want to talk about it.<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj5VMBI-I/AAAAAAAAAfo/ELA7jN5le5Q/s1600-h/IMG_2672.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329205201909916642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj5VMBI-I/AAAAAAAAAfo/ELA7jN5le5Q/s400/IMG_2672.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj5LB1-eI/AAAAAAAAAfg/84FHlXcDEY0/s1600-h/IMG_2673.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329205199182887394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj5LB1-eI/AAAAAAAAAfg/84FHlXcDEY0/s400/IMG_2673.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This picture takes the cake.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj41b5o0I/AAAAAAAAAfY/s6TNu5U-Q6E/s1600-h/IMG_2670.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329205193386599234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj41b5o0I/AAAAAAAAAfY/s6TNu5U-Q6E/s400/IMG_2670.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Grandma Nita Easter Morning.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj4pswt6I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/euBmMOvUzUg/s1600-h/IMG_2669.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329205190236092322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUj4pswt6I/AAAAAAAAAfQ/euBmMOvUzUg/s400/IMG_2669.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The problem with Clara and an Easter Egg Hunt is that she does not understand why you would not stop to open up the egg and eat the candy inside before finding the next one. Thank goodness her siblings were in a sharing mood or this may have been her single claim to an egg.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi8ro-GsI/AAAAAAAAAfI/Bn1uXgjrBDY/s1600-h/IMG_2682.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329204159964912322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi8ro-GsI/AAAAAAAAAfI/Bn1uXgjrBDY/s400/IMG_2682.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi8RfcVgI/AAAAAAAAAfA/Ao2jVg78kuU/s1600-h/IMG_2683.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329204152945628674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi8RfcVgI/AAAAAAAAAfA/Ao2jVg78kuU/s400/IMG_2683.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi8N_VV7I/AAAAAAAAAe4/MNLQyY3KeJo/s1600-h/IMG_2679.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329204152005646258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi8N_VV7I/AAAAAAAAAe4/MNLQyY3KeJo/s400/IMG_2679.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi7-MMbQI/AAAAAAAAAew/E4LPa8ebvi0/s1600-h/IMG_2677.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329204147764620546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi7-MMbQI/AAAAAAAAAew/E4LPa8ebvi0/s400/IMG_2677.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi7nvsuXI/AAAAAAAAAeo/YQjxy2z1Pyo/s1600-h/IMG_2676.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329204141739522418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUi7nvsuXI/AAAAAAAAAeo/YQjxy2z1Pyo/s400/IMG_2676.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And ...</div><div><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">The Adventures of Tom Sawyer!!</span></em></strong></div><div align="left">After two months of daily practice - it was showtime for Tom Sawyer! I know I am the mother & wife of these fine actors, but seriously, this show was sooooooooooo cute!!! I wish I could have taken pictures of them on stage but it's against the rules, so these backstage pictures will have to do...<br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZyb8CsI/AAAAAAAAAeg/QErQZU8iMTE/s1600-h/IMG_2706.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329189266842716866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZyb8CsI/AAAAAAAAAeg/QErQZU8iMTE/s400/IMG_2706.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And these are science club pictures in the middle of my play pictures because of, well perhaps I have whined enough?<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZq7600I/AAAAAAAAAeY/9qLLrY6eYbo/s1600-h/IMG_2694.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329189264829371202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZq7600I/AAAAAAAAAeY/9qLLrY6eYbo/s400/IMG_2694.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="left">This week they were split into two teams and with a box of random supplies, and competed to see which team could create the fastest paper airplane, the best contraption to keep and egg dropped from 10 feet to keep from cracking, a bridge that would hold the most weight, and a way to carry a cup of water without spilling it holding only a metal hanger.<br /><br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZQ2-jwI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/z18OyzO5eDw/s1600-h/IMG_2692.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329189257829322498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZQ2-jwI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/z18OyzO5eDw/s400/IMG_2692.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Oh! And look, another Easter picture. Jake wanted to make sure he didn't miss <em>any </em>eggs during the hunt.<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZGnp6oI/AAAAAAAAAeI/qF5HyvRmPRA/s1600-h/IMG_2690.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329189255080700546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZGnp6oI/AAAAAAAAAeI/qF5HyvRmPRA/s400/IMG_2690.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Savannah and her beloved Grandma Rosie. They look quite a bit alike, wouldn't you say?</div><div align="center"><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZG6pUSI/AAAAAAAAAeA/IDvRa9rrvak/s1600-h/IMG_2689.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329189255160353058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUVZG6pUSI/AAAAAAAAAeA/IDvRa9rrvak/s400/IMG_2689.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Now back to the play. This picture might betray some true emotions for Jake and Nick after a week of midnight dress rehearsals.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTWz8CHWI/AAAAAAAAAd4/8c_TF3y37fY/s1600-h/IMG_2708.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187016682904930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTWz8CHWI/AAAAAAAAAd4/8c_TF3y37fY/s400/IMG_2708.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTW9OqIGI/AAAAAAAAAdw/IeH0mAPS-4E/s1600-h/IMG_2707.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187019176943714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTW9OqIGI/AAAAAAAAAdw/IeH0mAPS-4E/s400/IMG_2707.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And Science club again. This is their bridges which ended up being exactly the same. Great minds think alike!<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTWY7RhAI/AAAAAAAAAdg/Cl16pd-g_Ao/s1600-h/IMG_2702.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187009431962626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTWY7RhAI/AAAAAAAAAdg/Cl16pd-g_Ao/s400/IMG_2702.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This was my favorite. It's the paper airplane contest and Jake's team decided that if they attached a balloon to their plane and then popped it as the race started it would surely jet propel the plane to an unheard of distance. Unfortunately the plane made a dive after being in flight for about two nano-seconds.<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTWDGNoqI/AAAAAAAAAdY/0c7R8-udVBI/s1600-h/IMG_2697.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329187003572265634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUTWDGNoqI/AAAAAAAAAdY/0c7R8-udVBI/s400/IMG_2697.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is our adorable Savannah as Lucy Harper, with a whopping five lines (that she delivered with unsurpassed grace and emotion) </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURuy-bDkI/AAAAAAAAAdI/HPX7KKxlzKM/s1600-h/IMG_2714.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185229718097474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURuy-bDkI/AAAAAAAAAdI/HPX7KKxlzKM/s400/IMG_2714.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURussUGnI/AAAAAAAAAdA/JwjElSZyXBc/s1600-h/IMG_2713.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185228031531634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURussUGnI/AAAAAAAAAdA/JwjElSZyXBc/s400/IMG_2713.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Nick's cousins and friends came to see the play opening night, and he gave them a personal tour of the auditiorium. He was feeling quite popular.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURuqpKeWI/AAAAAAAAAc4/I3GHJjYAdXQ/s1600-h/IMG_2661.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185227481446754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURuqpKeWI/AAAAAAAAAc4/I3GHJjYAdXQ/s400/IMG_2661.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Okay, I know I am his mother, but Nick was a show-stopper. The boy is born to be on stage.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURuSe2CMI/AAAAAAAAAcw/1x33n8nUDLI/s1600-h/IMG_2659.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329185220995713218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfURuSe2CMI/AAAAAAAAAcw/1x33n8nUDLI/s400/IMG_2659.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQg0wdDUI/AAAAAAAAAco/aTkufoBJCbg/s1600-h/IMG_2709.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329183890166582594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQg0wdDUI/AAAAAAAAAco/aTkufoBJCbg/s400/IMG_2709.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>Savannah with friends Morgan Clinkscale and Jessie Walker who came to see the play...<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQg8leLRI/AAAAAAAAAcg/dCGSX3k1SUg/s1600-h/IMG_2716.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329183892268002578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQg8leLRI/AAAAAAAAAcg/dCGSX3k1SUg/s400/IMG_2716.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Nick practicing his sword fighting.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQgkKcPhI/AAAAAAAAAcY/5oJNYwzukuw/s1600-h/IMG_2710.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329183885712178706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQgkKcPhI/AAAAAAAAAcY/5oJNYwzukuw/s400/IMG_2710.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>Jake was incredible in this play. He was even able to withhold acknowledging my cousins, Jennifer and Stacey, who sat on the third row and waved at him through an entire performance.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQgUIXv5I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/1DFXEUeEjuM/s1600-h/IMG_2711.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329183881408528274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQgUIXv5I/AAAAAAAAAcQ/1DFXEUeEjuM/s400/IMG_2711.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This was Jake's best friend during the show, Holden. Coincidentally he was also Savannah's dance partner and his parents reported to us that he fell heartwrenchingly in love with his leading lady.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQgIcyXeI/AAAAAAAAAcI/WukXAe8hQsw/s1600-h/IMG_2712.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329183878272933346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUQgIcyXeI/AAAAAAAAAcI/WukXAe8hQsw/s400/IMG_2712.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Chad getting into character as the cruel schoolteacher.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPOJPYEcI/AAAAAAAAAcA/xaer7VHKHOs/s1600-h/IMG_2728.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329182469735846338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPOJPYEcI/AAAAAAAAAcA/xaer7VHKHOs/s400/IMG_2728.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPN-LXQvI/AAAAAAAAAb4/ZfaSuLVRFSg/s1600-h/IMG_2723.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329182466766226162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPN-LXQvI/AAAAAAAAAb4/ZfaSuLVRFSg/s400/IMG_2723.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPNj0PgVI/AAAAAAAAAbw/Dxle01FLvgo/s1600-h/IMG_2720.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329182459689926994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPNj0PgVI/AAAAAAAAAbw/Dxle01FLvgo/s400/IMG_2720.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPNVbv2PI/AAAAAAAAAbo/xVuYdnAjslw/s1600-h/IMG_2715.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329182455829092594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPNVbv2PI/AAAAAAAAAbo/xVuYdnAjslw/s400/IMG_2715.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Savannah on closing night (their where eight performances) with friend Nicole Purdy and neigbors Ari and Riley.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPNAgpodI/AAAAAAAAAbg/VxtPHxSuyhQ/s1600-h/IMG_2731.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329182450212512210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUPNAgpodI/AAAAAAAAAbg/VxtPHxSuyhQ/s400/IMG_2731.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Nick on closing night with his "Aunt Polly's sugar cookie" (psuedo flowers) throwing out an "I love you" sign to his adoring fans :)<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOCtvLl_I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/I1GhK4A5-6E/s1600-h/IMG_2725.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329181173862864882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOCtvLl_I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/I1GhK4A5-6E/s400/IMG_2725.