tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68470140389339374142024-03-13T15:37:08.434-07:00Four Angels From AboveVanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-72125007190088011202013-08-18T20:29:00.000-07:002013-08-18T20:29:08.865-07:00Wow, has it been that long?!<div style="text-align: center;">
So apparently it has been over a year since I wrote that very depressing post. I have been itching to start blogging again. And just have not put the time into getting back, as you can see we added a new little one to the bunch. Lucky baby number four, or Joseph Bradley joined our family this past February, and made it a little bit more crazy then it was already.I will slowly try to catch up, with our family's round about. </div>
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I will start by our most recent trip to NY. </div>
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My husband has been going to many work trips, and I had the option of tagging along for free hotels and seeing new places or staying at home alone with my kids for the summer. So as hard as that choice may have been... We chose to travel to as many places as we could. </div>
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The last trip was in Buffalo, NY. He flew out and the kids and I drove for 2 days straight and met him there, Where we took one day and went to the children museum, and the hotel pool while daddy worked. But we also were able to make a little vacation and go to Niagara Falls as a family. It was beautiful and the kids were impressed to say the least. </div>
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We also went on the Maid of the Mist boat, and got SOAKED.</div>
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This is my little Annabelle, </div>
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These are the American Falls.</div>
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And here are the big ones. </div>
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Nothing can describe the power of these falls, its impossible to watch and not be convinced that God has </div>
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planed and carried out this beautiful world to every last detail.</div>
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Ready to go explore the Hurricane Deck.</div>
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We were given these Beautiful sandals in order to safely climb to the top. </div>
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Very fashionable don't you think?</div>
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After seeing everything we could possibly see in the US side, we headed to Canada. </div>
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And the view from the is... Breathtaking </div>
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This was our day at this beautiful place, stay tuned for the next day... as we head to Palmyra.</div>
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Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-22562855304192374212012-03-09T14:25:00.000-08:002012-03-09T14:25:12.165-08:00What is it about mothers???From the moment of conception til who knows when... a woman gives up all rights to her body, mind and soul. To a child who will steel her heart faster then the speed of sound, because even before they make a sound we would already die for them. We put our bodies through the greatest change since we were being created, and then for the rest of our lives those little people walking outside of us; Decide when we are happy, sad, excited, angry, exhausted, stressed, worried, proud and so on.<br />
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From the moment we become mothers, we are overtaken a the greatest love and feeling of accomplishment. While at the same time overwhelmed with the responsibility, and work that it takes to raise well rounded, productive, responsible, children to adulthood. It is at that moment that all the silent little acts will take place, and will continue to for ever. <br />
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Only a mother knows...<br />
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<ul><li>That last week she ate burnt toast, cause she didn't want he children or husband to have to eat it.</li>
<li>That she woke up with the baby 6 times just so her husband could be rested the next day.</li>
<li>She didn't have milk with her cookies because her children wanted a second glass. </li>
<li>She sewed her pants for the 2nd time, because her children needed summer cloths.</li>
<li>That she missed that girls night out because her husband had something else he wanted to do.</li>
<li>She cried herself to sleep, after her children complained about something that she tried her best to accomplish.</li>
<li>That she put her hair up on pony, so that her girls could look beautiful. </li>
<li>That sometimes she really didn't want just water with dinner, but there was only enough for the others at the table</li>
</ul>The list can go on forever, these silent little acts are part of our everyday lives. We do it without thinking about it, they come natural for a mother.<br />
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We have 1, 2, 3 or however many little blessings we are blessed with, following us around. They are fully ours. How many of your husbands ask you if you will take care of the kids for him while he goes to work? However if you have something as important as his work, maybe a doctors appointment, or whatever. You have to find childcare. You can't just assume that because he is aware of it, and its his children just as much as yours he knows he will be watching them...<br />
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A woman, especially one without a degree like me. Recognizes that she cannot live without the work of her husband, that because of him she is able to cook meals for her children. She has a bed to sleep in and a roof over her head. All because of him, I know I can never and will never replace him. And yet I could be so easily replaced. Anyone can raise my kids, probably do a better job then me.<br />
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Our church teaches of the divinity of the women, how we are co-creators with the father. How we are the ones who can raise His children here on Earth. How we are to be the "protectors" of the home, we are the ones who are to keep the spirit of God within the walls of our home. However we need to do that by...<br />
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Cooking a balanced meal, keeping a home tidy and clean, cause the spirit of God cannot be where there is clutter. Managing a budget, food storage, visiting teaching, reaching out to others, family home evening, daily scripture study, family and personal prayer, helping kids with their school work, teaching them about the Gospel, supporting our husbands, magnify our callings, and this list too can go on and on.<br />
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How can I feel good about anything if the only thing that I am supposed to do, is a thing that no diploma is needed. And I can't do it. Or even worse, some days I have no desire of doing it.<br />
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Some days I do question the purpose of my existence, they say that the more you give of your self the better you will feel. Well I am here to tell you... I have given my self completely, to the point of not knowing who I am anymore. If you were to ask me: What would I do if I had 5 hours completely to my self, and money was not an issue. I have thought about it, and truly I don't know.<br />
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A feeling of total control loss, starts from the beginning of the day and it progressively gets worse. It seams like I am always trying to catch up, but I am never close. My thoughts are everywhere, I can't concentrate in one thing. And the overwhelming feeling of failure sets in, and a I loose it. Funny thing is, I can walk around and no one would know that I am .30 seconds from a melt down. I can make jokes, and laugh as if nothing is wrong at all. I can have a perfect night out with my husband, and not show that am dying inside.<br />
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Then I have these moments of clarity, and I look back and try really hard to see why I am so miserable. I have a good life. I have more then what I need and want. I am healthy, my children are amazing. My husband loves me. I never go to bed hungry. I drive a beautiful car. So WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME.<br />
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If you know. Please feel free to tell me, cause I am sick of it.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-86128567687061123062012-03-08T11:08:00.001-08:002012-03-08T11:09:14.957-08:00Safety or Stupidity...So lets start out by saying... I am NOT a mom who goes by the book, actually I can't stand the book. What does IT know about MY child? Nothing that's how much...<br />
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I hate Dr.'s offices, I stay away from them like I stay away from poop. (well actually that's not a good comparison, Poop and I meet many time thought out the day) but you get it right??!! I hate it so much that my husband had to cough out blood before I agreed that he need to go to the hospital, and be diagnosed with Pneumonia.<br />
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Worst then going to the Doctors is to be reprimanded by the doctor... "You mean you don't know if your son can hop in one leg over 40 times?"<br />
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*That's right DOC, and here I thought cooking dinner and cleaning the bathroom was more important then counting hops. You see why I hate books? If I had read the darn book I would have know to count the hops, so that I wouldn't look stupid.<br />
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Anyways... after 3 kids i learned... Always answer what they want to hear. "Is your child out of the bottle?" *Absolutely... (nope, and she wont be for another 8 - 10 months) "Can she stack 3 or 4 blocks?" * Oh Yes... (actually we don't own blocks in my house... I got tired of picking them up)<br />
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So when this question came up... "Does your child ride in the rear side of the vehicle facing the rear where she will stay until she is 2 years old?" *** WOWOWOWOW... HOLD THE FORK. Did you just say 2 years old? "Yes they are changing the law... " Who is they, and if they are that stupid why are they involved with the law?<br />
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Seriously... Did anyone give this a second thought? Or a thought at all? Apparently they are already making car seats to accommodation this crazy idea. And I bought one, well every 1st birthday my children receive for their gift their big kid seat. And since we have a 10 hour drive next week I fully intended to do it with my 11 month old facing forward so she could be a happy baby. Happy baby = Happy mommy = happy driver with no road rage. But today for the fun of it I installed the space ship in my car, facing the rear.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Apparently my car is too small for this car seat, because I had to drive with my knees up on my forehead in order for the little metal ball to balance on the green. And just you wait... she will soon be smart enough to know that her siblings are watching a movie while she stares at a awesome tan colored head rest. And then she will scream her very loud lungs out. Oh and for the record I drive a Suburban, so if you plan to obey this ridiculous law. You have got to get something bigger. Good luck finding that.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So you tell me, is it safer to have one year old facing forward while happily watching tv, and a calm mother is alert enough to prevent accidents, or to have a crowded unhappy 18 month old, screaming while a mother stiff as a mummy, is trying to swerve the car she didn't see cause she was trying to calm her baby and trying to see through her knees? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Yup that question is going to my, "Absolutely doc, she is facing the rear!!!..." of my head rest.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just saying...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-53941439369740309032012-03-07T14:55:00.001-08:002012-03-07T14:57:10.183-08:00The pros of being alone....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7S2sb7yDj-fmeY4STZTgUEiJDrSg70QeyOijW9OnJwu7fQhy36K84hNz91Y2z0GRXeBmOTIDRtRpArTTMyQUBeV2SUUvodbiIxYqu7f2ExRFxbPflEj0wiBCuPTxxS9U4mplrqNIawNf/s1600/120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw7S2sb7yDj-fmeY4STZTgUEiJDrSg70QeyOijW9OnJwu7fQhy36K84hNz91Y2z0GRXeBmOTIDRtRpArTTMyQUBeV2SUUvodbiIxYqu7f2ExRFxbPflEj0wiBCuPTxxS9U4mplrqNIawNf/s320/120.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You see this man??!! Well he turned 33 on Monday, and just that fast he left. At noon he boarded on a plane to Salt Lake City. At first felt bad for the guy, I mean spending his birthday away from the family... That's sad right? Well a couple of days have gone by and I no longer feel bad for him. He calls me every once in a while, and tells me he misses me and the kids. And that the conference is as good as a conference gets... blahblahh blahblah blahbla</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Truth is... He sees it as work, a work related conference. And in his free time he catches up with home work. Sounds horrible doesn't it?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well this is how I see it. He is in Salt Lake City, at a Marriott with no kids sleeping soundly all night in a clean king size bed, that gets made everyday, by someone other then him self. He wakes up to an all you can eat breakfast, which he enjoys it without the kids screaming at each other and asking for more of whatever you managed to plop at their plate that morning. He then proceed to a conference and spends a few hours listening to something about his favorite subject... Airplanes. He goes out for lunch, a little more plane talk, and a nice complete dinner that he does not have to cook. Like... Cafe Rio (last night) or Rodizio tonight with my sisters boy friend, (which for the record... lets specify!!! that he would not even know what a Brazilian stake tastes like if not for me. A BRAZILIAN...) tomorrow night he will join my sister, MY SISTER and her boy friend for an amazing dinner somewhere, and Frozen Custard. And on Friday he will go Snow boarding for the first half of the day before he needs to fly back to this zoo called home. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hard work I tell you. Do they have a conference like that for a stay at home mom? If not... does anyone want to start one with me? I think we should should plan one for the summer in NEW YORK. