<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:42:40.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 Makes 10</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-2745250737287509341</id><published>2007-09-25T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T11:34:41.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Homemaking, Motherhood, and being a Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#006600;"&gt;I came acrossed something this morning I wanted to share. This article was written by Nila B. Dayton back in 1980. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Philosopy of my Role as a Homemaker&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;For me, homemaking is a creative, spiritual experience, and I have come to realize that there is no greater responsibility than that of showing and teaching love and training a child to be an honest, honorable, and righteous citizen. And there is no stronger or more effective way of doing this than for me as a parent to be what I would like the children, who have been entrusted in my care, to be. For this reason I believe that motherhood is truly the greatest responsiblity a woman can have.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because attitudes are taught, not caught, [a mother's] attitudes towards homemaking as well as all that life encompasses, creates either a world of love or a world of distress.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Homemaking encompasses not only the daily duty of maintaining in the home an enviromnent conducive to the physical, mental, and spiritual development of the children, but also the real responsibility of being a sweet, supportive companion to my choice eternal partner. Our home is the residence of the heart as well as a place to feed and rest the body. I believe that the sprit of the home created and maintained by the parents determineds the quality of its product, which is our children.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Well, there you go. What more can you say that isn't snivilling or self degrading? Nothing is more important that rearing, cultivating, and loving productive and wonderful human beings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-2745250737287509341?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/2745250737287509341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=2745250737287509341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2745250737287509341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2745250737287509341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/09/homemaking-motherhood-and-being-wife.html' title='Homemaking, Motherhood, and being a Wife'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-3348260835981487735</id><published>2007-09-05T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T14:01:43.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yeah, ok, so I told you about the ridiculous drivers this morning...it just doesn't stop! I went to get my little kindergarten girl and, remember the SUV that made me mad this morning for parking in the DRIVE WAY, well, a blue minivan was parked in the drive way at the elementary with another minivan behind her, leaving me out in the street with others behind me, when she should have pulled forward...she was just camped out there! The way this works is that you enter the parking lot on the right, move around the outside of the lot in a counter-clockwise direction, exit on the left side; you're entering and exiting out of the same drive way. There are cars coming out on the left, cars moving long the edge picking up children, we're waiting behind this woman who apparently thinks she's at a campsite rather than getting because she simply refuses to move to the right when all of a sudden someone gets out of her van and she does a U-turn right there in front of the on-coming cars and "parks" AGAIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH, and let's not forget the "loving, concerned, safety-minded" parents who double-park, holding up traffic in the street to yell for their children to get in the car making them manuver between on-coming traffic, stand in the lane their parent are stopped in, and climb into their car with the other lane driving past them...yesterday, I was blocked from leaving where I was parked on the side of the road while this woman did that very thing...she's lucky one of her children wasn't hurt...I mean, where's the wisdom of encouraging children to dart in and out of traffic so that you don't have to go through the trouble of finding a decent parking place?!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-3348260835981487735?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/3348260835981487735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=3348260835981487735&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3348260835981487735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3348260835981487735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/09/yeah-ok-so-i-told-you-about-ridiculous.html' title=''/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-8257403031335615804</id><published>2007-09-05T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T13:43:28.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;So I'm taking my children to school; first Tyler to the middle school and then the girls to the elementary across town (it's just worth the drive for a better school than the one I live right next to).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Right off the bat I begin having an issue with drivers. I approach an intersection, I'm moving forward through the intersection watching the woman facing in my direction stopped with her left turn signal on, now remember, I'm moving forward, she begins to turn and gets angry with me for not stopping because she wanted to turn! Whatever...she'll get over the fact that lefthand turns have to wait for traffic moving forward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Closing in on the middle school I pull into the parking lot--well, the first car length of the parking lot at the middle school because the SUV in front of me had to STOP right there were cars are pulling in and out to let a child out of the vehicle...holding up several cars behind me on the road...but, you know, whatever, they're more important than anyone else, right? Then the SUV drives into the parking lot and around to the front of the school--as the rest of us normally do, and then pulls into a parking slot to allow other children out at the front door...WHAT?!! I mean, why did that one child need to get out of the car, weave through the MOVING traffic to get to the back door when he could have gotten out with the others at the front door and had the same length--but SAFER--walk. Anyway, I'm sitting there waiting to turn into a stall, myself, just waiting for the line of cars to my left to get past me so I can pull in and let my son out...it looks somewhat like leaving the county fair or some other crowded event...slow, long lines. I see a space where I can park--one of MANY--all I need to do is move up a bit to get past the car at my side and turn, but the white SUV  about five car-lengths ahead of me (going the opposite direction on my left) just hurries her little buns up to the car on my side closing up the space... WHY? it's wasn't like she was going anywhere...everyone was stopped, it wasn't like I was going to take her spot in line...I was trying to pass THROUGH it to park...AND I even had my Magical and Mystical blinker on...annoying! After I wait for three more imperceptively moving cars to pass, I park, my son gets out of the car, and now I want to back out of the spot I had to wait for but I can't because there's now a minivan PARKED behind me...I mean, really folks, there's like TEN open spots to my left and 20 to my right, choose one and pull in--this one was going the opposite direction than I was so s/he didn't even have to wait to turn through the line. AND, you know what, the line was thinning so much at this point, there really wasn't much of a line anymore, just like five cars. I'm sitting there waiting for the minivan to move so that I can back MY awesome little Honda Odyssey out and this little sporting car tries to muscle me back into my spot by pulling up...AGAIN, there's 30 some OPEN parking spots, PULL INTO ONE for crying out loud! OK, so I'm finally out of the parking spot and into the northbound "line" of cars--you know, moving the opposite direction from whence I came to begin with, we're moving pretty steadily at about 5 miles per hour along the legth of the school getting ready to turn right and go along the north side of the school so we can get out when this BRILLIANT woman just coming INTO the parking lot decides she isn't going to deal with all of that, dumps her child out so that HE can weave through the moving vehicles, and then she does a U-turn right there and pulls in front of the small black car ahead of me--no blinker, no wave of the hand, no thank you--nothing!  