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOCQOatpI/AAAAAAAAAbI/A1gyaNm675o/s1600-h/IMG_2726.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329181165940815506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOCQOatpI/AAAAAAAAAbI/A1gyaNm675o/s400/IMG_2726.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOCOlDBfI/AAAAAAAAAbA/J_Moz_j9FH4/s1600-h/IMG_2724.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329181165498861042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOCOlDBfI/AAAAAAAAAbA/J_Moz_j9FH4/s400/IMG_2724.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOByV1q-I/AAAAAAAAAa4/4SR6q9Ai4Wc/s1600-h/IMG_2730.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329181157918878690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SfUOByV1q-I/AAAAAAAAAa4/4SR6q9Ai4Wc/s400/IMG_2730.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And that's that... we have a whopping 6 month break until <em>Annie</em> starts in the fall... just the right amount of time to forget the incredibly long practices and weekends minus a husband and my near nervous breakdown that always happens round about opening night. But I must say, this is play #4 and it's always worth it in the end. Showbiz ala' Nampa! <div><span style="font-size:0;"></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-16356424970372714622009-04-07T17:34:00.000-07:002009-04-09T22:18:15.645-07:002 Birthdays, 1 Visitor, and a Conference<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">The first of which birthday was mine. This is a picture of Savannah making my beautiful, amazing lemon-poppyseed cake. This is the second birthday cake Savannah has decorated this month, which is seriously amazing considering that she has given up sugar for Lent.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I know, lousy job on focusing the camera, but you get the idea.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwKP4aXxeI/AAAAAAAAAao/0ABiThGJPo4/s1600-h/IMG_2532.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwKP4aXxeI/AAAAAAAAAao/0ABiThGJPo4/s400/IMG_2532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322140127602394594" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Finished Product.</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfW2ubJI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pFydcF8-yMA/s1600-h/IMG_2535.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfW2ubJI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pFydcF8-yMA/s400/IMG_2535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322137094937537682" border="0" /></a><br />On my birthday Chad took me out to breakfast, lunch, shopping, and to get a massage. This is a picture of us at lunch at my favorite Mexican Restraunt, right after I got a free birthday makeover at the mall. The eyeshadow is hot pink, which apparently is supposed to make your eyes look bright blue. I think it just makes your eyelids look hot pink.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfW2ubJI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pFydcF8-yMA/s1600-h/IMG_2535.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHf0sZzmI/AAAAAAAAAaI/isb2jnE2BWI/s1600-h/IMG_2545.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHf0sZzmI/AAAAAAAAAaI/isb2jnE2BWI/s400/IMG_2545.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322137102947307106" border="0" /></a>I just think that Chad is really, super cute.<br />(I didn't just say that because he asked me why I never post pictures of him on my blog. <span style="font-style: italic;">Of course</span> I did it just because I totally love him and want tons of pictures of him all over my blog, I've, uh, just kind of forgotten to put any on it.)<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfgbP_QI/AAAAAAAAAaA/ttrqHZ91BGQ/s1600-h/IMG_2544.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfgbP_QI/AAAAAAAAAaA/ttrqHZ91BGQ/s400/IMG_2544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322137097506651394" border="0" /></a><br />Here is me about to blow out the - oops! Forgot the candles! After this picture was taken, Savannah grabbed a candlestick from the front entry way and stuck it in the cake so I would have something to blow out. I like how the lighting in the picture kind of makes me look like I am at a seedy bar. Or maybe my house really just looks like a seedy bar.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfvAhznI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/ln1Toa6OycI/s1600-h/IMG_2554.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHfvAhznI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/ln1Toa6OycI/s400/IMG_2554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322137101421104754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">...And Nicole came to visit!</span><br /></div>I have known (and loved:)) Nicole known since I was 10 years old. I like to lay claim on the fact that on the day she moved into the Portland, Oregon neighborhood where we grew up, I was the first to have her over for a playdate. So I am her oldest friend ( like by a day, but whatever.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHgHdiUFI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/hdNQzFDE73g/s1600-h/IMG_2567.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwHgHdiUFI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/hdNQzFDE73g/s400/IMG_2567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322137107985223762" border="0" /></a>We were married two weeks apart, and since I moved to Idaho we usually do the trek between Idaho and Oregon to visit about three times a year. She was there for my birthday, which was really cool, because the lemon poppyseed cake recipe is hers. Okay, every good recipe that I lay claim to has come from her. She's also an amazing triathlete/marathoner and gets up every morning at 4am to run their business. Oh, and she's a dental hygenist, master gardener, and does wedding flowers, too. Did I mention she plays the cello, piano and flute <span style="font-style: italic;">beautifully</span>? Nicole is seriously cool.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9Fsj9gI/AAAAAAAAAZI/PlXXVpiZgWY/s1600-h/IMG_2570.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9Fsj9gI/AAAAAAAAAZI/PlXXVpiZgWY/s400/IMG_2570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322135406704326146" border="0" /></a>The highlight of our week was taking all 8 (!?) kids to the dollar movie to see <span style="font-style: italic;">Bedtime Stories</span>. Once again, I was the loudest laugher at the kids movie, but at least this time I had Nicole to rival me. We kept trying to talk to each other over the heads of the 8 kids about how funny it was. I'm pretty sure we were the theater favorite. Hey, you guys only paid a buck, okay?!<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">These are pictures of Nick, Jake and I planting our annual bean pole tee-pee. Last year the pumpkins took over, so this year the tee-pee gets a spot of it's own.<br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9w7YwtI/AAAAAAAAAZo/lbhX3JRjTog/s1600-h/IMG_2586.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9w7YwtI/AAAAAAAAAZo/lbhX3JRjTog/s400/IMG_2586.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322135418309231314" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF90bcZFI/AAAAAAAAAZg/zA4q8aR-b2A/s1600-h/IMG_2585.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF90bcZFI/AAAAAAAAAZg/zA4q8aR-b2A/s400/IMG_2585.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322135419248993362" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9gJTbvI/AAAAAAAAAZY/e-yCnXsfPh0/s1600-h/IMG_2584.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9gJTbvI/AAAAAAAAAZY/e-yCnXsfPh0/s400/IMG_2584.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322135413804199666" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9GDdkmI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/NK0T2Iz8qWw/s1600-h/IMG_2581.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwF9GDdkmI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/NK0T2Iz8qWw/s400/IMG_2581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322135406800376418" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />And Conference Weekend!<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">...so conference weekend, when we listen for two days to church leaders speak by satellite on TV, is one of my favorite things in the world. When we started having kids, we realized that they were not so into watching 8 hours of talks on TV all weekend, so we decided to make it more like a holiday, to get them into the spirit of things.<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:130%;">So this... our 10th bi-annual Conference Holiday...</span></span></span><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">started Friday night with our hot dog and S'mores roast.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9znzQbI/AAAAAAAAAY4/48fIIryie4o/s1600-h/IMG_2593.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9znzQbI/AAAAAAAAAY4/48fIIryie4o/s400/IMG_2593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322133220009132466" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9sgzXhI/AAAAAAAAAYw/LOAMgipZVZU/s1600-h/IMG_2592.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9sgzXhI/AAAAAAAAAYw/LOAMgipZVZU/s400/IMG_2592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322133218100731410" border="0" /></a><br />Does life get any better? Seriously - what is better than a S'more?<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9Tz1BYI/AAAAAAAAAYo/fOPSuAEqOxo/s1600-h/IMG_2597.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9Tz1BYI/AAAAAAAAAYo/fOPSuAEqOxo/s400/IMG_2597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322133211469645186" border="0" /></a><br />No, Chad is not wearing parachute pants - he just got back from <span style="font-style: italic;">skiing</span>...<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9fT5ZjI/AAAAAAAAAYg/ckeN5-LroPM/s1600-h/IMG_2595.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwD9fT5ZjI/AAAAAAAAAYg/ckeN5-LroPM/s400/IMG_2595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322133214556939826" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">that fine moment of putting a burnt marshmellow between chocolate and graham...<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBHy-yG6I/AAAAAAAAAYA/gSTwgEIBcVA/s1600-h/IMG_2600.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBHy-yG6I/AAAAAAAAAYA/gSTwgEIBcVA/s400/IMG_2600.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322130093100899234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBIMaRMdI/AAAAAAAAAYI/hDl8YZUOCU0/s1600-h/IMG_2602.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBIMaRMdI/AAAAAAAAAYI/hDl8YZUOCU0/s400/IMG_2602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322130099927069138" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBHwW4ojI/AAAAAAAAAX4/vyvhmghObLw/s1600-h/IMG_2604.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBHwW4ojI/AAAAAAAAAX4/vyvhmghObLw/s400/IMG_2604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322130092396683826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBHwW4ojI/AAAAAAAAAX4/vyvhmghObLw/s1600-h/IMG_2604.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Then...the tent...sometimes we sleep outside, but considering it snowed earlier that day (?!?) we decided to camp inside this year.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBIPJFCQI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/CRuk0hOXn3c/s1600-h/IMG_2603.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBIPJFCQI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/CRuk0hOXn3c/s400/IMG_2603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322130100660275458" border="0" /></a><br />Here the kids are after reading the King Benjamin story, ready to sleep in the tent for the night.<br /><br /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SdwBIWZV79I/AAAAAAAAAYY/7ARfS6Qa7SY/s400/IMG_2611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322130102607540178" border="0" />Saturday morning - playing the conference game, where they put a candy corn on a picture everytime they hear it said. Then they get to cash in their candy corns for prizes at the end of the session. Clara was more interested in just inhaling the candy corn.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_oNPI_qI/AAAAAAAAAXw/NUkCe1eEfbI/s1600-h/IMG_2620.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_oNPI_qI/AAAAAAAAAXw/NUkCe1eEfbI/s400/IMG_2620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322128450881388194" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_oDjCfEI/AAAAAAAAAXo/hNiBpIpR_Nk/s1600-h/IMG_2617.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_oDjCfEI/AAAAAAAAAXo/hNiBpIpR_Nk/s400/IMG_2617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322128448280493122" border="0" /></a><br />The Conference Store<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_ni_Hz2I/AAAAAAAAAXg/YxoxuRrax68/s1600-h/IMG_2616.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_ni_Hz2I/AAAAAAAAAXg/YxoxuRrax68/s400/IMG_2616.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322128439539912546" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Saturday Afternoon Session - the kids switched to conference packets, where they earned 10 points per page they completed to use at the conference store. Savannah was saving for straw glasses, Jake for Peeps, Nick for a slinky, Clara for whatever she could sneak while we weren't looking.<br /></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_nZKNIHI/AAAAAAAAAXY/Vm9dH6oS39Q/s1600-h/IMG_2614.