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anyways... the pros of being alone, is that I don't have to cook huge dinners. In fact Spencer planned the menu this week. We had Pancakes with blue berries, on Monday, Mac n Cheese yesterday, today some chicken wraps. tomorrow turkey burgers and Friday we will go out to a fancy little place here in town called McDs. Another good thing is, I have not lifted a finger in this house except to type, and click the remote control. the laundry is all clean on the floor of the living room waiting for it to be folded. The kitchen... well I don't know where it is anymore, I cant see it under all the junk me and the kids dragged in there. The table is buried by papers and color pencils, and the floor is a perfect place for Ms, Annabelle to have a picnic. Now I know I am setting my self for disaster, the maid is gonna have to work extra hard to clean it up. OH and when I say maid, I mean ME. But for now... I will pretend to feel sorry for him, and his HARD work. Because, Well, that's what good little wives do. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr-J6PAz4I0JFTOXVEta-vYZPOrzfvgpJxEc-kGoZysxlCHyf1JvpUEkfemW675VM7G-AY9DYhR_Fi2JxdJhIJYDPHQtq9lpuQwe83qO_xgrQERmIP95h2RVGJikbJ65-fqMMrVmE5CPSq/s1600/126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr-J6PAz4I0JFTOXVEta-vYZPOrzfvgpJxEc-kGoZysxlCHyf1JvpUEkfemW675VM7G-AY9DYhR_Fi2JxdJhIJYDPHQtq9lpuQwe83qO_xgrQERmIP95h2RVGJikbJ65-fqMMrVmE5CPSq/s320/126.JPG" width="240" /></a>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-70719582644336680272012-03-06T14:35:00.000-08:002012-03-06T14:35:49.836-08:00I'm on the edge...<div style="text-align: center;">Hello, my name is Vanessa... and I am about to reveal my dark little secret of the week.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">*WARNING: From here on it's depressing, and it may change your opinion about me to worse.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Right now, I am shaking. I am about to have a major break down. My head is pounding, it has been since I woke up this morning. I am holding back the tears, waiting for my husband to come home in 30 minutes so I can turn on the shower and cry under hot water until it runs out and I have to get out before I suffer from hypothermia. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have been a single mom, my husband has been out everyday this week till past 9 pm doing work or church stuff. Last week though he was home, he was upstairs doing home work until past 2:00 am. My baby is screaming right now in her crib, for no reason... and her cry has become THE most annoying sound in the world. I have no desire to clean or cook. In fact all I want is a few hours alone, ALONE. to sleep, and do what ever the heck I feel like. I want my mom. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I have had to clean poop off too many surfaces this week. I am sick and tired of cleaning the same things everyday over and over. without any HELP. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I dont know what enxiety attack is...<br />
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<br />
Okay... it is now 2 weeks since I typed that... It turns out I did have an anxiety attack, and if you have never had one.... It is a horrible feeling. As I was typing I felt my blood boil, and it was coming from my toes up to my chest, and it got to a point where I cried uncontrollably and felt like I could not breath. I then knew exactly what is was... My mother suffers from depression of and on, and she described that feeling to me and I knew then I needed help. I called her and she talked me through breathing and then through calming down. And the truth about me was out... Now I had to tell her, and my husband what a disappointment I really am. It turns out.... I AM NOT PERFECT. I can't do it all, and although I would like people to think I can. It's not healthy to have to live up to my expectations of my self. I have spent the last 2 week re-evaluating my life, and I now understand that the only way I will ever be okay with the idea of not being perfect is if I let the world know my reality. The truth is... I am good in many things, but I am not the best.<br />
<br />
I decided that best way to let everyone know who I am is here, if I start here it will be easier to live it. So as you see, I took off the pink and flowers and the frilly stuff from my blog. I did find this template, which is kind of how I feel lately, black and white with hints of color. I have good days and bad days, and some days are just days.<br />
<br />
Hopefully now that I wont be trying so hard to have a picture perfect blog, and life. I will be more faithful to this blogging thing. I will come in my good moments and in my raw moments to share whatever and get it out of my chest. I understand if you totally never come back. I mean... who wants to be near a downer? not me I tell you... But unfortunately she follows me around lately.<br />
<br />
<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-67095801755437525202012-02-06T20:18:00.000-08:002012-02-06T20:18:10.690-08:00I am not one to boast.So.... I am not, well I try not to be. And if I ever came across as snobby or flashy, or what ever it is they call it in the street these days, I am truly sorry. It was not intentional. <br />
<br />
I believe people like that are not very likable, and heavens knows that my personally is one that likes to be liked. Even though I do say things I shouldn't at very inappropriate times. And I have had to throw my foot up from the back of my throat a few times. I do try to be nice, and mindful of people. <br />
<br />
Ok now that I have set you up into beliving that i am a humble person. I have to say that this post is all about bragging about my self. In October, I realized how unhappy with myself I was. I was just not me, nothing looked good, nothing fit good, nothing made me look how I like to look. I felt frumpy, and wow that's a bad feeling. For a weekend great but everyday of your life? Oh no... Soooo I could sit in the couch, and eat my problems away making them bigger problems. Literaly... Or I could get up and do something. Which I was ready to do. <br />
<br />
I started with a goal, 20 pounds... I shut my mouth and started running, and dancing. (Zumba) Holy cow... You know how hard it is to start a diet in the end of the year? When all the food is out. 3 days a week, in the gym not stoping till I was out of breath drenched in the tears of my fat crying. <br />
I felt so good, when I steped in the scale and pounds were falling off every week. In 2 months I was at my goal. But my goal changed, just 10 more pounds... And for a couple weeks I had cursed my self. Nothing came off. Soooo 5 days a week and finally 30 pounds later I am feeling great, I was able to fit into my prom dress room 2002. That's crazy, and if I can fit into that my wedding dress should fit too. <br />
<br />
And even though I should be happy and pleased with myself... I just moved my goal another 10 pounds. And I got a month and a half to do it. <br />
<br />
I think I can, I think I can, I know I can, I know I will. <br />
<br />
Scream fat, scream...Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-80801409518139776152012-02-03T16:07:00.000-08:002012-02-03T16:29:19.750-08:001 thing about me...There are a few things in life that I soooo could live without.<br />
<br />
1. Folding Laundry<br />
2. Doing Dishes<br />
3. GROCERY SHOPPING<br />
<br />
I am not sure why grocery shopping is such a burden, I have always hated. I don't know if it's because I am spending bundles of money is crap that will end up making my arms and boobs bigger, or if it is the pleasant environment, where everyone is so polite and kind that they will move (shove) your cart for you, kid inside and all, if heavens forbid you are on their way.<br />
<br />
Because I love this task so much I have been putting it off ALLLL week. You know it's bad when your kids start their own grocery list, and not just of junk they want but real stuff like Pull Ups. TODAY was the day... I did not even go to the gym,<i> I mean c'mom that's a work out of it's own.</i> I spent my morning balancing checkbook, making a list, and menu. I took my energizing vitamins. And by 3 PM I was ready to go.<br />
<br />
I opened the Garage and hooorayyyy, no car. No car that fits more then 2 people that is. Apparently today was the day that my car needed an oil change. So hubby took car, keys, room, mobility, and CAR SEATS!!!!???? And I was left with the lawn mower. (mustang) I mean it's just as small as a mower.<br />
<br />
I have to admit, the thought crossed my mind. "well, that's it.... can't go grocery shopping." And if it wasn't for the fact that I needed to pick up my son, 5 minutes ago. I would have marched back in my house where I would watch tv, blaming the husband for not having food around. I opened the door of the car to find out that the back seat was covered in books, papers, joy stick, and whatever else he could fit in there. I pushed all the junk to one side and buckled both my girls into one seat belt, and drove to the school. And since we are in the car and I already prepared mentaly for this task. We went to the store.<br />
<br />
NOW... We didn't go to PUBLIX, or KROGERS, or any other awesome supermarkets. Because in this tiny little town I live in,<i> I am not sure it's worthy of the name town...</i> We'll call it... a Gathering of people, "alls we got round hears'a wamart!!!"<br />
<br />
We walk in, to find that the entire gathering of people had the same idea I had. It was like a family reunion, of way to large people wearing way to little cloths, "strollin round n round, loadin up the junk and bears, just gettin ready for tha supper bowl sundy naght"<br />
<br />
Anyways.... We go in, and like I said... I AM READY!!! I CAN DO THIS!!! BRING IT ON!!! Right after I prepare a bottle, and lay the baby IN the cart on top of a jacket. (no carseat remember) OK.... NOOOOWW lets do it.<br />
<br />
BANANAS check<br />
HAM AND CHEESE check<br />
AVOCADOS check<br />
ZUCCHINI check<br />
<br />
I was blazing through this... "not bad" I thought, "they are not asking for anything"<br />
<br />
BREAD che... "I DONT LIKE THAT KIND," <i>well i don't care if you like it </i>"WELL, YOU ARE MAKING SANDWICHES FOR ME TO TAKE TO SCHOOL RIGHT??" <i>yes??!! </i>"I THINK YOU SHOULD CARE, SINCE I AM THE ONE EATING IT." <i>well in that case... Let's grab 2 bags of it.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
BREAD CHECK<br />
BOX OF CHOCOLATE GRANOLA BARS, no check necessary it was not on the list.<br />
TOMATO SAUCE check<br />
JUICE "I WANT APPLE JUICE" <b>"I WON WAN APPLE JUICE, I WAN RED JUICE" </b>"NO STEPHANIE RED JUICE IS GROSE" <b>"YOU GROSE" </b><i> Ok, we will get apple this week.</i><br />
A BAG OF WHITE SWIRL DOVE CHOCOLATE no check needed on this one either.<br />
CEREAL " I WANT HONEY CHEERIOS" <b>"I WANT FRUITY CHEEOUS" </b><br />
BOX OF COOKIES N CREAM POP TART, not on the list<br />
<br />
And an argument was created in every single isle from then on, We of course had to stop to pee, and amazingly enough both potty trained kids HAD to go. Spencer fell and got hurt cause he was calmly running up n down the isle. Stephanie had a HUGE break down, because she can not have Fairy Pull Ups, She must PEE on Princess Pull Ups only. And we grabbed a couple more things that were not on the list, like chocolate covered cookies, and some over priced buddy fruity, (glorified apple sauce) and it was now time to go pay...<br />
<br />
$150.00 dollars later, I managed to fit me 3 kids and a shopping cart of Crap that will make my arms and boobs bigger. In a mustang with a library of it's own, even in the trunk.<br />
<br />
I unloaded the bags and found something chocolaty in every single bag.<br />
<br />
Next time I am tempted to go shopping with 3 kids again, I will grab a chocolate and read this post and let that desire pass. And from now on I will hit the awesomeness of WALMART at midnight.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-46790357817142913482012-02-01T17:31:00.000-08:002012-02-01T17:57:47.661-08:00The best thing in life...<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When I was 12 years old my family moved to Deltona, FL. from Brazil. Where I lived for the next 11 years. While growing up, I remember all the sacrifices my parents made to put food on the table. To make ends meet. My father did everything from singing at weddings to selling and transporting baby chicks to farmers in Brazil. Now you may say that he went through all this because he does not have a college degree? Actually my father is the best Jeweler out there. I am not just saying this cause he is my father. But his engraving skills amaze anyone who sees it. He has been making jewelry since he was 11 years old. And is just amazing at what he does. But due to some horrible circumstances, and events and the fact that Brazilians can't afford jewelry in Brazil. He could not work in this field, forcing him to do everything else in the book. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Anyways... The Lord brought us to the US when I was 12 years old, and my dad was able to work with what he was gifted with. Coming here with NOTHING but 3 suitcases, we had an entire life to start from scratch. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Living so close to Disney World, it was their dream to take us there. They spent the first year of their US lives saving for this ridiculously expensive dream come true. And on Dec, 24th 1997 we went to Disney. Hoping that our first Christmas away from all of our loved ones, and dollar store gifts would be a little better if we spent it there. Along with the enormous lines at the rides, and people speaking every language under the sun. That is a day I will never forget, We were the first ones in the park that day, and the last ones out. My dad wanted to document every memory, so he bought a video camera at a yard sale.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am pretty sure this is the exact model.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.getghostgear.com/images/vhs-video-camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.getghostgear.com/images/vhs-video-camera.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He carried this beast, everywhere. Video taped every parade, and smile on his girls face that day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We also could not afford to eat or buy anything else in the park, so my mother dragged this cooler around.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRWT3uQ8ih9vaECaqjMlT0V6QltrVXrPdmKYwg5EkMF6QHCvG-1zw" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRWT3uQ8ih9vaECaqjMlT0V6QltrVXrPdmKYwg5EkMF6QHCvG-1zw" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Also from a yard sale, notice there are no wheels on that baby. We solved that... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bestluggagecarts.com/i//450_open_lg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.bestluggagecarts.com/i//450_open_lg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Strap it on to this little baby and your set. This cooler had water, sandwiches, juice, snacks. Bottles of milk for my sister, candy, now that I think of it. It was almost like the bread and fish that fed a thousand. We never ran out of food. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We watched the fireworks, and from the corner of my eyes I watched my parents cry. At that time I though it was because of Disney World. NOW I know better, they were crying because at the ages of 30 and 33 they left everything behinde to give their children a chance to a better life, they cried because they missed their parents, and siblings back in Brazil, they cried because through honest hard work they made the dreams of 3 little girls come true, they cried because of the unknown scary future of wondering if moving here was the right thing to do. (excuse me while I go ball my eyes out) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">***** 5 MIN LATER*****</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Last year when we received our tax returns, in an envelope I put aside a small fortune to make the dreams of 2 little kids come true, once again. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And 14 years almost to the day, we took Spencer and Stephanie, my own kids to Disney world. My mom went with us. And while watching the parade and fire works. I cried once again, and watched my mother cry. I cried of gratitude, because if it were not for that great sacrifice that my 2 loving parents made 15 years ago. I would not be the person I am, I would not have the husband and life that I have. And most of all, I would not have seen the sparkle in my daughters eyes, as she looked in pure amazement at the princesses. I would not have carried my tiny little princess passed out of pure exhaustion in my arms. My mother cried... because she remembered that day, and all that she was feeling, and now she knew it was all worth it. To be able to see her grand kids dream come true. She was able to see how far they have come, how much they have endured. And it was all worth it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mother... Words will never be enough to say how thankful I am for your unselfish decision many years ago, that has changed my life forever. I love you, and wish I could be half the mother you are, some day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfqimk5AFwkypAr4zBbixaTk0Iu9JcXzdfD-mwW4HAUVfXlJbY_VcMfDY30nan4IiPnz9d1WGrnz947zYfojQA0iqsqxQuCSZdtrezNzdHBYuuQ1a7p0YsQPG7C_cOHqb2g_9YKQo3sAd/s1600/DSC02475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfqimk5AFwkypAr4zBbixaTk0Iu9JcXzdfD-mwW4HAUVfXlJbY_VcMfDY30nan4IiPnz9d1WGrnz947zYfojQA0iqsqxQuCSZdtrezNzdHBYuuQ1a7p0YsQPG7C_cOHqb2g_9YKQo3sAd/s320/DSC02475.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In this moment we were getting ready to leave, when Stephanie started balling. And with every fiber of her little soul said... "Mommy, I wanna do that agaaaaiiinnnn, puizzzz. Mommy!!! I wanna see that again. Puizzz mommy. Just one mooor tsime. PUIZZZ!!!" </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Soooo, guess what we are doing with this year's tax return?</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnD7EsaLFmRaovZK49temFD3OiEKbBWoo3xouQRENId_lRWfNzULBXsc8ex0NnP2wqD7s0p8pwuARu9SFv0xKY5Jugw3rRhrhH6VqZ74mpO7tbM3jqiaNP6btb7ASgE0TgDsu1WDJphmm/s1600/DSC02485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnD7EsaLFmRaovZK49temFD3OiEKbBWoo3xouQRENId_lRWfNzULBXsc8ex0NnP2wqD7s0p8pwuARu9SFv0xKY5Jugw3rRhrhH6VqZ74mpO7tbM3jqiaNP6btb7ASgE0TgDsu1WDJphmm/s320/DSC02485.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Knowing all the sacrifices that were made, and how far we've come, how hard it was. Allowing my children to still believe in a fairy tale world, to witness their eyes sparkle, and their little hearts skip a beat, because of some make believe character. I will do my best for it to last as long as possible... And that is one of the best things in Life....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-30804445173329100682012-01-17T13:32:00.000-08:002012-01-17T13:38:07.472-08:00My baby...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifr96ttr3goWfGkswFSZWe-er5Y14i5Xe6AEmC0xfMV-9-tFvzjeqfi0w58VEQLosWaWJv5YKq1UcSUF4a3ru6YYL3AEsshPtYEC_PHwzgi9e-O9yUKWBPfLh3ajIzzbPYj7Pr2R2a-Ec1/s1600/IMG_9867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifr96ttr3goWfGkswFSZWe-er5Y14i5Xe6AEmC0xfMV-9-tFvzjeqfi0w58VEQLosWaWJv5YKq1UcSUF4a3ru6YYL3AEsshPtYEC_PHwzgi9e-O9yUKWBPfLh3ajIzzbPYj7Pr2R2a-Ec1/s320/IMG_9867.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Do you see that super sized pumpkin, in the middle?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">YES! Believe it or not that is my 6th month old. <i>sniff sniff</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlwdX3p0jFp9LZV1jcAgnxffc3Uv0QsvDDaBbeydpmeGiupK8XYXHvnPjl9vDjCWI8r5ohRjZfRgRCyK5MNTNXknyJKD2dUmuEyCSHtqq1J6omjgwIwGsB0MmC0pF0EhmoMyYt7IJa5bf/s1600/IMG_9868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlwdX3p0jFp9LZV1jcAgnxffc3Uv0QsvDDaBbeydpmeGiupK8XYXHvnPjl9vDjCWI8r5ohRjZfRgRCyK5MNTNXknyJKD2dUmuEyCSHtqq1J6omjgwIwGsB0MmC0pF0EhmoMyYt7IJa5bf/s320/IMG_9868.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Isn't she just full of yummyness, that makes your hear melt? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvhSAmee8AHyJJULTW7WlmB3v64e4U5T1yuL1Kt8qep3oez1-O9RhXW4_Kzz_NMsq_Nf9ssm6m8yCBeT1fJtVwfQdwI_A8xvik5EmvZTZpkIfCQTJpZuGaSCU_8ot07g5nUw1nFmYcble/s1600/IMG_9862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvhSAmee8AHyJJULTW7WlmB3v64e4U5T1yuL1Kt8qep3oez1-O9RhXW4_Kzz_NMsq_Nf9ssm6m8yCBeT1fJtVwfQdwI_A8xvik5EmvZTZpkIfCQTJpZuGaSCU_8ot07g5nUw1nFmYcble/s320/IMG_9862.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These little girls are 1/2 of my heart that picked up and decided to hover around the earth.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOG-Gy43Ds3CihLr7pikSw1Sm_hP9f73I5JwxJjzxCQD7ClGPmeRLZThTslTpJToAtC4o2jsGN89Zsn3umN6zM-X0bcRkVIfZqIdbzH5lKbN3Ky7WONfUlI9EvsCd2QAJxVq7CoCdhT25M/s1600/IMG_9860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOG-Gy43Ds3CihLr7pikSw1Sm_hP9f73I5JwxJjzxCQD7ClGPmeRLZThTslTpJToAtC4o2jsGN89Zsn3umN6zM-X0bcRkVIfZqIdbzH5lKbN3Ky7WONfUlI9EvsCd2QAJxVq7CoCdhT25M/s320/IMG_9860.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh there!!!! Now in this picture is my whole heart that walks outside of me. (I might even share some love with that man in the back there, then again... maybe not) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Annabelle fits right in our family. For the past 6 and 1/2 months she has molded our lives just enough to drive everyone madly in love with her. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here are some facts about our little chummy girl. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Belle is in the 98% in height, and 95% for weight. And has been since she was 2 months old. Right now she is 29 inches long, and 19.5 pounds.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She nursed the longest of them all for 5 months, which for me it's amazing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She is allergic to something in formula, so we do soy formula. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She has this really deep, so sweet, sometimes stinky fat crease roll on her left leg. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> She has 2 teeth, that came through this weekend. (that was fun)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She started sleeping through the night at 6 months, only after I put her in her own room in the pitch dark room.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She has crazy wild curly long hair. AND I LOVE IT.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She will crinkle her nose and breath heavy with her nose, when she is happy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She started eating solids, and her favorite is BANANA, but she will eat anything you send her way.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She learned to sit down like a big girl, about 2 weeks ago right at 6 months. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This little girl went on a crazy road trip out to UTAH, in 2 days... and did amazing when she was only 4 months old.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">P.S. This post should have been posted before the last one, so for updates read the previous post. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-31004409106048222332012-01-17T12:43:00.000-08:002012-01-17T12:43:34.981-08:00Get it together woman!!!!I am so disappointed at myself, it makes no sense to me why I can't just get this blog going again.<br />
Maybe it's because... this historic lap top I have is dying. I can't load up photos anymore, it takes forever to turn it on, it has to be plugged into the wall at ALL times. <i>(so really its a table top, since it sits on top of the table all day) </i>And my husband finally cleared the 2 thousand viruses I downloaded a few months ago...<br />
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*P.S. when your computer asks if it's okay to open or load a certain thing... read it before clicking yes. Even if you're in the middle of something and 10 thousand little windows pop up, Its not cool to just push yes!<br />
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My kids are getting so big, It's sad, and exciting. They are all in different stages of life, and my life well... I don't know where it is. HAHA... No really, what is a 27 year old woman doing these days?<br />
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I love every bit of it.<br />
Hard? YES!!!<br />
Crazy? SOMETIMES!!!<br />
Boring? NEVER<br />
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I campaigned and got the best calling in the ward. I teach Relief Society, once a month, for one hour, out of the manual. AWESOME... But really, I love it. I am learning so much. I also love having real answers to my questions. Not just the standard youth answers that I have had from being in young women for last 10 years... Read your scriptures, go to church, pray. We get into some interesting topics, and I love the hand outs, and to make it all cute-n-stuff.<br />
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I also am looking for something to do, besides cleaning, cooking, feeding, changing, teaching, screaming, laughing, crying. I got those down, baby!!! And if you're wondering, that's what it takes to be a mother these days.<br />
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I am not sure if I want to bring my scrap booking mess out, or if I want to take on a whole new hobby. But one thing I am sure of is... I need something. Life has been interesting, bumpy, and busy. I am falling in love with my husband all over again. And that is awesome! I never stopped loving the man, but he became more of a helper than a lover in the last few months. That's right... you heard me. L-O-V-E-R... It's important you know. We are dating again, Sneaking out when the kids are napping to watch a movie upstairs, we are playing games with one another, and not including the children in ALL that we do. We are being silly, laughing when we shouldn't, playing footsie under the table. <i>When was the last time you played footsie with your husband in public? </i><br />
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Heck we are abandoning the kids for a whole week in March, and going on a cruise! Thank goodness for MY mom. Who knows that we need it. It's been 9 years since we met. Almost a decade! And so much has changed, but one thing we know cannot change, is our love for one another. And sometimes... We just need to work at it.<br />
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The kids... well!!! we do our best.<br />
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Spencer is a little boy! He says things that shouldn't be said. Like... <i>pardon my FRENCH </i> "Oh!!! my nuts." SERIOUSLY. WHO TAUGHT HIM THAT? He also is fascinated by the sounds he can make with his body. LETS GET ONE THING STRAIGHT... We do not burp in front of others in my house, much less "toot" around anyone else. So where did get the idea that he can do it and then say "excuse me", and think that he wont end up in time out? SCHOOL??? grows. He is a growing little boy, he eats all day, and is thin as a tooth pick. <i>Wish I could do that, I think of food and gain a pound. </i>He is doing great at school. His teacher is always complimenting on how smart and well mannered he is. He is also reading a few things, and is extremely responsible with his school stuff.<br />
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</div>Stephanie, is our little princess. Everything she does is girly, she is delicate, petite, and vain. She is very affectionate, and sensitive. She is a picky eater, but eats everything as long as you demand her to. She loves dolls, and barbies, and shoes. She has to have her nails painted. Do not let her see make up, she will go crazy. She is amazingly smart, she is not even 3 yet, and does not go to pre-school but she can recognize all her colors, and many of the letters. She is also a great little helper, always does what I ask.<br />
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Annabelle, is my biggest baby yet. I sit in wonders at how tall and gigantic this child is. She is a very good eater. She can sit, clap, roll over when she wants, she scoots all over the floor. She waives bye bye and she can nod her head NO!. Smiles all the time. She will give kisses, by opening her mouth as wide as it gets, pressing it against your cheek and nodding her head sideways saying AW- AW-AW! She just refuses to do it, in front of a camera. She was also my first baby who's first word was mama. She sleeps through the night and many days sleeps in until 8:30.<br />
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Borja!? Well he is as busy as always. He is working full time, he is going to school part time. And will be done with classes this summer. Having only his dissertation to finish. He also gives flying lessons for fun, still a counselor at church, and has given up soda, Which believe or not has been the hardest thing to do this year.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYjzm_kk8_gIaXCl747uNjK5Mn5ziJ5SgFis5q6dJvhgtKcODnW8MU0Cc7HB25LpoemYhyphenhyphenOWSNDt1yj_oFrdIHrqK8Xx8-jWsn8Lir_22NNyrMj-UL35HEmfnpxNZcUAABLWCEzydWB5q/s1600/380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUYjzm_kk8_gIaXCl747uNjK5Mn5ziJ5SgFis5q6dJvhgtKcODnW8MU0Cc7HB25LpoemYhyphenhyphenOWSNDt1yj_oFrdIHrqK8Xx8-jWsn8Lir_22NNyrMj-UL35HEmfnpxNZcUAABLWCEzydWB5q/s320/380.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2m7H_SdggRh-1GNguHLSz9BFV94KcF7FOm1FSCFgTU-PVrGvYff8Ix5_3LHWlNMLMGbgV6kjZsCfTne7WBOIW_h6TW9XiFbDbYaRQBM496xNrBv84xTXJMt6XHqZ0phvHktHV9-InwnVN/s1600/399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2m7H_SdggRh-1GNguHLSz9BFV94KcF7FOm1FSCFgTU-PVrGvYff8Ix5_3LHWlNMLMGbgV6kjZsCfTne7WBOIW_h6TW9XiFbDbYaRQBM496xNrBv84xTXJMt6XHqZ0phvHktHV9-InwnVN/s320/399.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Well, we have our ups and downs. But overall I think we are doing okay, Taking on life a day at a time, praying through difficult times. And trying to cherish every moment we have with our very small and demanding bunch of children, which will only increase for a few more years.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-78526736739896798312011-11-08T19:10:00.000-08:002011-11-08T19:10:37.877-08:00Coming back can be so difficult.I made I conscious decision a little while back... That I was to give up on my blogging, for a while. My life has changed a little, and when I say a little I mean completely. My time has been stretched so thin, my goals have been rearranged, and my priorities somewhat put in order. But lately I have been having this itch, the blogging itch. Things happen and a blog is created on my head, I also would like to start again so that I can keep up with the little things that happens in the kids lives. So I am attempting to be back, I am not making any promises. But there will be a whole lot of catching up, so bare with me.<br />