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_nZKNIHI/AAAAAAAAAXY/Vm9dH6oS39Q/s400/IMG_2614.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322128436902043762" border="0" /></a><br />Saturday Night Campout in the Living Room<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_m7XqJsI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/1i9KGOX_S0g/s1600-h/IMG_2612.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv_m7XqJsI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/1i9KGOX_S0g/s400/IMG_2612.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322128428905408194" border="0" /></a><br />After Clara was told no to more candy corn fifty bazillian times by her serious game-playing siblings, she decided to take matters into her own hands. These marshmallows were on the top shelf of the pantry, hidden from view. How on Earth?...<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-FDvP2XI/AAAAAAAAAXI/02Rek-8N4GQ/s1600-h/IMG_2629.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-FDvP2XI/AAAAAAAAAXI/02Rek-8N4GQ/s400/IMG_2629.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322126747524651378" border="0" /></a><br />And this is a picture of her, only you can't see her, because she is hiding in the curtain with the one bag of sugar cereal in the entire house. Unfortunately the empty box that you see lying next to her gave her away. Oh, and the ferociously loud crunching.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-FIO8J7I/AAAAAAAAAXA/cR8ib0ZWkz4/s1600-h/IMG_2625.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-FIO8J7I/AAAAAAAAAXA/cR8ib0ZWkz4/s400/IMG_2625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322126748731320242" border="0" /></a><br />Sunday morning session - the kids all won fuzzy posters to color from the conference store, and spent this session coloring them.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-E-n9yuI/AAAAAAAAAW4/fr9N84Uf90E/s1600-h/IMG_2627.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-E-n9yuI/AAAAAAAAAW4/fr9N84Uf90E/s400/IMG_2627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322126746151930594" border="0" /></a><br />Why? Why not just color the poster?<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-EoECQ1I/AAAAAAAAAWw/nrlODWw4VNM/s1600-h/IMG_2631.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-EoECQ1I/AAAAAAAAAWw/nrlODWw4VNM/s400/IMG_2631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322126740095648594" border="0" /></a><br />Yes, she won the straw glasses - a true treasure. Well, the next best thing to Peeps, anyway, if you happen to have given up sugar for Lent.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-EZ0tQOI/AAAAAAAAAWo/YvgDcw_TJUo/s1600-h/IMG_2624.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv-EZ0tQOI/AAAAAAAAAWo/YvgDcw_TJUo/s400/IMG_2624.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322126736273260770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VFozhnI/AAAAAAAAAWA/kfWHQFD6nJE/s1600-h/IMG_2633.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VFozhnI/AAAAAAAAAWA/kfWHQFD6nJE/s400/IMG_2633.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322124823889151602" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />...And my Grandma's Birthday...</span></span><br /><div style="text-align: left;">This is my Grandma Spitzer on her 72nd birthday. Is she not just smashing? Seriously. Check out the turqoise ring. She is so cool. Oh, let me get her 70's genes!<br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VHZtDrI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Qboj2aCaO70/s1600-h/IMG_2644.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VHZtDrI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Qboj2aCaO70/s400/IMG_2644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322124824362684082" border="0" /></a>Lunch at Olive Garden - my Aunt Leanne, Grandma, me, Savannah, and Mom.<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VbmmJUI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/uYh0CoSOB2I/s1600-h/IMG_2646.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VbmmJUI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/uYh0CoSOB2I/s400/IMG_2646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322124829785466178" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VSZjKXI/AAAAAAAAAWY/gDiEz_KNMxs/s1600-h/IMG_2648.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8VSZjKXI/AAAAAAAAAWY/gDiEz_KNMxs/s400/IMG_2648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322124827314825586" border="0" /></a><br />After lunch we hit a few stores, and then let the serious shopping begin - Savers 99 cent Monday! Second hand shopping runs deep in our blood. (Don't worry Kristin, we'll re-enact the whole thing next time you're in town:)!)<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I love my Grandmother dearly. She has truly aced the art of being a Grandma, and I am so glad that I get to live close to her and that my children can know and adore her as much as I do. She is the essence of unconditional love and devotion. She has spent a lifetime making sure her family was always close, and I am so grateful to her for it.<br /><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8Vkk3nQI/AAAAAAAAAWg/RTGaTYnpBrg/s1600-h/IMG_2650.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sdv8Vkk3nQI/AAAAAAAAAWg/RTGaTYnpBrg/s400/IMG_2650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322124832194141442" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);">Happy Birthday, Grandma!<br /></span></span></span></span></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-5550435350451442802009-03-25T20:51:00.000-07:002009-03-25T21:21:03.523-07:00The Wedding of the Century<div align="center"></div><div align="center">The following are pictures that Lisa emailed me of their wedding... <div align="center"></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9B61V0vI/AAAAAAAAAVw/6W6T3HD8_so/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_506.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317340519478973170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9B61V0vI/AAAAAAAAAVw/6W6T3HD8_so/s400/emilybrownphotography_506.jpg" border="0" /></a> The Groomsmen<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9Bt_jzJI/AAAAAAAAAVo/HwpyX-3pDE4/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_525.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317340516032171154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9Bt_jzJI/AAAAAAAAAVo/HwpyX-3pDE4/s400/emilybrownphotography_525.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Todd and his security detail. Especially watch out for Brigg's lethal weaponry.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9BgI6QlI/AAAAAAAAAVg/0sswLd5k5Tc/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_598.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317340512313295442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9BgI6QlI/AAAAAAAAAVg/0sswLd5k5Tc/s400/emilybrownphotography_598.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />They served their missions together... and dreamed of this moment... don't worry, Todd - we're only 12 anniverseries and 4 kids ahead. (Should we blame the earring for the delay?)<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9BgadcpI/AAAAAAAAAVY/WSVeEeWl-q4/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_621.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317340512386904722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr9BgadcpI/AAAAAAAAAVY/WSVeEeWl-q4/s400/emilybrownphotography_621.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Where is Nick? Sound asleep in the Groom's Room...<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8ZmRBGuI/AAAAAAAAAVI/qi5iRekRXik/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_781.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317339826763143906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8ZmRBGuI/AAAAAAAAAVI/qi5iRekRXik/s400/emilybrownphotography_781.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Bridesmaids<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8ZMki3sI/AAAAAAAAAVA/3Avr8q74GrM/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_659.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317339819865726658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8ZMki3sI/AAAAAAAAAVA/3Avr8q74GrM/s400/emilybrownphotography_659.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />LOVE this picture.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8Yx1M43I/AAAAAAAAAU4/IFewyrn4lXw/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_771.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317339812687831922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8Yx1M43I/AAAAAAAAAU4/IFewyrn4lXw/s400/emilybrownphotography_771.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />My hair disclaimer: I <em>did</em> have the stomach flu.</div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8YoeWidI/AAAAAAAAAUw/qbsCMj2qkeg/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_539.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317339810176076242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8YoeWidI/AAAAAAAAAUw/qbsCMj2qkeg/s400/emilybrownphotography_539.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div>Edward (ahem, I mean, uh, Chad) and I.<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8YRY4SrI/AAAAAAAAAUo/T_OW7b6SGgo/s1600-h/emilybrownphotography_504.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317339803979106994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Scr8YRY4SrI/AAAAAAAAAUo/T_OW7b6SGgo/s400/emilybrownphotography_504.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />+- </div></div></div><br /></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-1902305671040928352009-03-21T23:01:00.000-07:002009-03-25T20:46:07.972-07:00Sweet Spring<div align="center">I think Nick is about the cutest thing in the universe (at least my universe). If you remember the old Calvin & Hobbes comics, that is the life that Nicholas leads. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to live inside Nicholas' mind and see the world the way he does - like a continual adventure, where our home is really the treehouse in Swiss Family Robinson, and he is a daring adventurer named Mutt.<br /><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXzxMbKQRI/AAAAAAAAAUg/juaoGOkAMj0/s1600-h/IMG_1092.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315922961655021842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXzxMbKQRI/AAAAAAAAAUg/juaoGOkAMj0/s320/IMG_1092.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Also, he is becoming a ladies man. Recently he has gently explained to me that he will still be marrying me when he grows up, but also he will be marrying Natalie.<br /><br />Upon seeing Natalie and her mom Jenny at a school carnival, I told Jenny to ask Nick who he was going to marry. She did and much to our SURPRISE he turned to Natalie with a serious look on his face, grabbed her in his arms, and planted (yes, a kiss) on her.<br /><br />Later at home I asked him exactly what made him grab Natalie and kiss her. His response: "Because I am a boy and boys marry girls. That's what I am supposed to do! I am just doing what Rick did!" (referring to my mom's new husband).<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXnrn0QDSI/AAAAAAAAAUI/uqDTlgrZDZc/s1600-h/IMG_2433.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315909671789268258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXnrn0QDSI/AAAAAAAAAUI/uqDTlgrZDZc/s320/IMG_2433.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="center">I was just thinking how cute Nick was, so I grabbed my camera to take a picture of him. He said, "just a minute, mom", then struck this pose - </div><div align="center"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXp7irsUI/AAAAAAAAAUA/mcS2VGLtZsA/s1600-h/IMG_2415.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315892050538508610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXp7irsUI/AAAAAAAAAUA/mcS2VGLtZsA/s320/IMG_2415.JPG" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315892047455131650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXpwDjGAI/AAAAAAAAAT4/VwrdDusiZTU/s320/IMG_2416.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="left">And when I served him this breakfast (a waffle, yogurt, and an apricot half), he said, "Thanks mom! This breakfast is even better than kissing girls!" </p><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXnr9KA9xI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/SJvG4lM55X0/s1600-h/IMG_2438.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315909677517698834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXnr9KA9xI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/SJvG4lM55X0/s320/IMG_2438.JPG" border="0" /></a> I 90% think he is absolutely adorable,10% am concerned.<br /><br />Oh, and also he has taken up yoga with me. He just rolled out his own mat this week and started doing downward dogs.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315891439730760242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXGYGxGjI/AAAAAAAAATo/hsjokwVjE04/s320/IMG_2507.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#000066;">...And</span></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#000066;">Why Blogging Makes Me a Better Mom</span>...</span></strong></p><p align="center">The Perfect Example.