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One thing that has been on my mind lately, is something that happened a couple of weeks ago. I was having a very rough week, a trying one. The devil was working on my confidence as a wife, mother and woman. The weather man announced a really bad thunderstorm for the following day. The running club at Spencer's school was canceled, and when I woke up that day, and saw the sky I immediately thought... "red sky in the morning, a sailors sure warning!"<br />
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However... The day turned out to be beautiful, I took Spencer to school, went to the gym, went to lunch with my husband, never saw a cloud in the sky. The thought of a bad storm was the furthest thing from my mind. After I picked up Spencer from school, we were very tired from a long busy day... Stephanie went to bed, Annabelle was asleep, and Spencer was going to watch How to Train your dragon! So what better time for a little nap.<br />
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I laid down in bed, and closed my eyes. When a feeling came, then a still small voice. "get your car in the garage" I sat up in bed, right away. And under my breath said, "are you kidding me? have you seen the size of my car and the status of my garage?" as it started to rain, this time that feeling came a little stronger, get it in NOW!<br />
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I jumped out of bed and ran to the garage, started throwing things to the sides, piling thing on top of each other even the motorcycle was moved faster then has ever been. Spencer was screaming asking me what I was doing, and a little scared to see his mom going so crazy. I grabbed the keys ran to the car in the rain that was now strong. and put my SUBURBAN in the garage. The garage door did not close but it was enough, as soon as the car was in and I opened the door to get out. baseball size hail was falling from the sky. I have never seen such thing. I didn't even know it was possible.<br />
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As we sat there looking out the door, I stood amazed and reassured that God lives, and he was watching out for me. Even after all the signs, he gave me clear direction of what to do. And when the time came, I was able and worthy of such inspiration. Now you may think... "well it's just a car, or the insurance would have paid for it, not a big deal."<br />
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I do believe that had my car been damaged, it would have been the last drop needed to put me over the edge. Yes... It is only a car, a material thing. But when you are doubting everything else in your life, little things such as this, becomes major. And our deductible as we found out earlier this summer... Is $1000 dollars, we cannot afford it, and I would have to live with my car being all lumpy. A friend of mine's husband own's a state farm here in the area, and his office alone received over 70 claims of hail damage that day. As we drive in town now, I believe every hail fixer in the United States has relocated to our very small city. I counted today, and in a matter of 3 miles there were 7 places, trailers and tents with signs for Hail repair.<br />
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So was it coincidence? Absolutely not. "Trust the Lord with all thy heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding." Next time that I receive that little feeling, or hear the still small voice. I pray and hope that I will do as the Lord guides me to. Even if I have to shove North pole into my fridge, I would like to think I will at least try, and I am sure the Lord would bless us for our efforts, He is a good and loving Father in Heaven.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-30322580222880645172011-07-27T20:38:00.000-07:002011-07-27T20:45:51.057-07:00Personality Traits.<div style="text-align: center;">Meet 2 of my three angels...<br />
This is Spencer Nicholas, he is 5 years old, and 49 inches long. He loves to play WII, Soccer, swim, and bug his little sister.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDmwME9jBg-MeepqsgiFEQFDQMcIeNypUbZN-VB_IkYMfxVDIjXoId2rb8NJhuOZHsbkAWoShI5VAfQVPp87FbCxZ8NfwhTQ7wNwTeDGCSsdqMMmb8XYKIzqD19Nbedmx79DveSXp10zM/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDmwME9jBg-MeepqsgiFEQFDQMcIeNypUbZN-VB_IkYMfxVDIjXoId2rb8NJhuOZHsbkAWoShI5VAfQVPp87FbCxZ8NfwhTQ7wNwTeDGCSsdqMMmb8XYKIzqD19Nbedmx79DveSXp10zM/s320/036.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Stephanie, she is in her awesome terrible 2's stage and because she is a girl the DRAMA come naturally. She is a sweet girl, with all sorts of bad ideas. *Just today, I caught her in front of the toilet with her pants down, holding on to her, well more like pinching the junk out her girl parts to point it at the toilet while making a puddle on the floor. And when I told her she is a girl and needs to sit on the toilet she looked at me as if I am crazy pulled her wet pants up and walked away. It's also the stage where if Spencer doe it than I can do it too. Awesome, Awesome Stage!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I am convinced that you are who you will become. Let me explain... My children come from Heaven loaded with extremely dangerous ideas, and very little fear of executing them. Hence all the injuries at our house. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They don't think twice about climbing on glass coffee tables, sliding down wooden stairs inside sleeping bags, jumping in a swimming pool without water wings, and they look at a wall with shelves and imagine it to be a rock climbing wall.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They also learn how to climb out of their cribs by the time they were 15 months old, by throwing themselves head first onto the floor forcing us to put them in real beds for the fear of ending up with paraplegic kids. They also have a poop fetish, I am not sure why they love to touch it and rub in all the places that poop should never touch. My daughter waxed our wooden floors last year with it while I was knocked out with pain killers from removing a wisdom tooth. And she also put a pellet of it up her nose in another occasion. My son used it as chalk to color the walls in his room when I though he was sleeping. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I know there are many children out there who don't do this kind of stuff. Sooooo??? WHY ME? Well when my children's creativity and skill are put into good actions they are amazing... Spencer learned how to ride his bike without training wheels on his birthday when he turned 4 years old. He also memorized the first 4 Articles of faith when he was 3. He could sing and say clear words at a very early age. He can make a paper airplane that flies faster and longer than many adults can. He is an amazing soccer player for his age, he scored most of the goals in his games. And he is pretty much a little leader, he leads all his little friends to execute his bad ideas with him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stephanie can ride a scooter, she potty trained herself the month after she turned 2. She can sing most of the ABC song. And have I mentioned they can both understand 3 languages. Sooo, I will continue to clean poop, and wipe bloody noses, As long as my children continue to develop their little brains, eventually some day they will use it mostly for good. I hope!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">P.S. Check and support me on my new blog <a href="http://www.dinnerdeal.blogspot.com/">dinnerdeal.blogspot.com</a> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Thanks</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-55146513764658539782011-06-27T19:53:00.000-07:002011-06-27T19:53:49.049-07:00We have a Graduate...<div style="text-align: center;">I know it's silly, and I always thought it was kind of dumb. However when it's your preschooler wearing a mini sized cap and gown, you will be just as proud as if they were graduating from Harvard. </div><div style="text-align: center;">In a way, it felt like a stage of his life was being closed, and another opening. He is no longer a baby, he will no longer take naps... He will learn Math, and will be writing, and homework. Exciting... and Sad. I can just see myself CRYING for a whole day come August first when he walks in to Kindergarten. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDLUX-6a7Q0lRbMoM_S7Pl9dhYyhC-Ui0vSttWaJn_m378ho0jZ2e4fvuorH5XJebDLj2YCGqlqo9DmPrCluFXDGu4tsV5tjU8eRv6X1meZGHEEpYCKD1wimvU7oTyua1Ig_nFU9q_0Oo/s1600/IMG_1871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqDLUX-6a7Q0lRbMoM_S7Pl9dhYyhC-Ui0vSttWaJn_m378ho0jZ2e4fvuorH5XJebDLj2YCGqlqo9DmPrCluFXDGu4tsV5tjU8eRv6X1meZGHEEpYCKD1wimvU7oTyua1Ig_nFU9q_0Oo/s320/IMG_1871.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">August 2009/ First Day of School</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsF_7goCSZRrTS9_6M0od0sun3FREIhh87YpjFYuUDlDEl2KdAeZFqibQzuEjN0KKGSlB31C6wfbzMwalcZwJePftYAHC-UlNhwHNiaDfkUl7eJ9tB4MJSrtlKUzd0Ktk7fIQTTJqY_t24/s1600/IMG_9230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsF_7goCSZRrTS9_6M0od0sun3FREIhh87YpjFYuUDlDEl2KdAeZFqibQzuEjN0KKGSlB31C6wfbzMwalcZwJePftYAHC-UlNhwHNiaDfkUl7eJ9tB4MJSrtlKUzd0Ktk7fIQTTJqY_t24/s320/IMG_9230.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Proud Graduate June/2011</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpoxwP_RiDQBR6sdWyNU_XSkObrQ0plpS4slIIkezswEnCXibA_C__BHvSIVGULcLoHZAp_bHmmqVcJNgikY_QXP8kUXu4xFB6TIQdnb2TlR6leYvU6ZkMIvrmFGd-uRBOE6S4_AXfZSVq/s1600/IMG_9218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpoxwP_RiDQBR6sdWyNU_XSkObrQ0plpS4slIIkezswEnCXibA_C__BHvSIVGULcLoHZAp_bHmmqVcJNgikY_QXP8kUXu4xFB6TIQdnb2TlR6leYvU6ZkMIvrmFGd-uRBOE6S4_AXfZSVq/s320/IMG_9218.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIcxVlxHrYNQbEWN4Pc2wQvN4wMY9H8L-n_P-Vo7Z9jMJxL4p0q4IwxXknqul4Bn5sRvZZpYmhIYSTdYWdLbv88bsZTHYeHR4Oeo-eGE6zgwa5VzPVjOICTxP-xycCE9MZ6FOQ9GnBICq/s1600/IMG_9224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOIcxVlxHrYNQbEWN4Pc2wQvN4wMY9H8L-n_P-Vo7Z9jMJxL4p0q4IwxXknqul4Bn5sRvZZpYmhIYSTdYWdLbv88bsZTHYeHR4Oeo-eGE6zgwa5VzPVjOICTxP-xycCE9MZ6FOQ9GnBICq/s320/IMG_9224.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7H8j6goVsj6JSmppytryjALvsOjCEYtnzu5gAsHFfKQyRAgKbUShfIaSjwORa3Bju38UsqHfBAj85CHFRb3lSuL2HsGfUcn6h8SNR4r-OoF3Xar-jfK3-clcvVLiuRBt5LtaEytwPU5Of/s1600/IMG_9229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7H8j6goVsj6JSmppytryjALvsOjCEYtnzu5gAsHFfKQyRAgKbUShfIaSjwORa3Bju38UsqHfBAj85CHFRb3lSuL2HsGfUcn6h8SNR4r-OoF3Xar-jfK3-clcvVLiuRBt5LtaEytwPU5Of/s320/IMG_9229.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Spencer and Mrs. Wanda</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOsjf2ZttoT_dbAEgNvcH0mmCbFs73BciqwdyPhti2p0x0WqHpNVJFBTIayv_YEE28kcNvwfdPjAyqGda7A2lS6AwEWNFsgYXIj53ZN7UrnsZaJMqVufyKopzz2F4nF8-O7PquE_HcNL05/s1600/IMG_9231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOsjf2ZttoT_dbAEgNvcH0mmCbFs73BciqwdyPhti2p0x0WqHpNVJFBTIayv_YEE28kcNvwfdPjAyqGda7A2lS6AwEWNFsgYXIj53ZN7UrnsZaJMqVufyKopzz2F4nF8-O7PquE_HcNL05/s320/IMG_9231.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hJmtjlJz1bGyTUN0yiJ8vGIXs9mnifchKv9CHg2k2sdtoRYQ2gsHf8Gw5JERf_ElQQloJRJZSPNGN9aYqOscQcPIDdJLoG7puCyqfZXxCEiv3iI1-F9GHhZTGeDGAzHbmLrPwOfn0Sex/s1600/IMG_9233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9hJmtjlJz1bGyTUN0yiJ8vGIXs9mnifchKv9CHg2k2sdtoRYQ2gsHf8Gw5JERf_ElQQloJRJZSPNGN9aYqOscQcPIDdJLoG7puCyqfZXxCEiv3iI1-F9GHhZTGeDGAzHbmLrPwOfn0Sex/s320/IMG_9233.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> I believe the next time I see him in a Cap and Gown will be 2024. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniheGeYMODuuvp2BN0r7VQ8oHNiMaeE-0pR0w_drnJkyopeUOgfcDVWhhEw1jylZxqWXqBOaCS9KzEbqOPbVSoSJHG7ytuRgcjfXD3x71l60aufLFHgqR-l0_fSQHz-bmkBtB5j2zdePN/s1600/IMG_9236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniheGeYMODuuvp2BN0r7VQ8oHNiMaeE-0pR0w_drnJkyopeUOgfcDVWhhEw1jylZxqWXqBOaCS9KzEbqOPbVSoSJHG7ytuRgcjfXD3x71l60aufLFHgqR-l0_fSQHz-bmkBtB5j2zdePN/s320/IMG_9236.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I LOVE YOU LITTLE MAN!!!</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-10502697987323936182011-06-24T14:44:00.000-07:002011-06-24T20:34:55.334-07:00A Name and a Blessing<div style="text-align: center;">In the LDS religion we believe in the power of the Priesthood, this is nothing new to the world... It was on Earth when Christ was here, and it was restored to the world many years ago. The power of the priesthood, is the power of God held on Earth by worthy men, who have been given the keys for such a privileged power. Priesthood holders are able to bless the sick and afflicted, through revelation from the Lord and with his will, they are able to place their hands upon a persons head and pronounce a blessing for that person through their faith to be healed. (Are you still with me?)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is something I believe very strongly, for I have seen and been part of miracles that have come to pass because of it. Things that are personal and I do not feel appropriate sharing at this time on this blog. But if you are ever curious about it, let me know and I will in person share it with you. We also believe in the blessing of a newborn child. That's when they are blessed and presented to the Lord with a name here on Earth.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dear Daughter,</div><div style="text-align: center;">You where blessed on June 12th, 2011 in the Deltona Ward, of the Deland Florida Stake. That was a special moment, for it has been my home ward since we moved to this country. In the circle stood Daddy, Grandpa Gaertner, Jared VanEnglelenhoven, Mathew Boyce, and William Kumbera. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmiAgBw4J67J9uCuPlzhy6Ofr_XkkgH-NrP-r8sdQn4rtixpKNa9U5WBRkBgdsMOp3MEDvxM51XXTikBrjslsnA86GdwH0I_QMtfgOXZIIK8TCIEa89jBp_vDQGOBBBMR_pnjyq_8fFHHj/s1600/IMG_9097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmiAgBw4J67J9uCuPlzhy6Ofr_XkkgH-NrP-r8sdQn4rtixpKNa9U5WBRkBgdsMOp3MEDvxM51XXTikBrjslsnA86GdwH0I_QMtfgOXZIIK8TCIEa89jBp_vDQGOBBBMR_pnjyq_8fFHHj/s320/IMG_9097.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You were presented to the Lord as Annabelle Louise Martos, Daddy was the one who pronounced that blessing. You did not cry, or make a sound of that matter. You looked beautiful in your 1st, pretty little white dress. Stephanie your sister wore that same dress, on her blessing day and I hope to someday show it to you when you are older.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Daughter, you were blessed to have an obedient soul, that you will recognize the Lord throughout your life. And when placed with oppositions you would heed to the prompting of the Spirit, and resist temptations. You were also blessed to be protected from any devastating diseases of the world, and if you obey the teaching of the gospel and follow the commandments, the Lord will be you constant companion. You are a special daughter of God, whom he loves and knows you personally. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I hope and pray that you will grow up to live those blessing to the fullest. I will do my very best to fulfill my calling as your mother on this earth. I pray that I will have the strength to follow the promptings of the Holly Ghost, and teach you in those soft important moments to love and know our Heavenly Father and His son Jesus Christ. He lives, He loves you, He listens and answers prayers. He knows the intentions of our hearts and He is there to pick us up where we come short. Learn to love and follow Him, and you will be blessed through your journey on this Earth, and one day return to live with him in Heaven.