</p><p align="center">In my past, pre-blogging life, I may have thrown my arms up in despair when I noticed that Jake cut his own hair. Again. That makes it like, the fourth time. This year. </p><div align="center">But now I simply say "Don't move!" and run for the camera.<br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315891429919114242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFzjfRAI/AAAAAAAAATg/Lj4p-cZOz-U/s320/IMG_2437.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Ahhh...Blog Material</span></em></strong></p><strong><em><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong><p align="center"><br />This is a picture of Homeschool Science Club at our house. We made a human model to display the distances between the planets in relation to each other. The far distant boy is Pluto, which yes, I had to debate with the mini-geniuses as to whether or not is still considered a planet.<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFudn8-I/AAAAAAAAATY/zyX4ma-vYuc/s1600-h/IMG_2440.JPG"> </a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFudn8-I/AAAAAAAAATY/zyX4ma-vYuc/s1600-h/IMG_2440.JPG"><br /></p></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFudn8-I/AAAAAAAAATY/zyX4ma-vYuc/s1600-h/IMG_2440.JPG"><p align="center"></a></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315909681604175762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXnsMYTp5I/AAAAAAAAAUY/qNd80NBaleU/s320/IMG_2440.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><div align="center">Clara's true desire - to just be one of the boys...<br /><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFpmxqXI/AAAAAAAAATQ/YnnFvVakemo/s1600-h/IMG_2434.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315891427248548210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFpmxqXI/AAAAAAAAATQ/YnnFvVakemo/s320/IMG_2434.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFPdMpxI/AAAAAAAAATI/9eU85WaDq34/s1600-h/IMG_2429.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315891420229052178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXXFPdMpxI/AAAAAAAAATI/9eU85WaDq34/s320/IMG_2429.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Isn't she beautiful? She is also kind, talented, and smart. What a girl.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWKb6UFPI/AAAAAAAAAS4/RWs3rG3ljQk/s1600-h/IMG_2424.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315890409960117490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWKb6UFPI/AAAAAAAAAS4/RWs3rG3ljQk/s320/IMG_2424.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWJ5wtMnI/AAAAAAAAASw/H-Lu6SI8VYE/s1600-h/IMG_2427.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315890400793014898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWJ5wtMnI/AAAAAAAAASw/H-Lu6SI8VYE/s320/IMG_2427.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ccff;"></span></strong></p><div align="center"><br /></div><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"></span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;">...And Spring is Here!!!</span></strong><br /></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#000000;">This is Jake coming back from Kings (the variety store at the end of our street). The item that he purchased was, of course, water balloons! </span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWJaKq4lI/AAAAAAAAASo/ZkBpFk6wI8M/s1600-h/IMG_2512.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315890392311980626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWJaKq4lI/AAAAAAAAASo/ZkBpFk6wI8M/s320/IMG_2512.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Clara sat on my lap on the swings for about an hour. I wish I could take the scent of her soft hair in the sunshine, and keep it in a bottle forever.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWIi40YCI/AAAAAAAAASg/-p-kjrspoPs/s1600-h/IMG_2518.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315890377473155106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXWIi40YCI/AAAAAAAAASg/-p-kjrspoPs/s320/IMG_2518.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVKCCjYbI/AAAAAAAAASY/8eXKrBsK1Zo/s1600-h/IMG_2519.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315889303503724978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVKCCjYbI/AAAAAAAAASY/8eXKrBsK1Zo/s320/IMG_2519.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />After returning home with the water balloons, Jake engaged all of the boys in the neighborhood in a full-fledged water fight. Unfortunately I blew the cover of his hiding place by taking these pictures.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJ1WDIuI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Qllrl55d6o8/s1600-h/IMG_2523.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315889300095836898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJ1WDIuI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Qllrl55d6o8/s320/IMG_2523.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJzA9DHI/AAAAAAAAASI/Q8X96wEaQ6A/s1600-h/IMG_2526.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315889299470486642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJzA9DHI/AAAAAAAAASI/Q8X96wEaQ6A/s320/IMG_2526.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJamwYwI/AAAAAAAAASA/AR-GX_L9xbY/s1600-h/IMG_2530.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315889292918153986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJamwYwI/AAAAAAAAASA/AR-GX_L9xbY/s320/IMG_2530.JPG" border="0" /></a> </p><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJDES0XI/AAAAAAAAAR4/OogcPm9Grzk/s1600-h/IMG_2531.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315889286599594354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/ScXVJDES0XI/AAAAAAAAAR4/OogcPm9Grzk/s320/IMG_2531.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff00;">Mmmmm...Spring.</span></strong> </span></div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></div><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></p><div align="center"><br /></div></span>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-70660755533316666702009-03-16T22:48:00.000-07:002009-03-17T12:03:10.852-07:00Why I love Clara and an Ode to KristenYes, I am blogging twice in one week, and not only that, but twice in two days. That's to make up for the 2 week lag...<br />so I am sitting in my library (okay, den with bookshelves, but could I just indulge in a little Jane Austeness?), while all four of my influenza-ridden children are napping (or if they're not, I don't want to know), and I am listening to the rain hit the house, cuddled in a down throw, and blogging. This is the picture that I took of this moment...<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9BUPSPazI/AAAAAAAAARg/uH-AkOqVHmo/s1600-h/IMG_2498.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037901276703538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9BUPSPazI/AAAAAAAAARg/uH-AkOqVHmo/s320/IMG_2498.JPG" border="0" /></a> I am a pure Oregonian at heart. I love everything about the rain. </div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><strong>So</strong>... my last entry was about Clara’s birthday, but there were a few more things that I wanted to say:<br /><br /></div><p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9BT9b4gPI/AAAAAAAAARY/-pPeNnR1nYk/s1600-h/IMG_2493.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037896485306610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9BT9b4gPI/AAAAAAAAARY/-pPeNnR1nYk/s320/IMG_2493.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Dear Clara, on 3 days after you turned 2, What I want to always remember about you:<br /><br />1. How you throw both arms tight around my neck when you hug me and I can feel your soft hair on my cheek.<br /><br />2. Every time we walk down the stairs by the family pictures, you say each of our names as you pass each picture.<br /><br />3. Your belly laugh.<br /><br />4.Your spunk and spirit. Diving out of cribs (repeatedly), sitting on my head during sacrament, making a b-line for the park every time the front door opens, to name a few...<br /><br /></p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9BTbEAOII/AAAAAAAAARQ/svfeStz-8I8/s1600-h/IMG_2494.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037887258343554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9BTbEAOII/AAAAAAAAARQ/svfeStz-8I8/s320/IMG_2494.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />5. Your love of books – (especially when I announce it’s naptime, amazing how literary you suddenly become…) I think God knew I needed at least 1 bookworm child.<br /><br />6. Your grit and determination (what other newly turned 2-year-old will scoot a stool into the pantry then scale up to the top shelf just to get those, ahhh, salted tortilla chips…)<br /><br />7. At bedtime, after you are in your pajamas and ready to go down, you watch me carefully as I put away your clothes, straighten your crib… and bam! You are out the door, closing it behind you (to ensure that I don’t follow, of course), and at 90mph speed, you are in your brother’s bedroom, in their bed, and under their covers with suppressed squeals of laughter. I know, why can’t you just be one of the boys?<br /><br />8. Your pure adoration of hats. You take them off store shelves, from lost and founds, off perfect stranger’s heads. I know, it’s my fault, if I would just stop mentioning your lack of hair…<br /><br />9. How whenever you make a huge disastrous mess (which is just <em>so</em> rare) you always attempt to get a dishcloth and clean it up. You also scold your messes, like shaking your finger at the entire pitcher of orange juice you just spilled, “no! no!” That darn irresponsible orange juice.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9A0n_AKfI/AAAAAAAAARI/7RqUqhJ1K1k/s1600-h/IMG_2495.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037358151084530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9A0n_AKfI/AAAAAAAAARI/7RqUqhJ1K1k/s320/IMG_2495.JPG" border="0" /></a> 1. And how you suck your thumb and hold on to my hair when you are tired, and also melt my heart. My Clara, I adore you. Please don't grow up too fast.<br /><br />Love, your Mother<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"><strong>Other things I want to remember since the last post I made:</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">Chad went out of town last week, in spite of my holding on to his ankles and pleading with him to take me (of course I’m exaggerating, I only held on to his knees…). And only because Chad to me is like a drug. (Oh, aren't we are <em>so</em> Twilight?!:)) </div><br />And I didn’t want to blog while Chad was gone and mention that he wasn’t in town, in case any creepy, up-to-no-good weirdo reads my blog. Actually, now that we’re on the subject, if you’re a creepy, up-to-no-good weirdo, would you please not read my blog?<br /><br />Anyway, some of the highlights of life as a single mom:<br /><br />1.Putting all the children in a bathtub together (they did have swimsuits on) so that I could contain them for Family Home Evening (which, by the way, worked rather nicely until Jake chose “Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam” for the song…)<br /><br />2. Nicholas dumping an entire bag of cheerios and craisins on the church pew on Sunday to create a “volcano” (which “erupted” all over the floor), and also Clara basically sat on top of my head for all of sacrament meeting.<br /><br />3. At the grocery store when I bent over to get something on a bottom shelf and Clara crawled out of the cart and on to my back, and complete strangers had to come to my rescue. By the time I was at the check-out, the manager of Winco actually asked me if I was okay. <em>I’m not kidding</em>, she told me I was looking pale and asked me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed some juice or something. “No!” I responded in my finest hour, “ I just need a cage! For her!” pointing accusingly at Clara as she was again attempting to stand up in the cart seat.<br /><br /><div align="center">So the only upside to Chad’s absence? <span style="font-size:130%;">Quiet evenings spent with my new labeler</span>. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9Az2npAfI/AAAAAAAAARA/uoazFwXmEgQ/s1600-h/IMG_2500.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037344899760626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9Az2npAfI/AAAAAAAAARA/uoazFwXmEgQ/s320/IMG_2500.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9Az8GYAsI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/a73AlrK-0pA/s1600-h/IMG_2501.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037346370847426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9Az8GYAsI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/a73AlrK-0pA/s320/IMG_2501.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I am currently attempting to label the entire house. I just used 26 feet of labeling tape on the schoolroom alone. I know I have a problem, but I just don’t know how to quit. Notice in the first picture how there is even a label for the labeler. </p><p></p><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Also this week...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left">going on a trip to Tahiti, buying a used car, putting a small downpayment on a house, purchasing a dining room set from Pottery Barn, having my entire yard relandscaped, a pool put in – are just a few of the things that I could have spent my money on this week, but instead, it all went…</div><div align="center"><br />To the Dentist.