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I have loved you before I ever heard your little heart beating, I have prayed for your existence, I knew you were waiting to come to our family. And I love you now and will do so throughout eternity. Welcome to our little family. Never wonder for a single second if you are loved and wanted, and although I want to some day see you as a faithful daughter of God fulfilling your calling on this Earth, I can WAIT. Don't grow up too fast.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Love, MOM.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BrZL8llquwL-ZhOJzTGA5ofkHymW-SeT11D3zJeoBdwG7FWwz789tnLAfscttHrPdHrkdMZFaVUb1TGRvjZD3_JTPPk5xmLWnBl84tJrqNaFsNML4MzNbwmq_drCD4YFB96Pr_5mLxHy/s1600/IMG_9100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7BrZL8llquwL-ZhOJzTGA5ofkHymW-SeT11D3zJeoBdwG7FWwz789tnLAfscttHrPdHrkdMZFaVUb1TGRvjZD3_JTPPk5xmLWnBl84tJrqNaFsNML4MzNbwmq_drCD4YFB96Pr_5mLxHy/s320/IMG_9100.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grandpa Gaertner, Daddy, Grandpa Martos</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRw1LYu__lANlUNaMD0vQABFuWzjSIRcJ-x2ZKvarUAXZlHnidsXhs5dGbGrCHCzl0lbpfYmKYSmgnMn_a56YmI482ZHg89dakCC7sxQkjfbNaZ3QaKVfQLDT5NdX2x_5v6iGL2zoI-CC/s1600/IMG_9101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCRw1LYu__lANlUNaMD0vQABFuWzjSIRcJ-x2ZKvarUAXZlHnidsXhs5dGbGrCHCzl0lbpfYmKYSmgnMn_a56YmI482ZHg89dakCC7sxQkjfbNaZ3QaKVfQLDT5NdX2x_5v6iGL2zoI-CC/s320/IMG_9101.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Proud Grandparents</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_PH82pGu86OYO5R-RUYaGSRCKtzA609bDYhzZozlBg5iUl-OCS2f1BY4asZDbCl-GzxSnaayZfxmdw68Iyeq0Q-zQ-ZU0her8Z6FEv0tORllNwNS-JBt6RxqRhVYSOIGjIg4KkL-bxB6/s1600/IMG_9103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_PH82pGu86OYO5R-RUYaGSRCKtzA609bDYhzZozlBg5iUl-OCS2f1BY4asZDbCl-GzxSnaayZfxmdw68Iyeq0Q-zQ-ZU0her8Z6FEv0tORllNwNS-JBt6RxqRhVYSOIGjIg4KkL-bxB6/s320/IMG_9103.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJj8KJ5m_q9O-5ha2wblV1FLe-NTgK7dE9FgvNdOMmhis3WjAI_uPC4fQ53jYd1BPg_YcuJpMjGN_gdXCZt030hf6gUUfC6780K23RpGbZjBevDkKR5kjyuwdp8cOU8_B4huzysW9zolC/s1600/IMG_9122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJj8KJ5m_q9O-5ha2wblV1FLe-NTgK7dE9FgvNdOMmhis3WjAI_uPC4fQ53jYd1BPg_YcuJpMjGN_gdXCZt030hf6gUUfC6780K23RpGbZjBevDkKR5kjyuwdp8cOU8_B4huzysW9zolC/s320/IMG_9122.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Eternal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFhsCSyiK9D7WoG9KG6021P-QvHV75yPUaR-cFh0KQydeJds4peF68aQ8oA_F585_LW_FSKjf3MY-lqutDeNw1yKAcLWNqMNvU8K2D0LEUykyhIEW-CXhoZplktHhT30VWqz2Y78E0bTS/s1600/IMG_9124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFhsCSyiK9D7WoG9KG6021P-QvHV75yPUaR-cFh0KQydeJds4peF68aQ8oA_F585_LW_FSKjf3MY-lqutDeNw1yKAcLWNqMNvU8K2D0LEUykyhIEW-CXhoZplktHhT30VWqz2Y78E0bTS/s320/IMG_9124.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">3 Generation of Girls</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicHGt5uGg2I0sk-4KfOV4n6fnphKnfTCovsaZSeZH6dwwYj6jvSE4TrO2uT7wZdMsOJg9CrPLRCXBi88IzK7armRkvg9eh2JhMBYThgRWIL8BybvhshYOU6itR30c3afQZC3El1y2ODxG/s1600/IMG_9126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicHGt5uGg2I0sk-4KfOV4n6fnphKnfTCovsaZSeZH6dwwYj6jvSE4TrO2uT7wZdMsOJg9CrPLRCXBi88IzK7armRkvg9eh2JhMBYThgRWIL8BybvhshYOU6itR30c3afQZC3El1y2ODxG/s320/IMG_9126.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">3 Generations of Boys</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyfIqpoc18KFOMSRN_QwAttyhYo018n0AqnCE6nDsdxfJ5PPjdZ33PkJ0ZbZmAi8ZRhAh0Ea-g3HSqeyeffqlPUKfrHOM9ryCeJeahl9iOlG24qruixWX8K3sNOoURTKRiFR5PdHO2Qsv/s1600/IMG_9129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFyfIqpoc18KFOMSRN_QwAttyhYo018n0AqnCE6nDsdxfJ5PPjdZ33PkJ0ZbZmAi8ZRhAh0Ea-g3HSqeyeffqlPUKfrHOM9ryCeJeahl9iOlG24qruixWX8K3sNOoURTKRiFR5PdHO2Qsv/s320/IMG_9129.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Friendship can last a life time... (but boy we can multiply fast)</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhWBrawqbyptBAg2HQDk6NNDFTNOGWI87VpEln_zQJVVU0GscKxcrnRozLiRG43X6zxUFzjpOX3L9EZr84DoHOy9SICFrpTEQ99TgCuQoBNQKjz6W24Ws2leQb2HdCk0xbCxvc5bMRl0G/s1600/IMG_9131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyhWBrawqbyptBAg2HQDk6NNDFTNOGWI87VpEln_zQJVVU0GscKxcrnRozLiRG43X6zxUFzjpOX3L9EZr84DoHOy9SICFrpTEQ99TgCuQoBNQKjz6W24Ws2leQb2HdCk0xbCxvc5bMRl0G/s320/IMG_9131.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Proud Uncle</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLeqJHUGPGnZAUbLg4c-hlDpza5fWbVRTpza19S-l3_S5QH1yPHcIrstlilwh_wUxVksQdwIt2zzZunnB-1nzqc2tZNKgNIIKXSTw0ib_XhIXl7w53jhcthQeCAvjt1gIJ3lfIiKGRsWC/s1600/IMG_9134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizLeqJHUGPGnZAUbLg4c-hlDpza5fWbVRTpza19S-l3_S5QH1yPHcIrstlilwh_wUxVksQdwIt2zzZunnB-1nzqc2tZNKgNIIKXSTw0ib_XhIXl7w53jhcthQeCAvjt1gIJ3lfIiKGRsWC/s320/IMG_9134.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All the Girls</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLG_AZnD4X-ID_4Pl8fWp6mKr66n_yxAUo29Dau5BzvbMGYEtlHAMlsl58YngoJp40XUM0aa8t8cP9NstVP4pYfuEpN7tAvqVqmbqSPoZ3__ac6I9W0J72j6ca55feUSqlMF5gd6ZvRZol/s1600/IMG_9144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLG_AZnD4X-ID_4Pl8fWp6mKr66n_yxAUo29Dau5BzvbMGYEtlHAMlsl58YngoJp40XUM0aa8t8cP9NstVP4pYfuEpN7tAvqVqmbqSPoZ3__ac6I9W0J72j6ca55feUSqlMF5gd6ZvRZol/s320/IMG_9144.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sisters</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-74406329088033313542011-06-20T21:11:00.000-07:002011-06-20T22:45:35.007-07:00The day I almost went to Jail...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While we were in Florida for 3 weeks, we took a trip to the water park. Daytona Lagoon is a small water park but none the less, it was fun. Here are some pictures we took, I wish I had taken more, but I was too busy trying to get arrested.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7W0p8tptXb7a2r3rvKIpJ5QXpF8Ur9vdBT3tHrzUmIbPNVqB5dBZHUqyl9bYEM3xnqfLn6HlFFQoVOC5M6HRFs2KEEKBuKw1Dxvpkq6LfSNcUwNn0CGWMVRlN8iU_L-Z1E7lH5SUD5Gg-/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7W0p8tptXb7a2r3rvKIpJ5QXpF8Ur9vdBT3tHrzUmIbPNVqB5dBZHUqyl9bYEM3xnqfLn6HlFFQoVOC5M6HRFs2KEEKBuKw1Dxvpkq6LfSNcUwNn0CGWMVRlN8iU_L-Z1E7lH5SUD5Gg-/s320/006.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZco5Q2Mr3AlPKnRyCFpdj7JqFms5tVc4wDD7rwNycMkpKmA94c3mSxW1aBC2DqtTLZ9KvJFY6z7iM_3IE74HMmpxXa0UCwSF6DIfdbk-jVFgYxs7AjbZQMySjXfjOgcczifMiBIz06Xt/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJZco5Q2Mr3AlPKnRyCFpdj7JqFms5tVc4wDD7rwNycMkpKmA94c3mSxW1aBC2DqtTLZ9KvJFY6z7iM_3IE74HMmpxXa0UCwSF6DIfdbk-jVFgYxs7AjbZQMySjXfjOgcczifMiBIz06Xt/s320/007.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbKN_sVwOuIsvRTyWDigqwfIVhn4XkTYOkm2h2_En96g6YaGzwceKqk9i3pj0NGywbOy8VYaLj6BNwgMCH3KftV6TLETxxcxfQAxE3-7ofetHC0-yLA_SFOktnCz5V8PEwORF06W1MUnm/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbKN_sVwOuIsvRTyWDigqwfIVhn4XkTYOkm2h2_En96g6YaGzwceKqk9i3pj0NGywbOy8VYaLj6BNwgMCH3KftV6TLETxxcxfQAxE3-7ofetHC0-yLA_SFOktnCz5V8PEwORF06W1MUnm/s320/010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8R4iN3K_cQspg2ZzP0PejFJKSTMBuAFcFezoJuB9nbD8Rd21hkNP53QFfM5i3cupXPr7AeY2K5zQ2szQEi7fGDBIlS1KMGP2jBXqS08YHCZSVVjqMW5GeTJWShDH3bmxLo8JvVV4Mo-nO/s1600/011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8R4iN3K_cQspg2ZzP0PejFJKSTMBuAFcFezoJuB9nbD8Rd21hkNP53QFfM5i3cupXPr7AeY2K5zQ2szQEi7fGDBIlS1KMGP2jBXqS08YHCZSVVjqMW5GeTJWShDH3bmxLo8JvVV4Mo-nO/s320/011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kM2M5GlYNjRVZlHyxSYrEaeuH2DgsXPDFk3L8q2tSAk2fGzJx4g5MnUYrNsvYNnNGLkbNWmBKR4_S5Lukw6Nm944xfvVO9ZzorW4whopH1arcyrECOskM5sBlpup9r7JB_7puyEUo7G0/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kM2M5GlYNjRVZlHyxSYrEaeuH2DgsXPDFk3L8q2tSAk2fGzJx4g5MnUYrNsvYNnNGLkbNWmBKR4_S5Lukw6Nm944xfvVO9ZzorW4whopH1arcyrECOskM5sBlpup9r7JB_7puyEUo7G0/s320/013.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Look at this little face, and you will understand why I turned into an angry mamma bear.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecipH6BG8nsqiTjDL3-lA6bjym7y6veyhs-IFwddzkmGdMERQoNdp70UuNhOaZg2uRk8W2djOAP0Fts3Lu86E1SJ5709dKC7Z59D1k8IrAm1_jH1YGBkWj5TKsFjzgxDdLGKGyUxIzaMP/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecipH6BG8nsqiTjDL3-lA6bjym7y6veyhs-IFwddzkmGdMERQoNdp70UuNhOaZg2uRk8W2djOAP0Fts3Lu86E1SJ5709dKC7Z59D1k8IrAm1_jH1YGBkWj5TKsFjzgxDdLGKGyUxIzaMP/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We went on a Wednesday after 4 because it was family day and it was only 9 buck a person. We packed our junk and went. Arriving there just after 4 pm, we set up camp on the shade, under a bridge looking thing, in front of the kids play area. We were there with some friends, Diane and Matt Boyce and their boys. We played for a while and got hungry, well Annabelle was hungry. So I sat on one of those lounging chairs and started nursing my baby, (NO! That's not why I almost went to jail. I was covered.) Behind the chair I was sitting, there was a lazy river.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaG2M5HtgrTpwq5qI7BbDu0DSBvupsvjXcAvP6m724zozst_X8jDlhbTOXsIZM5Zth4IUlJLzxVfHeOkvG2eopWV4eV-PlXJhZeQGrU1hwZL0R4E1ahbGJiLbR7alBcHSQQYNBLDpG5TZY/s1600/594d885c59dd8951b5e26c29fe7374a0002121f9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaG2M5HtgrTpwq5qI7BbDu0DSBvupsvjXcAvP6m724zozst_X8jDlhbTOXsIZM5Zth4IUlJLzxVfHeOkvG2eopWV4eV-PlXJhZeQGrU1hwZL0R4E1ahbGJiLbR7alBcHSQQYNBLDpG5TZY/s400/594d885c59dd8951b5e26c29fe7374a0002121f9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So while sitting there in peace talking to Diane, this group of teen passed by splashing, and screaming, and soaking EVERYTHING. I tried to tell them to STOP, but knowing they would not hear me... I whistled! And if you know me... I can whistle pretty loud. The kids thought I was a life guard, and emediatly stopped. Someone must have told them it was just me, and not the guard, because the next time they came by they did it again, This time however.. worst, and they did not listen to us screaming at them to stop. By now everyone was there, my mom, and Matt, and my sister and so on. They soaked my baby, and the pizza Matt got for dinner. I was pretty sure they did it on purpose, and I was ready to deal with it, if it happened again. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">SOOO... Do you see where I am going with this? NOPE!!! you think you know, but let me tell you how went down. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We were all watching for them to come again, and sure enough 5 minutes later.... Here comes the same little group, this time even louder and splashing even more water. So Matt stood up like this...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRrCwJZ2vIfpo0F0RbM92geb5fidN52cVob8ksiwdEfVsI7ThWD" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRrCwJZ2vIfpo0F0RbM92geb5fidN52cVob8ksiwdEfVsI7ThWD" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> and started telling them to stop and screaming at them to keep the water in the water.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The little 17 year old punk jumps out of the water and stood up and opened his arms kind of like this.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS8zPGRFkd2W2e-pSK9cv7ZOCo1rPvy_IfkX-FcfwPAeq7KdeYM" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS8zPGRFkd2W2e-pSK9cv7ZOCo1rPvy_IfkX-FcfwPAeq7KdeYM" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He shouts at Matt, "<i>What Dude, wanna piece of this, hum?? C'mon c'mon! </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Matt replies by challenging him out of the water. He then turns towards the exit of the lazy river and starts to come out. He looks back at his <i>(close fist, double pounds on the chest, piece sign) </i>BROS, to make sure they are all coming too. And when he sees they are all behind him, he is filled with courage knowing they got his back. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mind you, I am still screaming things that should not come out of my mouth, and my mom... Who knows what she is saying, and what language she is using to let that guy have a piece of her mind. It was a mixture of Portuguenglish.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And Matt??!! Well, He was just staring the guy down, like this...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.houseofpain3.com/wlsnews/images/Kennelly_Mendelson_Stare_Down.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="http://www.houseofpain3.com/wlsnews/images/Kennelly_Mendelson_Stare_Down.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> (which if I may say... Matt is very good at, he stares at you for no reason at all, give him a reason and you got your self a competition ) <i>Jk Matt... you know I love ya! </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anyways... I am not sure if they were saying anything, because I was still too busy screaming, and making sure my child became deaf. After what felt like 5 minutes of stare down, I HAD IT. I stood up and went to take care of busyness. I brought my 6 weeks old along with me to show the little punk why,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I in particular was so mad. Matt was just mad he had a soaky dinner, but me... NO!!!!! This was my baby you were soaking mister.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After showing him the baby... His reply to me was... <i>"Yo! what'you expect? this is a WA-TER-PARK. if ya'll wanna stay dry go-to-the-dry area." </i><b>(HUM... Moron... this was a dry area until you soaked it.!)</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>"Take your baby to the dry area this is a water park and we can play with the water however we want." </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So after what felt like another waisted 5 minutes, of who should be where with this little disrespectful, big mouth little boy who obviously had never been put in place by his own parents. I leaned forward and back slapped the little punk like this. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OiesPFQ_37yck7Mub-IHjVyuLTJm1MjnMFan6Qmd5HCOWQpm0_WgwSPAi-5tIAslO76qmV7fQn2I-aUiOy0orB98W30dmzY2iJO7AGFyGvVKeIVlxEM7pQYOh2IYGyiX2A2aMxzqc6gU/s1600/SuperStock_1828R-8677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OiesPFQ_37yck7Mub-IHjVyuLTJm1MjnMFan6Qmd5HCOWQpm0_WgwSPAi-5tIAslO76qmV7fQn2I-aUiOy0orB98W30dmzY2iJO7AGFyGvVKeIVlxEM7pQYOh2IYGyiX2A2aMxzqc6gU/s320/SuperStock_1828R-8677.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>I know you're impressed with my editing skills. HUM??</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well I tried to slap him, I wanted to get his face in full. But he jumped back in surprise, and I barely got his forehead. Upon which he yelled...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>"Lady... you just got yourself an assault charge. what's your full name?!"</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Hummm??!! Yeah let me just go write that down for you real quick, would you like a number and address too? </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">By now I had put the baby down and came back, and he was still asking me for my full name. And of course, I was still trying to remember. After we had the entire High School Cheer Leader squad come by to see what was going on and to testify about me "full blasting" the kid (I only hoped that to was true). Life guards came to separate the fight, and after asking me what happened. The kids were thrown out of the park. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I cannot forget to mention, that my mom started taking pictures of everything, "just in case". (she has been watching to much Judge Judy). But when she went to take a picture of the kid, and how crazy he was, STILL trying to get my full name. <b>Poor guy... My memory was really bad that day.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">He went bananas and wanted to beat my mom up for snapping pictures of him, and although she looked silly doing it, it was worth seeing how mad he got. The whole thing was kind of embarrassing, I may have lost friends because of it, but now it's just funny. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's no news to those who know me, that I have short fuses. But I had hoped I would be able to control my self if it came down to beating an unknown person. But my conclusion is... </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