</div><div align="left"><br />Thanks Dr. K! It was fun spending time with you! I didn’t even mind that time that you drilled into cavity #3 and it really needed a Root Canal and a crown and so we had to start all over again! (Thank heaven for nitrus oxide, huh?) Send me a postcard from Tahiti!</div><div align="left"><br />Chad and I collectively have 8 brothers – and not even one dentist out of the lot of them. But we do have a rocket scientist in the family, so I guess that’s pretty cool. If I ever need a rocket.<br /><br />Also, thank you to my mother and mother-in-law who babysat during four days of consecutive dentist appointments. :) Truly helpful.<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">So I mentioned that the kids have Influenza– </span></strong></div><div align="center">and you will soon find out why this section of my post is called… </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><em></em><div align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Ode to Kristen…</span> </span></strong></em></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="font-size:180%;"></span></em></strong><em><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"></div></span></strong></em><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9AzUdbkEI/AAAAAAAAAQw/4Jp28eKgvVc/s1600-h/IMG_2505.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037335730131010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9AzUdbkEI/AAAAAAAAAQw/4Jp28eKgvVc/s320/IMG_2505.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Because not only do my kids have the flu, but as soon as Chad got home from out of town, he resumed rehearsals every night and all day Saturday for “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”. On Saturday night I realized that I was still wearing the same clothes I had originally put on Thursday. Also, my clothes dryer broke. I explained to Chad that although the economy is plummeting at an unsurpassed rate, taking me out on a date would save him countless amounts of money in the long run as compared to having to commit me to the looney bin. And, avocado egg rolls from the Cheesecake Factory did truly help.<br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Mostly…</div><p><br />On Sunday I was thrilled to go to church all by myself, since the rest of the family was home sick. Just a little time to myself, I thought. That is, until the topic was announced - FOOD STORAGE. Now, <em>of course</em>, I have my food storage completely taken care of. I have an entire year of food and water…<em>for 2 adults and 2 children</em>.<br /><br />So I was once again reminded that if there was to be a major world catastrophe, I will have to be choosing which two children I like the best. Or the obvious, be the martyr, and starve myself, but then who would make sure they actually ate the food? And of course Chad can’t starve because we all know how I fare as a single mom, and I also know that I should have spent money on more food storage instead of going on a romantic retreat to Kuaui in August, (but, I mean, it was <em>Kuaui</em>) and so… you see the kind of anxiety this subject brings me?<br />And then I got to spend 2 hours in the church nursery. Relaxation at it’s finest. </p><p><br /><br />But, my <span style="font-size:130%;">dear, dear, dear, dear friend </span>Kristen mentioned banana bread at church on Sunday and apparently noticed my salivating. So at 8pm on Sunday she showed up with a loaf of banana bread, some adult female conversation, and left soon after with a load of my laundry to dry, and the material for my St. Patricks Day pillowcases which I had great intentions to sew up for the reading corner, but – well, do I need to remind you of my week or have I whined enough?<br /><br />She then returned this morning, with my dryed clothes in hand, and adorably sewed up St. Patricks Day pillowcases! She also told me to put another load in the wash because after she had ran to Target she was coming back for another load to dry(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) And also she showed up again with my dryed laundry tonight, and took another load, and also didn’t even mention how I smell.<br /><br /><br /></p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9Azd7_DMI/AAAAAAAAAQo/CETN7CjMxoM/s1600-h/IMG_2499.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314037338274204866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb9Azd7_DMI/AAAAAAAAAQo/CETN7CjMxoM/s320/IMG_2499.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />So, you see why I wanted to write an ode to her. True friends are a gift. Especially to mother’s in the barracks of child rearing. Sometimes I forget how to be a wonderful, thoughtful friend. And I am so thankful that I have those who are around me, who remind me what a difference it makes...<br /><div align="center"><br />“The great motherhood friendships are the ones in which two women can admit how difficult mothering is quietly to each other, over cups of tea at a table sticky with spilled apple juice and littered with markers without tops.” – Anna Quindlen </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thank you, Kristen!<br /></span></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-206946491585692382009-03-15T09:47:00.000-07:002009-03-15T11:05:52.428-07:00Clara's 2!<div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;">Savannah, decorating Clara's birthday cake... </span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09Ya78g1I/AAAAAAAAAPk/CvjROdJ4cnQ/s1600-h/IMG_2442.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313470625123959634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09Ya78g1I/AAAAAAAAAPk/CvjROdJ4cnQ/s320/IMG_2442.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"><em>Beautiful!</em> </div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09X00Wz6I/AAAAAAAAAPc/zwWJSp41ZFM/s1600-h/IMG_2443.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313470614891581346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09X00Wz6I/AAAAAAAAAPc/zwWJSp41ZFM/s320/IMG_2443.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09XoSwaOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/RZCg_hevOa0/s1600-h/IMG_2446.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313470611529427170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09XoSwaOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/RZCg_hevOa0/s320/IMG_2446.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em>Happy Birthday Clara!</em><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09XaaxxCI/AAAAAAAAAPM/345oy3_pzaQ/s1600-h/IMG_2447.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313470607804974114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09XaaxxCI/AAAAAAAAAPM/345oy3_pzaQ/s320/IMG_2447.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Clara's first look at the cake - she immediately went to get a fork - <em>hand over the cake and nobody gets hurt!</em><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09WrEmc9I/AAAAAAAAAPE/ZRsTtbMWFgM/s1600-h/IMG_2452.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313470595095491538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb09WrEmc9I/AAAAAAAAAPE/ZRsTtbMWFgM/s320/IMG_2452.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Opening her birthday outfit...<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08PspKK9I/AAAAAAAAAO8/GL3vreZMaX4/s1600-h/IMG_2455.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313469375746550738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08PspKK9I/AAAAAAAAAO8/GL3vreZMaX4/s320/IMG_2455.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />soft enough to pass the "thumb-sucking" test...<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08PDJArxI/AAAAAAAAAO0/psyHlLxpDvA/s1600-h/IMG_2457.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313469364605857554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08PDJArxI/AAAAAAAAAO0/psyHlLxpDvA/s320/IMG_2457.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div> </div><div>We <em>love</em> this girl!<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08OA2vsPI/AAAAAAAAAOs/SWI1yqzY6qY/s1600-h/IMG_2467.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313469346812506354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08OA2vsPI/AAAAAAAAAOs/SWI1yqzY6qY/s320/IMG_2467.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08N-CIMOI/AAAAAAAAAOk/DFebrDEsOQA/s1600-h/IMG_2471.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313469346054942946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08N-CIMOI/AAAAAAAAAOk/DFebrDEsOQA/s320/IMG_2471.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08NmkoBEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/spPcQdVNO-M/s1600-h/IMG_2472.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313469339757184066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb08NmkoBEI/AAAAAAAAAOc/spPcQdVNO-M/s320/IMG_2472.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07NyfCvVI/AAAAAAAAAOU/gVgeeOkkkhk/s1600-h/IMG_2483.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313468243443367250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07NyfCvVI/AAAAAAAAAOU/gVgeeOkkkhk/s320/IMG_2483.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07Nn1DPeI/AAAAAAAAAOM/osJBAhWkSBc/s1600-h/IMG_2484.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313468240582884834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07Nn1DPeI/AAAAAAAAAOM/osJBAhWkSBc/s320/IMG_2484.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>Opening her "2" statuette...<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07NYi9_NI/AAAAAAAAAOE/aympAD2jiUg/s1600-h/IMG_2488.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313468236480511186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07NYi9_NI/AAAAAAAAAOE/aympAD2jiUg/s320/IMG_2488.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07MpLg-UI/AAAAAAAAAN8/kMyq5J4beho/s1600-h/IMG_2460.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313468223765674306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/Sb07MpLg-UI/AAAAAAAAAN8/kMyq5J4beho/s320/IMG_2460.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><em>Happy 2nd Birthday, Clara!</em><br /><br /><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-58509478053096757882009-03-01T09:39:00.000-08:002009-03-02T14:18:54.173-08:00Bribery,Lent, and Einstein<div align="center"><br />Here is a picture of our annual "Cookies for Cans" service project - we make cookies and take them door to door in exchange for cans of food for the food bank. This year we were joined by some of our homeschool friends. I can't decide if the one in the middle with his pants pulled up to his chin or the one balancing canned food on his eye socket best epitomizes a homeschooler. Of course I <em>told</em> them to do their silliest faces - otherwise I am, um, sure they would all look, um, <em>quite</em> normal.<br /><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SatXdHlDAfI/AAAAAAAAAN0/sTzsFIzaveo/s1600-h/IMG_2324.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308432743548518898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SatXdHlDAfI/AAAAAAAAAN0/sTzsFIzaveo/s320/IMG_2324.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="left"></a>So on Tuesday I resorted to what every parenting book and class out there says not to do - bribery. The condition of the house was teetering on chaos - I was considering the possibility of just moving away and starting over again. Instead, at 9am I gathered all of the kids around me and told them that if the house was completely spotless, every corner clean and scrubbed, by 6pm, we would go as a family to see the movie <em>Bolt</em>. I would even let them each have their own pop and candy (only because on Tuesday nights the dollar movie has a deal for a movie, pop and candy for $3. I had to keep this bribe cheaper than actually <em>hiring</em> someone). And so, at 5:57pm (according to the slowest clock in the house) - the house was actualy habitable again and so off we were to the movies. Now I admit that I have not seen a movie above PG in a very long time, so my judgement might be a little off, but Bolt was <em>hilarious. </em>I was that adult in the movie theatre whose laughter rose above the children's, and other parents exchanged glances like, "I guess she doesn't get out often..." Well, I don't, okay?! Anyway, I would highly reccomend this movie.<br /><br /><br /><strong>Please imagine here an image of the movie <em>Bolt </em>that I </strong><strong>downloaded and then apparently erased and have no </strong><strong>idea how to repost to this spot. Would someone please get </strong><strong>Bill Gates involved in blog programming?</strong><br /></p><p align="left"><br />On Thursday we took the two older kids to <em>Seussical the Musical</em>. I'm just not a big fan of the Cat in the Hat. He seems a little strange. Okay - creepy. I know he is an American icon- but for me he's right up there with clowns and the Joker from Batman. Am I the only one who thinks that? Anyway, the kids and Chad <em>loved</em> it. Great acting. </p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SatXcwOjZwI/AAAAAAAAANk/mBQu0Rxity4/s1600-h/sl_spot.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308432737280157442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SatXcwOjZwI/AAAAAAAAANk/mBQu0Rxity4/s320/sl_spot.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It's play time again! Chad, Savannah, Jake, and Nick started play rehearsal this week. This time they are performing <em>The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.</em> It shows the first two weekends in April.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SatXc5jCGXI/AAAAAAAAANc/6LRetraaRIY/s1600-h/ts_logo.