DON'T MESS WITH MY CUBS.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://pixdaus.com/pics/1234917823aFuUb2f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://pixdaus.com/pics/1234917823aFuUb2f.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">For these babies I am capable of anything...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27LxB9EUzUswQvGZmNrtY7U0qtzs3Uu8kjvAg0LA8igvgSxuXqqSeobpUzBquRf66fynafgdeq4weMjoB0IAwbH6lII8EGHwXP6eIsTBqgw-eqvhtVUeDaHKP4Q5XxGGxxKnG-0e4ww7E/s1600/IMG_8962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27LxB9EUzUswQvGZmNrtY7U0qtzs3Uu8kjvAg0LA8igvgSxuXqqSeobpUzBquRf66fynafgdeq4weMjoB0IAwbH6lII8EGHwXP6eIsTBqgw-eqvhtVUeDaHKP4Q5XxGGxxKnG-0e4ww7E/s320/IMG_8962.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-16946021137017111192011-06-02T15:03:00.000-07:002011-06-02T15:03:58.359-07:00Ungrateful children<div style="text-align: center;">So... Many of you know that I have a 10 year old brother, and a 5 year old son. And although in the future some day I believe they will become great friends, right now they are incredibly mean and annoying when they are together. Making the visits to Florida during the summer when school is out very hard. So the solution, keep them as busy as we can away from each other. Andrew (my brother) goes to his friends house ALL day, and Spencer stays at the house playing with all the things he is not allowed to when Andrew is around. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Like little complicated Lego sculptures, and "playing" the WII and Game Boy"erasing very important and hard levels that took months to get to". (<i>*10 year old stumping out of the house, while crying like a baby)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">The other day I felt bad for the kids, they had spent all day in the house and I wanted to do something nice. So I decided to take them to the park, and is there a better way to get kids tired then to walk 2 miles each way to the park? At 4 p.m. in Florida on 93 degrees weather? NOTHING I tell ya! So I put the kids in my "new to me" double stroller and off we went, I was feeling like the greatest mom...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UhKLQqoPBdnC4yBtWbYqc7AMfKaRNWD2GbsBI4XJqICe0q4nPxGslIHtP2XYgs6BlfBSx_7WtWshkt-ZQ0GgkVyUzSHoUtcoh6s9k-9Wr53LP_Fmy9hfIbY2fTFMq95guQrTbl1zHXe_/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UhKLQqoPBdnC4yBtWbYqc7AMfKaRNWD2GbsBI4XJqICe0q4nPxGslIHtP2XYgs6BlfBSx_7WtWshkt-ZQ0GgkVyUzSHoUtcoh6s9k-9Wr53LP_Fmy9hfIbY2fTFMq95guQrTbl1zHXe_/s320/015.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We got to the park dehydrated and smelling like Shrek, thank goodness I brought some water. I sat on the shade and watched the kids play in the play ground from afar. We picked shells, and ran, and played. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I played with a very chubby little girl. My little 6 pound baby is now over 10 pounds. <i>Sniff Sniff</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sW55ZQozJDgfZ8qaj4I2fpd7JcKnKfqqHgmv83YETa3KSYyICJWAGD_fVXg1zHnVdX3KrGEo_fC6D7_RMMRn23dTEo-vo0vHnI09zRREt9ITy0xfQwNiRL2HfioJJG4Syzoc4av1MLwm/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2sW55ZQozJDgfZ8qaj4I2fpd7JcKnKfqqHgmv83YETa3KSYyICJWAGD_fVXg1zHnVdX3KrGEo_fC6D7_RMMRn23dTEo-vo0vHnI09zRREt9ITy0xfQwNiRL2HfioJJG4Syzoc4av1MLwm/s320/004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5oiv1aqi3_ifBiKFzOMvdDNZHNI2H_KNEhoUW1hKUCns5wsz6W-8iNpxMnEWFmc_h2g_XbzPb4idNphplTX32HnCjR8IlY5QD_iSPe7QNbnM8UvbuHp35duwil-t0614oe3SocN7_gya/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5oiv1aqi3_ifBiKFzOMvdDNZHNI2H_KNEhoUW1hKUCns5wsz6W-8iNpxMnEWFmc_h2g_XbzPb4idNphplTX32HnCjR8IlY5QD_iSPe7QNbnM8UvbuHp35duwil-t0614oe3SocN7_gya/s320/006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Apparently I was taking too many pictures.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgooFBxhsjyJQxUZ_TlR19aIsRiIu2VQ4j_zdai8ICfkkKU-zbnKTPr5tiADBTr-6VU-63sAvgTio_Gnf6WdKNr1btDSjv6C3qem304KtANaVY9EUf-BtEznN477VE_1kBMmKm95WF3RNlY/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgooFBxhsjyJQxUZ_TlR19aIsRiIu2VQ4j_zdai8ICfkkKU-zbnKTPr5tiADBTr-6VU-63sAvgTio_Gnf6WdKNr1btDSjv6C3qem304KtANaVY9EUf-BtEznN477VE_1kBMmKm95WF3RNlY/s320/013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After we played, and had tons of fun it was time to walk home. It was also time for Mr. Grouch to complain, my son complains about EVERYTHING. So it went something like this. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>"Mommy?!"</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Yes Spencer?</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>I don't like that park, actually... I hate it and never want to go back to that one again.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>You din't have fun in the play ground? </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Nope!!! It was too small and too far, and kind of boring. I only like the one that Vovo (grandpa) plays tennis at. So take me to that one next time. </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">By now I am again dehydrated and ticked cause I went out of my way to be nice and this is what I get?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Well, Spencer, there wont be a next time... You can spend all day locked in the house for all i care.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ungrateful kids. When do they learn to appreciate their parents efforts? I have a felling it will be a long time before I hear a THANK YOU that I don't have to say "<i>Now what do you say"</i> first.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-65970051030624666082011-05-30T17:36:00.000-07:002011-05-30T17:36:26.357-07:00Motherhood is a funny thing...<div style="text-align: center;">A while back right after the baby was born, with in one week actually. Stephanie decided that she was done with the whole diapers during the day thing. Maybe seeing that the baby wears diapers she no longer wanted to be a "baby". Who knows why she did it, but the good thing is that she did. Over night... One day she had diapers the next it was gone forever. With very minor accidents, she even made the 12 hour trip to FL with no accidents. I am so proud of her, especially after many hours of trying during my pregnancy to get her out of them, I had given up for at least 6 months. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Since baby Belle's been home Stephanie has really taken to the idea of playing dolls, She is such a good little mommy. She does things I don't even know if I could, diapering 3 babies at once for instance. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-48ipcdOkOi6RQz0wBTdzWB87IJHqgLRG8-lVyJrIKyDfLyrCcZ-jJ5uUC-iEEU3_poojKZDPqwyobCuZCaixwf-RxbS14YEGKiqL5QMIUn83RPg80qp1fjsecraTMo85FBg36ufPAwlh/s1600/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-48ipcdOkOi6RQz0wBTdzWB87IJHqgLRG8-lVyJrIKyDfLyrCcZ-jJ5uUC-iEEU3_poojKZDPqwyobCuZCaixwf-RxbS14YEGKiqL5QMIUn83RPg80qp1fjsecraTMo85FBg36ufPAwlh/s320/057.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The rule at our house is, if you don't take a nap during the day. You will go to bed early.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So the other day, both of the older kids were really bad and did not take a nap. Leaving me no choice but to put them to bed at 7 p.m. After bath and milk and the whole ordeal, they were in bed and warned to not get out of that room. Seeing that they took me seriously and were very quiet I relaxed and watched TV for 2 hours. It was American Idol finale ok... So stop judging me. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When I got back to the room ready to go to sleep, I found Stephanie AWAKE playing with some things and eating tooth paste.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdlR2dw0gxb50UY1s_dJ9HEvWInIvssbM4ayRHi2MaPYKFPyNJxqMlk3Pw7NzQplDzgCOwVxnzmsVfhitPd9kR-R7IdOJFTLSkjfTsSZvbfxVItQu62KuO-NjN9MwGTGcDc9hf1tsQ19z/s1600/088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdlR2dw0gxb50UY1s_dJ9HEvWInIvssbM4ayRHi2MaPYKFPyNJxqMlk3Pw7NzQplDzgCOwVxnzmsVfhitPd9kR-R7IdOJFTLSkjfTsSZvbfxVItQu62KuO-NjN9MwGTGcDc9hf1tsQ19z/s320/088.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikpfamIKI6vhO6ZlrmZ-jxUBiSBDo-pUgm_4lFTQQYv1w0ChPMwHVLcWqRH2zkYJba5W85aPnR3yAEKD_MM7xBCMAchGQRvCK7ARfMCIBlRE68gzuVV0lwvmn2iPAVRDUJECxoMdPKzw5/s1600/089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikpfamIKI6vhO6ZlrmZ-jxUBiSBDo-pUgm_4lFTQQYv1w0ChPMwHVLcWqRH2zkYJba5W85aPnR3yAEKD_MM7xBCMAchGQRvCK7ARfMCIBlRE68gzuVV0lwvmn2iPAVRDUJECxoMdPKzw5/s320/089.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Who knew a Diaper bag could be so interesting??</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After the initial desire of killing the kid, (she is lucky she ran to grandpa), I began to clean the mess.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When I came across a bottle of MYLICON (infant gas relief drops) Open and half GONE.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh great, what's the number for poison control? 1800 222 something 222? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I knew I should have listened to the Dr. Anyways no big deal, I mean... She was only covered with a facial rash. But was now sleeping peacefully, and who am I to interfere with that? I have the other one to keep me awake all night, don't need 2, thanks....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is what I found out, the next day, while at the pool. It relieves MORE than gas. Major D blow out. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nasty, it was grainy too, so I am not sure if her tooth paste/Mylicon mix had a shot of Butt paste also.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well we had lots of fun this week, and my baby has grown so much. Today she smiled at me, YES!!! I was the first one. And we went to the beach, Spencer almost drowned, thank goodness grandpa was fast and caught him, Stephanie almost got ran over by a car when she took off to the road, thank goodness she has a fast auntie also. So you ask... Where was the mother of these kids??? Well where else? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was laying on the sun, getting fried. Cause Lobster is the new look you know? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkhyphenhyphenSoALL6Z0ucLf2s-zIJsm6yviIYVdCehSgWBuyNRudFNRYReXv9gVYwIKdIpwnZJJDemJZDtpwtDgRME-1E4pNmrIAP0PffAaO2c_wCgwGgp9oY8i-QQ40Obo1QVajW92kTx0TjNrXc/s1600/092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkhyphenhyphenSoALL6Z0ucLf2s-zIJsm6yviIYVdCehSgWBuyNRudFNRYReXv9gVYwIKdIpwnZJJDemJZDtpwtDgRME-1E4pNmrIAP0PffAaO2c_wCgwGgp9oY8i-QQ40Obo1QVajW92kTx0TjNrXc/s320/092.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"> This ugly little bathing suit, was given to her by my mom. Just because we live in TN does not mean we dress in camo. But whatever, there were many other people there who should have taken a better look at their suits. JUST SAYING.</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-39579396326245693572011-05-21T11:32:00.000-07:002011-05-21T11:32:52.574-07:00ONE whole month.<div style="text-align: center;">Wow... can you believe she is a whole month already, The weeks go by so much faster when they are on the outside. My littlest girl is 9 lbs and 6 oz as of yesterday. SNIFF SNIFF.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where is time flying to? Tomorrow is a big day for Lil miss Belle. She is going to meet her grandpa for the first time. Grandma and Grandpa are flying up to bring us down. My hunny had to go out of town for work and will be gone for 2 weeks, I have been by my self for the past 3 days. I would have packed and left already, but my wonderful parents got some tickets and are coming to help me drive down. I can't wait for Warm weather, Beach, Family, Pool, Friends, and some help with the lil munch kins.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sunshine State here we come. Yiiiippppeeeee. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-88473854364935324722011-05-19T08:04:00.000-07:002011-05-19T08:12:42.302-07:003 of them 1 of me<div style="text-align: center;"><b><i>"You will pursue many avenues in this mortal journey, but none as important as being a mother." </i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">That is a quote taken from a special blessing given to me when I was 16, and if you are and LDS you know what I am talking about. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I knew from the time I was a little girl I wanted to be a mother, have many kids. I would have great husband. The check list went something like this.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">1. Tall</div><div style="text-align: center;">2. Good Teeth</div><div style="text-align: center;">3. Returned LDS missionary</div><div style="text-align: center;">4. Eagle Scout</div><div style="text-align: center;">5. Handsome</div><div style="text-align: center;">6. Blond</div><div style="text-align: center;">7. Blue or Green eyes</div><div style="text-align: center;">8. Sensitive</div><div style="text-align: center;">9. Smart</div><div style="text-align: center;">10. Handsome </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(yeah I know Handsome was on there twice, I wanted to make a point)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">I got 8 out of 10, </div><div style="text-align: center;">I will let you guess which 2 I compromised on. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOfDceKN_pn_DDh1YUTyrL126yRtx9VzjRMXXzcgAOMohN2GCVEIZ_QzP6hozgz3iu_y_wYObTJnPa6csg1wfOdd26vfKnkBzAqO68F63bnA7BR-79gJjVsj0Ytw7iUzIbkfa030H4PN6/s1600/216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZOfDceKN_pn_DDh1YUTyrL126yRtx9VzjRMXXzcgAOMohN2GCVEIZ_QzP6hozgz3iu_y_wYObTJnPa6csg1wfOdd26vfKnkBzAqO68F63bnA7BR-79gJjVsj0Ytw7iUzIbkfa030H4PN6/s400/216.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He is lucky he is handsome, cause at the time I thought that blond kids with blues eyes would make the cutest babies. However now, I realize that my babies are beautiful just the way they are. And people don't look at me and wonder where the heck did that one come from. C'mon they are carbon copies of us. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Anyways, let me get to may point will you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While I was pregnant with Annabelle, I had people tell me...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"It's no big deal, 3 is no different than 2."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I also had people tell me...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Poor Vanessa, 3 will throw her for a loop"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And so I wondered who was right. When Spencer was born, it was hard and easy... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hard because we were learning together, I was learning how to be a mother, and what was acceptable and what to do when certain things happened. We are still learning as he gets older. And it was easy because there was only one he had my undivided attention 24/7.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When Stephanie was born, It was Cake, I knew how to do everything, and how to get her in a routine, and life was great. We carried on as if nothing major had happened. We got to church and fulfilled our callings with a great ease.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Annabelle came along, and It's all a blur to me. Stephanie was no longer my Stephanie, jealousy is and evil guest at our house. Annabelle does not work with my routines. She makes her own. She is a great baby, with a mind of her own. Spencer is in a completely different stage of life, He is a little boy now, Soccer practices and kindergarten right around the corner. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">OF COURSE I CAN DO IT. NO DOUBT ABOUT THAT.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's just taking me a little while. The other day, Spencer stayed home from preschool, he only goes 2 days a week. So those days are sacred to me, he stayed home with a fever, sore throat and a head ache. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stephanie busted her chin open on the table AGAIN. And I nursed my starving baby every 2 hours for an hour. It was a crazy day, it was not until the end of the day, when I noticed my milk supply was low, that I realized I hadn't eaten all day. Or showered for that matter. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well, it's times like these that I have to think back, and tell myself. Nothing I will do in this life is more important than being a mother. </div><div style="text-align: center;">So even though there are 3 of them and only 1 of me, the Lord is on my side, and "all things are possible through Christ"<br />