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308432739781974386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 137px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SatXc5jCGXI/AAAAAAAAANc/6LRetraaRIY/s320/ts_logo.gif" border="0" /></a><br />This is a picture of Savannah reading Roald Dahl's "The Enormous Crocodile" aloud to Nick. My children are Roald Dahl nuts. They also like the Cat in the Hat.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarfIWpPQ5I/AAAAAAAAANU/D_aT7vKYUqc/s1600-h/IMG_2369.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308300445420045202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarfIWpPQ5I/AAAAAAAAANU/D_aT7vKYUqc/s320/IMG_2369.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is how Clara typically spends our homeschool morning. Quietly lying by the bookcase, reading book after book - she has just started picking up Shakespeare.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarfIDjr_yI/AAAAAAAAANM/hPOXpLGCP6A/s1600-h/IMG_2367.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308300440296488738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarfIDjr_yI/AAAAAAAAANM/hPOXpLGCP6A/s320/IMG_2367.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Okay, fine. This is actually the kind of thing she is usually doing during our homeschool morning. I like how she put the pan lid over the mess to try to hide it from me. I'm surprised I even noticed the half-dozen cracked eggs on my wood floor.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarbYWV9NmI/AAAAAAAAANE/LCMvFGTQe4k/s1600-h/IMG_2375.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308296322170566242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarbYWV9NmI/AAAAAAAAANE/LCMvFGTQe4k/s320/IMG_2375.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And this right next to it...<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarbYDNcQ-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/dHU2g7VA3W4/s1600-h/IMG_2376.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308296317034578914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarbYDNcQ-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/dHU2g7VA3W4/s320/IMG_2376.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And as for picking up Shakespeare -well, she <em>did</em> say her first 3-word sentence this week, " No Bed Mama!!"<br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarbXiN_fbI/AAAAAAAAAM0/ju1VJGQQv2k/s1600-h/IMG_2370.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308296308178517426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarbXiN_fbI/AAAAAAAAAM0/ju1VJGQQv2k/s320/IMG_2370.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Wednesday:</div><div align="left">Savannah: Hey mom, what are you going to give up for Lent?</div><div align="left">Me: Nothing.</div><div align="left">Savannah: Why not?</div><div align="left">Me: Because I'm not Catholic.</div><div align="left">Savannah: (insert look of incredulousness, "and I suppose we won't be celebrating Passover either?!"),then: Well, I'm giving up chips.</div><div align="left">Me: Well that shouldn't be too hard since I haven't bought chips for the last two years. </div><div align="left">Savannah: Fine. I'll give up those spinach milkshakes you make. </div><div align="left">Me: Yeah, I could see how that would be a sacrifice for you. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">So to spare you the details of the rest of the conversation, Savannah eventually decided to give up <em>sugar.</em> I told her that if she gave up sugar for 40 days, I would pay her $40. This would be well worth it to me, since with the love affair this girl has with sugar, paying out only $40 would probably be a positive cash flow. And besides, the money would be well worth the lesson in self-discipline. Oh, and also, I didn't think that she would last 40 minutes. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">But now we are on day 5 and she has not touched sugar! This is incredible, especially considering the deep breathing that she had to do during the intermission of Seussical while her brother chowed down a chocolate-covered marshmellow. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">This is her making sugar-free peanut butter cookies. Much to her dismay, all cookies are not created equal. They were not quite what she expected, but it did not stop her from breaking her fast today with the entire pan. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaraBs1KdhI/AAAAAAAAAMs/J83Aotdpf08/s1600-h/IMG_2383.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308294833558418962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaraBs1KdhI/AAAAAAAAAMs/J83Aotdpf08/s320/IMG_2383.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">And here is Jacob. Savannah has coined the nickname "Einstein" for Jacob. He is technically in the second grade, but here he is on the computer doing 5th grade math. He just picked up Savannah's math computer program one day and is now several lessons ahead of her. Right before I took this picture I was watching him take a test. He had gotten every answer right, and was on the last problem. When he typed his answer into the computer that 754,310>754,301, I gave out a big sigh to hint to him to recheck his obviously wrong answer. "Mom" he patiently replied and clicked finish, which immediately showed that he was in fact right. Those are the kind of moments this boy savors. Go right ahead Jake, I'll uh, just get back to the laundry. <em><br /></em><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarYMVImJFI/AAAAAAAAAMc/snHyHePnpks/s1600-h/IMG_2371.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308292817152779346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarYMVImJFI/AAAAAAAAAMc/snHyHePnpks/s320/IMG_2371.JPG" border="0" /></em></a><em><br /><br /></em><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarYL-IY-RI/AAAAAAAAAMU/yyU9WPxJqdk/s1600-h/IMG_2378.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308292810977900818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarYL-IY-RI/AAAAAAAAAMU/yyU9WPxJqdk/s320/IMG_2378.JPG" border="0" /></em></a><em><br /><br /></em>This is a very common expression for Jake. Doesn't Einstein have a similar picture?</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarSLrknPqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/MeXaZk4SGeg/s1600-h/IMG_2377.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308286208926236322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarSLrknPqI/AAAAAAAAAMM/MeXaZk4SGeg/s320/IMG_2377.JPG" border="0" /></em></a><em><br /></em>We may call him Einstein, but Jake's true desire is to be a high-class spy. This morning he came downstairs with this outfit on. "Hey Jake, that's a nice outfit." "Thanks mom, I'm James Bond." I like his pose for this picture.<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarSK26HXfI/AAAAAAAAAME/kDM2-lKIctc/s1600-h/IMG_2381.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308286194789342706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SarSK26HXfI/AAAAAAAAAME/kDM2-lKIctc/s320/IMG_2381.JPG" border="0" /></em></a><em><br /></em>And that's our week!<br /><br /></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-86723828902813557992009-02-22T20:11:00.000-08:002009-03-01T19:37:49.771-08:00Valentine's and moreThis is a picture of Nick on his first day ever of skiing. It was sooooo fun! He did really well. He even talked me into taking him down a Black Diamond. If you have ever heard of the color-code book, you will know what I mean when I say that I need to work on cultivating the red side of my personality. On our way up the chair lift to the <em>bunny </em>hill, Nick told me that we need to take a left off the chair lift, because he was ready to go down the black diamond classified stretch off to the left. I told him that Black Diamond's are the very hardest hill to go down and that maybe we should wait. His reply was, "Mom, I am like Indiana Jones. I do adventures. Did you think that I was a baby? Now promise me that we will go down the black diamond. Say that we will, and then we have to, okay mom?" He was so confident, that I was actually convinced that maybe it was a good idea. Where was the big blinking light in my head that said, "Tyla! Take control of this situation! He's only four!"? I don't know. Apparently it doesn't exist. I was in such a hard snow plow (turning down a black diamond with a four-year-old between your legs who really has no idea how to turn with you doesn't work. I now know that extremely well.), that my knees were facing each other, and I think my hips came out of socket. But at least he has bragging rights now, and if you speak to him sometime in the next week, chances are you'll hear about how he darted down a Black Diamond with the greatest of ease.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaLNmMHrPMI/AAAAAAAAAL8/nOE8-5dU9PQ/s1600-h/IMG_2363.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306029366968007874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaLNmMHrPMI/AAAAAAAAAL8/nOE8-5dU9PQ/s320/IMG_2363.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is a picture of Clara after she dumped a bottle of Elmer's glue on her head. Today I spent hour giving her a long bath, rubbing lavender oil all over her, getting her dressed in an adorable new dress, tights, shoes, pigtails with matching ribbons - and all an entire two hours before church started. 20 minutes before it started I found her on top of the kitchen counter (she now scales barstools), with an entire cube of butter rubbed through her hair, and the pitcher of orange juice dumped on her head (apparently she was thirsty). I should have taken a picture, but at the time I wasn't really in a cherishing mood.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIrbq23QLI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YhY9ML8h2AU/s1600-h/IMG_2325.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305851065356730546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIrbq23QLI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YhY9ML8h2AU/s320/IMG_2325.JPG" border="0" /></a> And Valentine's Day! My Grandma came over Valentine's Day morning for heart shaped pancakes. She was the flipper.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpkdDh_wI/AAAAAAAAALs/O6eIM2IZQVA/s1600-h/IMG_2328.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305849017247334146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpkdDh_wI/AAAAAAAAALs/O6eIM2IZQVA/s320/IMG_2328.JPG" border="0" /></a>Personally, I think you can definitely tell these are hearts.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpkSfa6oI/AAAAAAAAALk/IbAQWzrkdU8/s1600-h/IMG_2330.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305849014411520642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpkSfa6oI/AAAAAAAAALk/IbAQWzrkdU8/s320/IMG_2330.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpBFwzQ0I/AAAAAAAAALc/24pZytYHIiI/s1600-h/IMG_2332.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305848409699337026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpBFwzQ0I/AAAAAAAAALc/24pZytYHIiI/s320/IMG_2332.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Clara doing her best in spite of the fact that her parents forgot to give her a fork and cut her pancake up.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpBO3fRFI/AAAAAAAAALU/Jshzj9eAkRA/s1600-h/IMG_2334.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305848412143305810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIpBO3fRFI/AAAAAAAAALU/Jshzj9eAkRA/s320/IMG_2334.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIonBCXndI/AAAAAAAAALM/iISEoTYs9Dg/s1600-h/IMG_2339.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305847961754246610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIonBCXndI/AAAAAAAAALM/iISEoTYs9Dg/s320/IMG_2339.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIom5Ggi9I/AAAAAAAAALE/az4Zbz_7LnY/s1600-h/IMG_2342.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305847959624125394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIom5Ggi9I/AAAAAAAAALE/az4Zbz_7LnY/s320/IMG_2342.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Clara getting her first Valentine. The thing I think that is really funny about this picture is that she is randomly wearing Jake's snowboots (see previous post on her shoe fetish).<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaImilijkEI/AAAAAAAAAK8/UwaYS66MvCs/s1600-h/IMG_2344.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305845686630322242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaImilijkEI/AAAAAAAAAK8/UwaYS66MvCs/s320/IMG_2344.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Roses in our wedding colors...<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkIlPXEJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/BkWafK-_EAI/s1600-h/IMG_2349.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305843040849957010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkIlPXEJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/BkWafK-_EAI/s320/IMG_2349.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After breakfast, the kids and Chad cleaned up and Grandma and I headed off to our very favorite store - the consignment store in downtown Eagle. The best thing about shopping with my Grandma is that she has impeccable taste and never, ever, ever gets impatient and wants to leave, even when I am trying on approximately 56 outfits. Also, she bought me the cutest bright yellow sandals in the world as an early birthday present. I love my Grandma!!