<br />
DISCLAIMER: I would give up the blue eyes and blond hair, for the husband I got any second of the day as many times as it would take. He is much more than I could have asked for. so really I didn't compromised in anything.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-14502718217117356892011-05-13T14:49:00.000-07:002011-05-13T14:49:00.862-07:00A sprinkle of summer.<div style="text-align: center;">Man!!! It's May, the MIDDLE of May... And we have been sick and tired of Snow, and Rain. And I am only in TN I cannot even imagine you folks up North. This winter was rough. </div><div style="text-align: center;">We are so ready for summer, and I am sure by august we will be sick and tired of summer. But for now... we are enjoying the warm weather, and everything good that comes with it. But the wasps... those can go away, for all I care. They are useless, Seriously... someone give me ONE good reason why we have wasps in the world?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well for mothers day, my wonderful hubby gave me a morning off from all 3 kids. He stayed home yesterday and took care of the little army, and I went to get a SPA pedicure and manicure. AMAZING. And when I got home he even attempted cleaning a little. I say attempted, because cleaning the house with little ones around is like shoveling the drive way while it's still snowing. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well it was a nice day, and we headed outside to play in the water.<br />
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This Is Stephanie my 1st little princess. As I was outside trying to take pictures of the baby, I made the mistake of calling Annabelle my little princess. I got and evil little look from Stephanie, and a stern reply...<br />
"mommy, I PRINCESS" Well Excuse me??!!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Princess #2, and when she went for her 2 weeks check up on May 10th, she weighed 8lbs 3 oz, and was 21 inches long. Wow.. I guess Mommies milk is like miracle grow. </div><br />
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They had fun, I got to lay around snuggling a sweet smelling baby, and the house... well that is still a mess.</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-72465011833739749502011-05-08T20:48:00.000-07:002011-05-08T20:48:24.015-07:00Evil Stickers...<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="header" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><h2 class="me" style="color: black; display: inline; font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">stick·er: </h2><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="prondelim" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">[</span><span class="pron" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="boldface" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: 700; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">stik</span>-er</span><span class="prondelim" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">]</span> </div></div><div class="body" style="margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="pbk" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px;"><div style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; text-align: justify;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">–noun</span></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: block; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="dnindex" style="color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">1.</span></span></span></div><div class="dndata" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">person</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">thing</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">that</span> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/stick" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: underline;">sticks</a><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">.</span></span></div></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: block; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="dnindex" style="color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">2.</span></span></span></div><div class="dndata" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">an</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">adhesive</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">label.</span></span></div></div></div><div class="luna-Ent" style="background-color: white; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="dnindex" style="color: #7b7b7b; display: block; float: left; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify; width: 28px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">3.</span></span></span></div><div class="dndata" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="labset" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="ital-inline" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;">Informal</span> </span></span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="labset" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="ital-inline" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><br />
</span></span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="labset" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="ital-inline" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><br />
</span></span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 1.25em;">They usually come in a cartoon </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">character</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 1.25em;">, they are cute, and oh you think harmless?!</span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 1.25em;">So you buy them for your children and think it will keep them entertained for a while. and really how bad can they be? </span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 1.25em;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Well... It will keep them entertained, and this is what they will be doing!</span></span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"></div></div></div></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Isn't she cute?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="body" style="margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="pbk" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px;"><div class="luna-Ent" style="background-color: white; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"><b><br />
</b></span></span> </span></div></div><div class="dndata" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 37px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><span id="goog_1493748248"></span><span id="goog_1493748249"></span></span></span></div></div></div></div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-28556792250405804482011-05-04T12:20:00.000-07:002011-05-04T12:30:57.647-07:00A Birth Story...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As you know I had my baby almost 2 weeks ago, April 21st, 2011 was a great day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is me and my last pregnancy picture at 36 weeks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVb4HSRneHkYZlkP1sxAEWMNKgskiE2oBAPz1Kss7X-D31r7bUa1a0hriT2RaMHYZru_bkqNd8mseFcf0iOINGqw6bO-SPQbT9cvgUKR4FlzqiWGuNbQGOFR8edmOtdBY9z7Moqnii2hyphenhyphen/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPVb4HSRneHkYZlkP1sxAEWMNKgskiE2oBAPz1Kss7X-D31r7bUa1a0hriT2RaMHYZru_bkqNd8mseFcf0iOINGqw6bO-SPQbT9cvgUKR4FlzqiWGuNbQGOFR8edmOtdBY9z7Moqnii2hyphenhyphen/s320/010.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I had a Dr.'s appointment on the 20th, I went in hoping to have big changes and that he would tell me to go straight to the hospital. YEAH!!! right.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Instead I was told I was 1cm, (1cm??!! ARE YOU FLIPPIN KIDDING ME??) All that walking for 1cm?? He told me that he was going to schedule me to be induced on the 1st of May. I told him I had been having contractions for the past 3 nights but that when I got up to get ready to go to hospital they spread out and went away by morning. But I was tired of NOT sleeping. He than told me if I went in with contractions that could be picked up by the monitors that he would not send me home. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Alright Doc. if contractions is what you want... I can produce contractions... I told my husband we would be having a baby the next day. So he went to work and tried to finish as much as he could, HE knew I meant it. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I went home and cleaned the whole house, finished packing for me and kids, got myself ready, and made child care arrangements. Oh... Let's not forget... I stopped by Walgreens and picked up a friendly blue bottle called Castor Oil, and some orange juice. I wanted to make sure these contractions were not going away.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Got home had my delivery potion, which by the way is not as nasty as I thought. The after taste is horrible, but not enough to make me sick. Well after a whole day of running errands and to the bathroom, I had contractions. Every 5 minutes. We dropped the kids off, and went grocery shopping, and watched American Idol, and off to the hospital we went. I still had the contraction, and they put me in the machines. It was now around 11 pm and I was having contractions every 3 minutes, and I was a woppin 3 cm.<br />
It was like that until about 4 in the morning, when my doctor came in and broke my water. I was still at 3cm, and my contractions stopped. I was given pitocin, (the drug from down under) and labor went on it's way. Got my Epidural, and life was good. My doctor checked me again at 8 am and I was at 5cm. He told me this was going to be an afternoon baby and that he would come check me at lunch time. Fine by me, I was high on Epidural, and floating on clouds. (Some one should find a way to bottle that stuff. I think every mother should have a bottle handy, for themselves or for the kids in time of need).<br />
Anyways, I began to feel a lot more pressure around 8:30 am. Convinced my Epidural had been disconnected I told my hunny to check it. The nurse than decided to check me again, I was an 8. My afternoon baby just became a morning baby. At 9:15 am I was ready to push. The Dr. rushed into the room, I was told to push. Panic took over they told me NOT to push, and they looked like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. I was laughing at the situation, when I was told not to laugh. Oh this was serious... after the doctor had gloves on, and his apron. I pushed and out she came at 9:35 am. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Easy Peasy... I guess walking does make labor easy, almost not even fair to call it labor.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUah02Mafyqi8EF1YQdiG7CHlLIEOK8u1IWRQl-24uQZUhoMO2hv-ghEsaj4Zv2qfna3n4JXXKw3m9YZDuworuDfG8qK0EV_XSHJltlga4M0j1zOERx3uEDN4_V42ajFgHGEN3TOkoUlP/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUah02Mafyqi8EF1YQdiG7CHlLIEOK8u1IWRQl-24uQZUhoMO2hv-ghEsaj4Zv2qfna3n4JXXKw3m9YZDuworuDfG8qK0EV_XSHJltlga4M0j1zOERx3uEDN4_V42ajFgHGEN3TOkoUlP/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Due to my super sneaky veins, 3 different people pocked me 4 different times in order for the IV to go in... Causing a whole lot of bruising.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_b1Y-uo5kHj8jvBglOK7nBhQ04poRWKc2IcWqTti0JrbdGELUbhH9t_XOtVwJ0GeRixyJoEPK3CetkyHU2XeSHWyZJWhBElvQxowq2IUWbr2Ez-Aus7fPvqjKOWpg6-74KvX_k_qsNJp0/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_b1Y-uo5kHj8jvBglOK7nBhQ04poRWKc2IcWqTti0JrbdGELUbhH9t_XOtVwJ0GeRixyJoEPK3CetkyHU2XeSHWyZJWhBElvQxowq2IUWbr2Ez-Aus7fPvqjKOWpg6-74KvX_k_qsNJp0/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is my amazing Nurse... I loved the treatment I received. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ3yX8_RKO5f-VwEu9EnJyEe6nFygNe_Gm2c2LCZxy-1G-i9Ww50MW-RTzch4Czo5jL4aimKTGY1dKlU6UnjXcUhJGQETTcEx4qHSS3eAzSWtfFBv9SQsBmZBQ9bqkiVoIFZSskqNxmPa/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ3yX8_RKO5f-VwEu9EnJyEe6nFygNe_Gm2c2LCZxy-1G-i9Ww50MW-RTzch4Czo5jL4aimKTGY1dKlU6UnjXcUhJGQETTcEx4qHSS3eAzSWtfFBv9SQsBmZBQ9bqkiVoIFZSskqNxmPa/s320/021.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After a whole night of fluids being pumped in my body. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKtcSh5L_iXy-JtH93UKocFCUhIpTdNkLUjg9ialm7OjO2lTNQVzVL_O-6b3EnSmprpVSPLjcCZDCvh3L8EstuY385RmPsDnRIh0N2nk3MtHGj2No81GQnoc5Fbd9HPSBLyPaCS3MmBym/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKtcSh5L_iXy-JtH93UKocFCUhIpTdNkLUjg9ialm7OjO2lTNQVzVL_O-6b3EnSmprpVSPLjcCZDCvh3L8EstuY385RmPsDnRIh0N2nk3MtHGj2No81GQnoc5Fbd9HPSBLyPaCS3MmBym/s320/032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My little angel is finally here, how we waited for this moment.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TWytEP9Dx-_Sb2t6MoBdsDtLb4hLDw6US2r8bWu99N2DMwL7V6f0up3MeJumwsUH7h2a0PBGObhG5avwLuSJG2MUocb31Dqe_NoTBmu6Ph21Zqh_DYGaMROSLbeGzPJFatZnBEfbZ0NU/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6TWytEP9Dx-_Sb2t6MoBdsDtLb4hLDw6US2r8bWu99N2DMwL7V6f0up3MeJumwsUH7h2a0PBGObhG5avwLuSJG2MUocb31Dqe_NoTBmu6Ph21Zqh_DYGaMROSLbeGzPJFatZnBEfbZ0NU/s320/035.