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkIUg0OLI/AAAAAAAAAKs/qfTSz6KeiJM/s1600-h/IMG_2350.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305843036359768242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkIUg0OLI/AAAAAAAAAKs/qfTSz6KeiJM/s320/IMG_2350.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Okay, so here's the deal - I used to be really in to Valentine's Day being a family holiday. We'd have a big celebration all day - candlelight family dinner, the whole works - but then I decided, whatever. The kids can have New Year's Eve, their birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, St. Patricks Day (the leprauchans do leave golden coins under their pillows), Fourth of July, Easter, April Fools Day, May Day, all day every day, but Valentine's Day - it's MINE! And Chad's of course :), so we left the kids with a babysitter at noon with a heart shaped take-and-bake pizza and didn't see them again until February 15th. I love Valentine's Day!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkICsoguI/AAAAAAAAAKk/5FeUwGnEEsM/s1600-h/IMG_2353.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305843031577494242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkICsoguI/AAAAAAAAAKk/5FeUwGnEEsM/s320/IMG_2353.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />On Wednesday of this last week, we needed a break from homeschool. So we took off in the car to RAFIKI, an indoor play center. I loved it. It is basically a huge play area that is ridiculously overpriced, with plush couches all through it and latte's available to designer purse mom's who are complaining to their friends about the two-hour limit their gym has for day care. It was kind of fun to pretend like this was actually my life. And the kids loved it, and it was incredibly clean. Workers literally follow you around picking up after you, and ocassionally disinfecting if your child looked particularly disgusting. So naturally I was glad that the fungus on Nick's scalp had cleared up.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkILBTUeI/AAAAAAAAAKc/UMAfGkGiZfE/s1600-h/IMG_2354.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305843033811669474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkILBTUeI/AAAAAAAAAKc/UMAfGkGiZfE/s320/IMG_2354.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkH6cJKzI/AAAAAAAAAKU/4YjFsQykTHM/s1600-h/IMG_2356.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305843029360847666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIkH6cJKzI/AAAAAAAAAKU/4YjFsQykTHM/s320/IMG_2356.JPG" border="0" /></a> Nick was pretty sure that this was the same kind of adventure that Indiana Jone's went through. He was extremely relieved to get out alive.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIjFcolJVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/NUYtK4EsY7k/s1600-h/IMG_2358.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305841887488582994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIjFcolJVI/AAAAAAAAAKM/NUYtK4EsY7k/s320/IMG_2358.JPG" border="0" /></a> Clara stayed occupied the entire two hours by going down this slide over, and over, and over, and over again. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIjFEUho9I/AAAAAAAAAKE/_1PfW6A38eA/s1600-h/IMG_2360.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305841880962016210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIjFEUho9I/AAAAAAAAAKE/_1PfW6A38eA/s320/IMG_2360.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I took this this morning of my two little girls. I can't believe Savannah is already halfway to 18, and that Clara isn't even classified a baby anymore. I love, adore, these girls, and can't wait to see their lives unfold.<br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIijo8P8BI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/-J-Jz7dMo6Q/s1600-h/IMG_2364.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305841306676752402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIijo8P8BI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/-J-Jz7dMo6Q/s320/IMG_2364.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIiUdvpYeI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/VwFQ0GxEgOw/s1600-h/IMG_2365.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305841045973066210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SaIiUdvpYeI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/VwFQ0GxEgOw/s320/IMG_2365.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-77689976013307729582009-02-08T16:04:00.001-08:002009-02-08T19:00:22.712-08:00JanuaryJanuary was a wonderful month for us. Of course, if I would have been on top of my blogging game, I would have posted this throughout January instead of all of it in a big huge post in, well, February. So I know that it's ridiculously long, and a little out of order since it takes a rocket scientist (that's for my little brother, who in fact, is now a rocket scientist) to figure out how to post pictures backwards. But I am learning, and I actually really, truly am enjoying blogging. (My favorite part was when I kicked all of my kids out of my room so that I could blog about how much I adore them :))<br /><br />This first picture was not meant to be first, but it's how it turned out, so oh well. It's Chad and I at NEW YEAR'S EVE!! At the Gritton's house, Todd's new in-laws. The highlight of the night was Chase's belting it out to Rock Band over and over and over and over and over....<br /><br /><br /><p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-JwBDt7ZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Ow1HjTfGgl0/s1600-h/IMG_2093.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300606744449117586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-JwBDt7ZI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Ow1HjTfGgl0/s320/IMG_2093.JPG" border="0" /></a> </p><p>See? I get everything all out of order - well, this is Nick with his pretend gun which he hid in the waist of his tuxedo and pulled out at Todd's wedding to be Todd's "body guard". Yes, he came up with this all by himself. And yes, he is hopelessly devoted to his Uncle Todd.<br /></p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-Jvj_IVXI/AAAAAAAAAJM/7bKkiosv32E/s1600-h/IMG_2123.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300606736645248370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-Jvj_IVXI/AAAAAAAAAJM/7bKkiosv32E/s320/IMG_2123.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Okay, back to the New Year's Eve party. This is my darling, adorable, hilarious cousin Kristen and her SWEET husband and kids. We stayed with them New Year's Eve night. I LOVE THIS GIRL!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-JwYvtwQI/AAAAAAAAAJk/2ghoYTUvvm0/s1600-h/IMG_2084.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300606750807671042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-JwYvtwQI/AAAAAAAAAJk/2ghoYTUvvm0/s320/IMG_2084.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The family dinner at the Lion House the night before the wedding. We sat with my brother Chase (yes, the rocket scientist) who kept us utterly entertained the entire night with stories of how he defied death in 2 feet of water ("and then, I thought of little Sofia, and decided I could not die! ... So I stood up, and walked out of the water and to the shore...") and his beautiful angel wife, Christina, who I can thank for the design of this blog and who is due with their first baby, like today.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-Jv9B1UFI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7gL8Xc6T5uU/s1600-h/IMG_2119.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300606743367471186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-Jv9B1UFI/AAAAAAAAAJU/7gL8Xc6T5uU/s320/IMG_2119.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So, the wedding! Here is Nick (notice with weapon in hand) and Jake, with their cousins who they adore, Haden and Briggs...<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EPLryHsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/0Z544AeO_yI/s1600-h/IMG_2124.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300600682807697090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EPLryHsI/AAAAAAAAAJE/0Z544AeO_yI/s320/IMG_2124.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Savannah and I at the wedding. Is she not beautiful?<br /><br /><div align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EO3ztEhI/AAAAAAAAAI8/MJ_e1mqHOsw/s1600-h/IMG_2146.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300600677472211474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EO3ztEhI/AAAAAAAAAI8/MJ_e1mqHOsw/s320/IMG_2146.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This was most likely the last evening of my life that I will spend as a bridesmaid. Is next mother-of-the-bride? Uhhh....<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EOu4DcpI/AAAAAAAAAIs/zd3uviVtADY/s1600-h/IMG_2159.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300600675074536082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EOu4DcpI/AAAAAAAAAIs/zd3uviVtADY/s320/IMG_2159.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Groom, groomsmen, and dads<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EOll3nnI/AAAAAAAAAI0/LvIZ3NmsiME/s1600-h/IMG_2155.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300600672582344306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EOll3nnI/AAAAAAAAAI0/LvIZ3NmsiME/s320/IMG_2155.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EOVPT1zI/AAAAAAAAAIk/-sUVlk6Pzi4/s1600-h/IMG_2180.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300600668192757554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-EOVPT1zI/AAAAAAAAAIk/-sUVlk6Pzi4/s320/IMG_2180.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-CfLTP_-I/AAAAAAAAAIc/u0jpSUNGeyI/s1600-h/IMG_2189.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300598758559449058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-CfLTP_-I/AAAAAAAAAIc/u0jpSUNGeyI/s320/IMG_2189.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />My cousin-sisters. I adore them.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-CFiHT7WI/AAAAAAAAAIU/um5k_qiXlYU/s1600-h/IMG_2197.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300598318006791522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-CFiHT7WI/AAAAAAAAAIU/um5k_qiXlYU/s320/IMG_2197.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-BXMaF_3I/AAAAAAAAAIM/ZsmY2VG99HY/s1600-h/IMG_2207.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300597521906007922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-BXMaF_3I/AAAAAAAAAIM/ZsmY2VG99HY/s320/IMG_2207.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-BW02IUHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/rXQGquANwn4/s1600-h/IMG_2221.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300597515581149298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-BW02IUHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/rXQGquANwn4/s320/IMG_2221.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I am crazy over this girl.</div><div><br /></div><div align="left"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-BWx7WYRI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Li0aUKrZbwg/s1600-h/IMG_2225.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300597514797736210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-BWx7WYRI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Li0aUKrZbwg/s320/IMG_2225.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Did I mention that Todd married pretty much the most beautiful girl in the world? Also, I am suddenly feeling very short. Especially considering I had 3 inch heels on in this picure.<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-Ao4nu65I/AAAAAAAAAH0/12eDFGfgyz8/s1600-h/IMG_2226.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300596726320524178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY-Ao4nu65I/AAAAAAAAAH0/12eDFGfgyz8/s320/IMG_2226.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So fast forward two weeks, our weekend in McCall... our wonderful friends the Napiers invited us up for the weekend for "Winter Carnival".<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY967KAHGeI/AAAAAAAAAHs/U1kJGLgR05I/s1600-h/IMG_2270.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300590443154053602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY967KAHGeI/AAAAAAAAAHs/U1kJGLgR05I/s320/IMG_2270.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>The kids staring at the fireworks. I love it!<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY958Jx1S3I/AAAAAAAAAHc/qqHdp21fZvY/s1600-h/IMG_2278.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300589360762407794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY958Jx1S3I/AAAAAAAAAHc/qqHdp21fZvY/s320/IMG_2278.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Jake on the rather fast ice sculpture slide.<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY945pUAg0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/ItlTt9MU1iw/s1600-h/IMG_2286.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300588218176013122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY945pUAg0I/AAAAAAAAAHU/ItlTt9MU1iw/s320/IMG_2286.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Our favorite ice sculpture. Each tree has a face carved on it.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY945cA-eGI/AAAAAAAAAHM/KjQH0qCIRtY/s1600-h/IMG_2295.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300588214606526562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY945cA-eGI/AAAAAAAAAHM/KjQH0qCIRtY/s320/IMG_2295.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY93dM6G6nI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Kg9d8wMbaD8/s1600-h/IMG_2294.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586630003223154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY93dM6G6nI/AAAAAAAAAHE/Kg9d8wMbaD8/s320/IMG_2294.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="left">So, a big change this month, Savannah is homeschooling again! That's why this picture shows her in her pajamas making cookies. Because that's pretty much all we do all day. To heck with math and other pertinent life skills!</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY926lHAruI/AAAAAAAAAG8/fH6hsWb7r2o/s1600-h/IMG_2309.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300586035204370146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY926lHAruI/AAAAAAAAAG8/fH6hsWb7r2o/s320/IMG_2309.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Just in case you are a little concerned, I was kidding. This is Savannah and Chad on their way to a daddy-daughter dance. Clara scooted in right before the camera clicked. I'm pretty sure she was figuring she was missing out on something. It's not my fault, Clara. I BEGGED your dad to take you.<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY92ejKoiHI/AAAAAAAAAG0/qNkmti35fu0/s1600-h/IMG_2312.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300585553646356594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY92ejKoiHI/AAAAAAAAAG0/qNkmti35fu0/s320/IMG_2312.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY92KWllZBI/AAAAAAAAAGs/SIPlg-gzews/s1600-h/IMG_2311.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300585206672352274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY92KWllZBI/AAAAAAAAAGs/SIPlg-gzews/s320/IMG_2311.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>This is Nick in his new favorite outfit. He calls it his "Mutt" outfit, from Indiana Jones (which he has actually never seen), but apparently he picked up somewhere that Mutt wears a striped shirt, a jean jacket and jeans every day. I lay cute clothes out for him every night. Every morning he comes out in this outfit, whether it was in the laundry room, the bottom of the hamper, hidden in my closet... he finds it. </div><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91oJRjhgI/AAAAAAAAAGc/6JUEzPjLEag/s1600-h/IMG_2308.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300584618983130626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91oJRjhgI/AAAAAAAAAGc/6JUEzPjLEag/s320/IMG_2308.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My four children. I love them, I love homeschooling, I love the life we are having.<br /><div align="left"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91nzY6DHI/AAAAAAAAAGM/_61Yf5__SuU/s1600-h/IMG_2249.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300584613108386930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91nzY6DHI/AAAAAAAAAGM/_61Yf5__SuU/s320/IMG_2249.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Clara is obsessed with shoes. She can hardly think about anything else if she doesn't have them on. If I don't put them on her immediately, she finds some, somewhere. Notice her look of contenment in this picture. She is even good at staying color coordinated.<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91oH52uoI/AAAAAAAAAGk/_TdAZUPNINs/s1600-h/IMG_2307.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300584618615290498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91oH52uoI/AAAAAAAAAGk/_TdAZUPNINs/s320/IMG_2307.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And Jake. These are the days to never forget.<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91n-oGEPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7UHSdENa66s/s1600-h/IMG_2229.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300584616124879090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SY91n-oGEPI/AAAAAAAAAGU/7UHSdENa66s/s320/IMG_2229.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />So there you have it! January in a nutshell!<br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-3374919228461074732008-12-28T16:22:00.000-08:002008-12-28T19:44:47.150-08:00Christmas!!The night we got our Christmas tree - Savannah decided she wanted to be a Christmas tree, too. I am trying to talk her into wearing it for next year's Halloween costume (think of the money we'd save!:))<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg9kxiyePI/AAAAAAAAAF0/cpNC8FebkRw/s1600-h/IMG_1932.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285041864703113458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg9kxiyePI/AAAAAAAAAF0/cpNC8FebkRw/s320/IMG_1932.JPG" border="0" /></a> One of my favorite things about Christmas - Christmas nights when the kids have their pajamas on and all the lights are out except for the Christmas tree...hot chocolate...magical!<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg9Ra_f4SI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LNwvOzYZWsI/s1600-h/IMG_1934.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285041532231999778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg9Ra_f4SI/AAAAAAAAAFs/LNwvOzYZWsI/s320/IMG_1934.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div>My favorite Christmas tradition - Charles Dickens wrote it to read to his children, and it wasn't published until long after his death by his grandson. Lovely, old-fashioned, and keeps us centered on Christ during the season. We read it in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">snippetts</span> all through December.<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8-G6TkqI/AAAAAAAAAFk/MmQRI16MJhs/s1600-h/51XBZ2S43PL__SS500_.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285041200423998114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8-G6TkqI/AAAAAAAAAFk/MmQRI16MJhs/s320/51XBZ2S43PL__SS500_.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Up until December 14<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> at 5am (when Chad got home from taking the set down on closing night), the musical "A Christmas Carol" put on by Music Theatre of Idaho completely consumed our life. Chad, Jake, and Savannah performed in it, and Nick could recite the entire play by the end. It completely brought the Christmas spirit into our home (I can say that now that it's over!:)) </div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg85mndr_I/AAAAAAAAAFc/U2X-aO-4DIk/s1600-h/cc_spot.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285041123035557874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg85mndr_I/AAAAAAAAAFc/U2X-aO-4DIk/s320/cc_spot.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8vo-acPI/AAAAAAAAAFU/BCHGzCIMK4Q/s1600-h/IMG_1937.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285040951869993202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8vo-acPI/AAAAAAAAAFU/BCHGzCIMK4Q/s320/IMG_1937.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div>The Live Nativity in Eagle. First time we went, and we won't miss it again.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8d77_XaI/AAAAAAAAAFM/9pUT5T6za-c/s1600-h/IMG_1954.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285040647722458530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8d77_XaI/AAAAAAAAAFM/9pUT5T6za-c/s320/IMG_1954.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">homeschool</span> Christmas program. Nick and Jake are in the black and white checkered and red checkered Shepherd costumes. Nick's only line was, "Poor Mary", which he delivered with unsurpassed emotion.:)<br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8ImIS4tI/AAAAAAAAAFE/dXYj8umxswI/s1600-h/IMG_1951.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285040281091236562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg8ImIS4tI/AAAAAAAAAFE/dXYj8umxswI/s320/IMG_1951.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The kids favorite Christmas tradition - sleeping under the Christmas tree every 23rd of December to usher in Christmas (this year the 22<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">nd</span>, thank you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Poinsetta</span> Bowl). No, Clara didn't sleep their all night. She just got to make a cameo for the picture.<br /><div align="justify"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg710-4tDI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Yq5SktZ0c8o/s1600-h/IMG_1957.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285039958660789298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg710-4tDI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Yq5SktZ0c8o/s320/IMG_1957.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div align="center"><br /><em>Christmas Eve</em><br />at the Snooks</div><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg7SCWd_bI/AAAAAAAAAE0/HzfupltKFdY/s1600-h/IMG_1995.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285039343774072242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVg7SCWd_bI/AAAAAAAAAE0/HzfupltKFdY/s320/IMG_1995.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />After 9 years of waiting, Savannah finally realized her dream of being Mary in the annual Majors family live nativity.<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVgjCjkASFI/AAAAAAAAADk/bCys2veTInU/s1600-h/IMG_2034.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285012689532242002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVgjCjkASFI/AAAAAAAAADk/bCys2veTInU/s320/IMG_2034.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><em>Christmas Morning</em></div><div align="justify">...started at 3am when Savannah bounced into our room with two half-awake brothers in tow. We told her to come back at 6, which she did, not a minute later. I asked her what she had been doing for the last 3 hours, and she replied, "staring at the clock". This is them at the top of the stairs right before going down to see what Santa brought... </div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVgiVIjA89I/AAAAAAAAADc/8SeYNSgkkVA/s1600-h/IMG_2053.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285011909186221010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVgiVIjA89I/AAAAAAAAADc/8SeYNSgkkVA/s320/IMG_2053.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Savannah's favorite gift<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVghx3VkQ8I/AAAAAAAAADU/lYuGFhXLSp0/s1600-h/IMG_2060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285011303270990786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVghx3VkQ8I/AAAAAAAAADU/lYuGFhXLSp0/s320/IMG_2060.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Jake's favorite gift<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVghWcud0OI/AAAAAAAAADM/nslDK2aEBtw/s1600-h/IMG_2059.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285010832271200482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVghWcud0OI/AAAAAAAAADM/nslDK2aEBtw/s320/IMG_2059.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Clara's favorite gift<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVggzE91WQI/AAAAAAAAADE/Ydo8PZXFmnE/s1600-h/IMG_2061.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285010224597784834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVggzE91WQI/AAAAAAAAADE/Ydo8PZXFmnE/s320/IMG_2061.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />...And I'm not kidding, Nick's favorite gift.<br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVggNVpg4sI/AAAAAAAAAC8/bid1VTHJ4V8/s1600-h/IMG_2055.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285009576240931522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVggNVpg4sI/AAAAAAAAAC8/bid1VTHJ4V8/s320/IMG_2055.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />"Are you sure that's your <em>very</em> favorite gift, Nick?"<br />"Yeah, look mom, when you shake it it makes noise!"</div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVgfn5sgFTI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zDEyHSaIL9s/s1600-h/IMG_2057.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285008933082109234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVgfn5sgFTI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zDEyHSaIL9s/s320/IMG_2057.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Dad and Donna came in on the 27<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">th</span> - here he is opening the scrapbook calendar that Savannah and I passed several Christmas movies while making. I think I can handle one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">scrapbooking</span> project every decade.<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVge_M4WSEI/AAAAAAAAACs/YFKXQpZeBrE/s1600-h/IMG_2080.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285008233857435714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cpcG9AJLQYs/SVge_M4WSEI/AAAAAAAAACs/YFKXQpZeBrE/s320/IMG_2080.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><em>So that's all - our Christmas - 2008!! </em></div><em></em></div><div> </div><div><div align="center"><br /></div><div><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2011099030364677811.post-85043182653751338302008-12-01T21:14:00.001-08:002008-12-01T21:16:07.506-08:00Our New BlogHere we are! We finally have a family blog. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Christina, who did - well, everything. I will post pictures soon...Tyla Majorshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12659594663056171853noreply@blogger.com4