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Proud Daddy. My husband is my rock, I could not imagine going through this without him. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYdxYsvFCHrGjpDXeMxBjTpWCPf3UtiGG6VPS6Mht9ITzdEiSNagypqB30KJg05IkfYhweRr2kWEIS2w8wMxTZaeeGimOMtQNXlikCfLrueyjnUrp_P2KueIyE-6iQpDTmd79Htu8iHup/s1600/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYdxYsvFCHrGjpDXeMxBjTpWCPf3UtiGG6VPS6Mht9ITzdEiSNagypqB30KJg05IkfYhweRr2kWEIS2w8wMxTZaeeGimOMtQNXlikCfLrueyjnUrp_P2KueIyE-6iQpDTmd79Htu8iHup/s320/036.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTaRrH6h9D_xOBrk51tMn396xNtBJuXjC3i4dFYRPtAirVSDPl1W3hbpYk4T7VDmFsMlAjqztMddso2O2XB6shUBLwj4tHAd8pH1GGQPC_99KGEogn4fDRMYnlWW-zPJ0H4zrFjc-tnM2m/s1600/039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTaRrH6h9D_xOBrk51tMn396xNtBJuXjC3i4dFYRPtAirVSDPl1W3hbpYk4T7VDmFsMlAjqztMddso2O2XB6shUBLwj4tHAd8pH1GGQPC_99KGEogn4fDRMYnlWW-zPJ0H4zrFjc-tnM2m/s320/039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Annabelle Louise, 6 lbs 10 oz, 19 inches long.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UqGvHnKqiJ39Nt-O1iVd3dG_Pb1_TrEH6gZEWNAdfYG_fAvvKsI_EcOcdkblfMDSJi9HqYQPvEGy9srtm3sA_cIcjkSw-a84Ln-oGk9D-VkbV2So6F9bU0C5BRC9JCDrl9usm2yKdO4G/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UqGvHnKqiJ39Nt-O1iVd3dG_Pb1_TrEH6gZEWNAdfYG_fAvvKsI_EcOcdkblfMDSJi9HqYQPvEGy9srtm3sA_cIcjkSw-a84Ln-oGk9D-VkbV2So6F9bU0C5BRC9JCDrl9usm2yKdO4G/s320/049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This was the first time the kids met their sister.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEC0t4Bq2VzkwKdZvI9_BB_lGjcAnCtGL5lJHb1HbXcMuxL5xMzStkauUdmfm86w5EcXKGA04Mo_e6GY5QyBsNrqTHCkN3RNOOTujHgPzP3LuQTo9n0T_kCHzxet4hF4rnEQryjmvqILHv/s1600/052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEC0t4Bq2VzkwKdZvI9_BB_lGjcAnCtGL5lJHb1HbXcMuxL5xMzStkauUdmfm86w5EcXKGA04Mo_e6GY5QyBsNrqTHCkN3RNOOTujHgPzP3LuQTo9n0T_kCHzxet4hF4rnEQryjmvqILHv/s320/052.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OW8f5xLP4mG2NHVAWeYL21YBLzdZuV-jWXh7M1WZIcQMgIZJ4beI2HD-trD2BtJoblG_InpOW8cMsmqvZptBxBoX666prynQrBBtbsS9CUOgDgd5lu5zJuKHEg7pS7X-QXGTsROJc6kV/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OW8f5xLP4mG2NHVAWeYL21YBLzdZuV-jWXh7M1WZIcQMgIZJ4beI2HD-trD2BtJoblG_InpOW8cMsmqvZptBxBoX666prynQrBBtbsS9CUOgDgd5lu5zJuKHEg7pS7X-QXGTsROJc6kV/s320/053.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Seriously why do we take these pictures?? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">oh... MEMORIES that's right. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEsfJThkS7qDSlhyNw8fibDb7UuVxJFqOqsKROs3Namsmd5xJgYXioHysq5ala6IfCz4oesaldM9ayWJbQqxCF5QKq5xKMILYU9YtJcsjiEfaBCet1aZExBjSkHaXU34zWCWYVMQVAySC/s1600/054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfEsfJThkS7qDSlhyNw8fibDb7UuVxJFqOqsKROs3Namsmd5xJgYXioHysq5ala6IfCz4oesaldM9ayWJbQqxCF5QKq5xKMILYU9YtJcsjiEfaBCet1aZExBjSkHaXU34zWCWYVMQVAySC/s320/054.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pretty in pink. Another Girly Girl. If I can help it.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EY9ejZh1t3q0bm54AXQ2ZqN02CNXpF5v_OJuJ2blQDfX9OshoFIWmjqng1HQRQYnmLvAZvdDMXERQAxCWzxzYlosR4JbWQzVyHeYz7ORyrr3r-iStEd8xg0RM7coYfbCkN1jb1lvazCU/s1600/055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EY9ejZh1t3q0bm54AXQ2ZqN02CNXpF5v_OJuJ2blQDfX9OshoFIWmjqng1HQRQYnmLvAZvdDMXERQAxCWzxzYlosR4JbWQzVyHeYz7ORyrr3r-iStEd8xg0RM7coYfbCkN1jb1lvazCU/s320/055.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYh4I4HriWtcThtp8Va0WB-Q5PGX6toBwiie28yXB8xRmovf16GRsWrwPpnEFTjEmWmjRLVZb0DzK5fyzSmIYvN8Lke0SIGzKB4nfvF03LpWecjssSs6-IQGyMhexPf02QwnF43E0Kx4cU/s1600/056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYh4I4HriWtcThtp8Va0WB-Q5PGX6toBwiie28yXB8xRmovf16GRsWrwPpnEFTjEmWmjRLVZb0DzK5fyzSmIYvN8Lke0SIGzKB4nfvF03LpWecjssSs6-IQGyMhexPf02QwnF43E0Kx4cU/s320/056.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The kids did not do good at the hospital.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> So I had a lot of alone time with my baby girl. Thank goodness, it gave me time to bond with her.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4iIbwryaiAaHWaJtaN-pfL2gnGt6KQ3s2P-u6aOJMXgVnPkA45Al4uCOdnsUdpe0rV4SDoK4bZtRezld31jiBVI5DOC6GRyRU6iD3e-GpR05iruyVMdWwfw9OeBlnzYA1rkSgJGXj_eA/s1600/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4iIbwryaiAaHWaJtaN-pfL2gnGt6KQ3s2P-u6aOJMXgVnPkA45Al4uCOdnsUdpe0rV4SDoK4bZtRezld31jiBVI5DOC6GRyRU6iD3e-GpR05iruyVMdWwfw9OeBlnzYA1rkSgJGXj_eA/s320/057.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFu-Ednmg57WUyXkd6UinrKxeMbVWLDwE8nX-_6t1nxmII5I78c2nTH2hMgISEnWQvBSGZI3svS4n7e2M4xXwH4tC3grk_FqTVDKC6a2Bj3o4E7nqLlzSrPQiDcLiyGA68mAzzewQbhGg/s1600/061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFu-Ednmg57WUyXkd6UinrKxeMbVWLDwE8nX-_6t1nxmII5I78c2nTH2hMgISEnWQvBSGZI3svS4n7e2M4xXwH4tC3grk_FqTVDKC6a2Bj3o4E7nqLlzSrPQiDcLiyGA68mAzzewQbhGg/s320/061.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYeQ72f2_d0O6Ktg8aebKW1sseoXETIuLDJSoCqsvKcFPaxtMYoMo30iLxRNvjGVqd1axuQ83qneGcjVy7hZNr04B2oMtpos_WucouHBxc7o2lFyiHk0R4JAZe_3V7vW_rR-yNNwnoHwar/s1600/066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYeQ72f2_d0O6Ktg8aebKW1sseoXETIuLDJSoCqsvKcFPaxtMYoMo30iLxRNvjGVqd1axuQ83qneGcjVy7hZNr04B2oMtpos_WucouHBxc7o2lFyiHk0R4JAZe_3V7vW_rR-yNNwnoHwar/s320/066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Getting ready to go home. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's been 2 weeks and now I see how different she is already, and how beat up she looked in this picture.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixwybYoUZLJ1ZI4TRIBhtEwkcSFr3cvlhb_eEKC_qHuWt3fJHD1baJaZBkBWX1Xv8Fouv8IbddY47d2usy2IchyphenhyphenXsLW8zvcp75UAx2HZlavZezEfGFYK2O6CUkBlO8Z-kNqsjSZM8DDc_U/s1600/067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixwybYoUZLJ1ZI4TRIBhtEwkcSFr3cvlhb_eEKC_qHuWt3fJHD1baJaZBkBWX1Xv8Fouv8IbddY47d2usy2IchyphenhyphenXsLW8zvcp75UAx2HZlavZezEfGFYK2O6CUkBlO8Z-kNqsjSZM8DDc_U/s320/067.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgRwH8n97flj1JigmxT9iK3evy76IrYs9hfBrDg2htxloC88rMS4ZsVY0T-Ma-aKVw2wJMnTfgS4dfueBDFYdfau6ZJ19yObBwCRAhVQyMb3QO-Wv-N-fu7-KuD_1JGCvFPLafeRngU7s/s1600/068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgRwH8n97flj1JigmxT9iK3evy76IrYs9hfBrDg2htxloC88rMS4ZsVY0T-Ma-aKVw2wJMnTfgS4dfueBDFYdfau6ZJ19yObBwCRAhVQyMb3QO-Wv-N-fu7-KuD_1JGCvFPLafeRngU7s/s320/068.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1IeArpiuxSnuEnkeypPe0FVVPRA6CDzb3qXfGLjM8g6ZW3R00VwdYsg-g2txL_myiABMnEPgr6YA2EAJSQzilNP4p5_SlS0PyI_3ZfQ6JPxJM4w8V7QxSOCM6G6qajbKs4pGszgPyrfK/s1600/074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie1IeArpiuxSnuEnkeypPe0FVVPRA6CDzb3qXfGLjM8g6ZW3R00VwdYsg-g2txL_myiABMnEPgr6YA2EAJSQzilNP4p5_SlS0PyI_3ZfQ6JPxJM4w8V7QxSOCM6G6qajbKs4pGszgPyrfK/s320/074.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwUbPSiCcE3zXR4L31KnqlXqZLJHCWogWOmTMlcjUFXQk-4DBEKYxNq6OdVtOCCQkKjQrOKxRwqS3DUmE12ktazc83xIhJciPfYnY9g259dimSEFha4lhnnLbNWbOchxxQfWHXLUphZB7/s1600/077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTwUbPSiCcE3zXR4L31KnqlXqZLJHCWogWOmTMlcjUFXQk-4DBEKYxNq6OdVtOCCQkKjQrOKxRwqS3DUmE12ktazc83xIhJciPfYnY9g259dimSEFha4lhnnLbNWbOchxxQfWHXLUphZB7/s320/077.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">3 kids, 3 car seats, 3 reasons to drive slower.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDxEENK-JmdZxc6Fnc_EAddQoMP0i50CvJ6yNHWsJVbcxTHnV6L7Lgk75mhk3FL2m73Wwyh0xGKLVn9ARjq8qmSnqiR9EjyQu_oo2sWSWcKqyXTRzddd4uVOO7GzqFMJIu2mjwoMyKuph/s1600/081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDxEENK-JmdZxc6Fnc_EAddQoMP0i50CvJ6yNHWsJVbcxTHnV6L7Lgk75mhk3FL2m73Wwyh0xGKLVn9ARjq8qmSnqiR9EjyQu_oo2sWSWcKqyXTRzddd4uVOO7GzqFMJIu2mjwoMyKuph/s320/081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When we got home, Annabelle smiled for about 5 minutes. I do not think gas can cause such joy. I think she was dreaming, or remembering life before she got here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Annabelle, is an amazing baby. She is just another piece of our family puzzle. The kids love her, and are always wanting to hold and kiss her. We are blessed and although we had to have 4 miscarriages to bring them here. We would do it all over again, and will continue to do it until our family is complete. We are not done, despite of what some may think. I still have angels up there waiting to come to our crazy little family.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">DISCLAIMER: Despite of the fact that Castor Oil worked for me, I do not recommend it. It is NOT for the faint at heart. But yes I would do it again.</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-8265921785527321532011-05-04T08:33:00.000-07:002011-05-04T08:35:00.826-07:00New Beginnings.<div style="text-align: center;">For the past 2 weeks I have been missing from the blog world, and now I come back with a whole new address. You may be wondering (or not) why. Well... Due to some very personal reasons I had to change the address and create a whole new blog. Which is not an easy thing to do if I may say. I am not completely pleased with the results yet, but I better start somewhere. Hopefully you will follow our crazy life here now. I am still debating on weather or not to remove the previous blog from the web, don't be surprised if I do. I wish there was a way to just transfer everything to this one. But I did not figure out how. Stay in touch for many updates, life did go on even if I didn't blog about it and I will catch up with it.</div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-36049414927823982642011-04-23T09:04:00.000-07:002011-05-05T12:42:52.295-07:00She is here...As I sit here waiting to be discharged, I figured I would let everyone know that Annabelle Louise came into the world in time for her grandma's birthday. April 21st, 2011 at 9:35 am. After a very easy delivery. She weighs 6 pounds 10 ounces, and she is 19 inches long. A tiny little head, she has her brothers eyes, her sisters nose, a fullness of black hair, and an attitude. <br />We are in love... (again)Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6847014038933937414.post-22957119604644019142011-04-16T20:32:00.000-07:002011-05-05T12:42:52.295-07:00Sometimes we HAVE to be the nagging wife.So I am sorry everyone, but pictures are not going to be happening fr a while. I have no more room in the free space of my blog. And the whole make a book thing is being a little harder then I expected, So I can't just make a book of 2009 and erase it from the file. (so if you have ever done it and have a easy site please let me know)<br /><br />I would like to share with you about my day, Yesterday!!! And how the event of 3 weeks ago made my day so bad. Well here it goes.<br /><br />My husband told me that after the baby was born he could only stay home for one week. (which is fine) but that after that week he would have to go to Louisiana for 2 weeks. Leaving me completely alone with my 2 kids and a NEWBORN for those 2 weeks. But that he would come back for one week and then leave again for another 2 weeks to Oklahoma. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!! So after a few days of sitting on the Idea of being by myself for the entire month of MAY. I decided I would just move to Florida in May. But than I decided I could not be there for the whole month and had a breakdown. Especially after I found out that his boss took a month off to go to California to take care of his DOGS. (you see he is that kind of man, the one with no family, wife or kids, and believes that his Dogs can replace all that stuff) Well my wonderful husband understood why I was freaking out, and told his boss he would not be leaving me the week after the baby was here, and he would only be gone for 2 weeks in the end of May. Needless to say his boss was NOT happy and has been punishing him ever since.<br /><br />He needed to go to Pennsylvania to pick up an airplane, and told me in the beginning of the week he would be gone for a couple days this week. I did NOT have a good feeling about the whole thing, but because I had already nagged at him for leaving I was not going to it this time. Even if I am 37 weeks prego, and baby can come any time. So he left on Thursday, and told me he would get on the plane and be home by noon on Friday, which was Spencer's birthday. Okay, well I get a call about 8:30 am from him saying... "there is something wrong with the plane and I cannot fly it home" My reply was simple and rude. "well... you get in the next commercial flight and be home by tonight for your son's party, and don't even think about picking this plane up again until after the baby is born. I am not going to spend another night worrying that I might go into labor while you are not here."<br /><br />I had a horrible night as it was, I never sleep well and he is not home. So I was tired and now I would have to tell my son that daddy might not be home for his birthday, and ask if he wanted to wait to open his presents or do it without daddy. I also would have to spend another day taking care of them by myself. Which lately is being a greater challenge than I can explain. We had an egg hunt in the morning, and Spencer was all over the place. He now knows that I don't have the strength or the desire to discipline him so he pretty much runs all over me. So no need to say I was frustrated, i came home and put them down for naps and had to make a chocolate cake, with strawberries, and skateboards... Yeah, that was the ugliest cake I ever made. But it tasted sooooo good. Well I had to pick up my husband from the airport an hour before the party started at Chuck e Cheese. So I left my house at 3:40 pm for Nashville, to pick him up at 5. It should have been PLENTY of time. But since it "only" rains here for 3 months straight 24 hours a day, out of the year. There are still idiots who cannot drive. And of course there was an accident, which cause 35 minutes of COMPLETE Stop in the interstate. While listening to Spencer complaining about how long it was taking, and telling me to go faster, and reminding me that I had just past the entrance to Chuck E cheese.<br /><br />I could feel my blood boilling as I sat there not moving, I could hear myself say... Why didn't I just told him to stay. And put my foot down, and not care about being nagging. I could also swim on the selfpitty I was drowning myself in. I was MAD at the world around me. As soon as we past the accident, (which by the way was caused by a stupid truck driver who was trying to pass someone one the left lane, during a thunderstorm) Why can't they just stay on the right where they belong? I DROVE LIKE A MAD WOMAN... Knowing I would be late for my own son's birthday made me feel like the worst mom alive, And it was not EVEN my fault. I had road rage, I don't usually do. I never felt so angry while driving actually, I was the crazy woman flashing people out of the way, Which by the way... If you are a small sedan with a Suburban flashing you to move over. DO IT, I could ran you over. Anyways... We got to the airport, and my husband was greeted with a... "JUST GET IN THE FREAKING CAR" and we took off.<br /><br />We made it to the party, the kids had a lot of fun. Spencer will never remember how crappy the day was. But I am still bitter, because in trying to be an understanding wife. I caused a whole lot of stress and the worst day. Now as I look back it doesn't seam like it should have been that bad. But boy, these pregnancy hormones threw me in for a loop.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15451294650951897853noreply@blogger.com2