Ugh...good morning to you, too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;So I got out of that mess and we're off taking the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;girls to school and all is well. We're just driving and singing to Rascal Flatts having a pleasant morning. (Yeah, I know...a pleasant morning?! with MY group?! it does happen sometimes) We pull up to the school and it's the same thing as before...pull into the parking lot, stay to the perimeter, drive in a counter-clock direction, stop in front of the school to let your child out of your car on the side closest to the school, and leave; you can also pull into the lot driving to the left of the other cars in order to park. So, there I am with my girls in the minivan, we're slowly progressing forward when a mother in another car thinks, "Hey, I'm too SPECIAL to have to wait, and my child is carproof,  so I'm just gonna pull up in this space here and let my little girl out to walk through the cars," and she does just that all the while blowing kisses and announcing her love for her baby...you know, the little bitty princess squeazing between two MOVING vehicles who have to slam on their brakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;What is WRONG with these people?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-8257403031335615804?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/8257403031335615804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=8257403031335615804&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8257403031335615804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8257403031335615804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/09/so-im-taking-my-children-to-school.html' title=''/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-160894628171024151</id><published>2007-08-31T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T08:51:21.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Heavy Balloons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Kristina, you'll recognize this story since you were on the phone with me while it happened...let me tell you...the laughing was PAINFUL!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;So the other day I was in my roon talking to my friend, Kristina, on the telephone when my little girl, Ashlynn, came in to complain that her sisters were playing with her two balloons. They were going to put water in them and make the pop and that was just NOT ok with her, and the mere fact that they were even touching them was beyond reasonable because they belong to HER. "OK," I tell her, "I'll take care of it in a minute."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Well, a minute came and went, I'm still on the phone and there sounds to be peace and compromise happening in the home with the girls. GREAT! Teamwork. I LOVE IT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;LOL...yes, well, I had NO idea what they were "working" on together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Here's what I found out:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;While laying on the bed nursing my baby and chatting away with Kristina (it really wasn't as long as it may sound...I think a grand total of 12 minutes and some seconds for the ENTIRE conversation which goes through the majority of the following story) Karlie pops into my room and says something like, "Presenting the Amazing Ashlynn!" So I look up toward the door expecting to see my little princess spruced up with some play make-up or wearing some fun little hair do... Just then Eliana sweeps in and announces, "Their names are Hot and Cold." Huh?! Who's names are Hot and Cold?  About 4 seconds later Ashlynn comes BOUNCING in with her two balloons filled with water, stuffed into one of my bras inside her shirt! She looked like a little Dolly Parton, minus the massive amount of make-up and year supply of hair spray. So, I laugh, because, dang it, it was FUNNY. She's standing there making her chest rise up and down so the balloons with jump and jiggle...you know, it was so fascinating for her. Eliana tells me the filled one balloon with hot water and the other with cold...I don't know why, but it must have felt wierd. So they're just reveling in their fun of simple augmentation making all kinds of noice so I leave the room and head for the quiet in the family room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Moments later, here comes Karlie. She now has my bra on and the two balloons safely snug inside. She slides up to my side and with this hilariously husky voice says, "I'm HOT!" and then glancing downward from one side to the other raising the appropriate shoulder to elevate her chest, she says, "...and this is Chili, and this is Pepper!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;OH MY GOSH!! Are you kidding, I could hardly stand it...it was so funny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;She then takes off her shirt and is standing here with my balloon filled bra on, I tell her they're really too high to be a representation of really ones and begin to pull them down a bit on her chest (Look, there were no boys in the house and it was just cute to watch them trying to emulate 'women'...shoot me for thinking they were amusing at that very moment) Eliana, with a certain amount of disbelief and light-hearted criticism, scolds me, "So you're going to make it so it looks like she could really have them?!" Karlie replies with a whole lot of "duh" in her voice, "Yeah, she like them" while running her left hand down the side of her left balloon. OK, I'm beginning to have a need for an oxygen mask and a diaper...you know, it was simply hysterical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;THEN she does the unthinkable for which I'm going to need resuscitation; she grabbes hold of each balloon and kisses the right sided followed by the left in this "gym-nut, Jock, self-loving, muscle adoring approval thing" sort of way. TOO MUCH!!! This girl is a riot!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-160894628171024151?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/160894628171024151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=160894628171024151&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/160894628171024151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/160894628171024151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/08/top-heavy-balloons.html' title='Top Heavy Balloons'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-2184025833563431265</id><published>2007-08-25T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T13:39:31.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Eyes and Stripes</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning on my way taking my girls to the school we were listening to music--having a good time when all of a sudden I see movement out of the corner of my right eye. I look over and see this big ol' fat cat...no, little dog...NO, RACOON...bookin' it toward the road where I would be in 2.573 seconds. This little bandit was racing out from behind a house just 2 lots away from the school, in fact their back yard fence boarders their soccer field. School wouldn't be starting for another 15minutes which meant children could still be walking up past that house--or the one acrossed the street to which the raccoon ran to--and not know exactly what they were creeping up onto. Those little guys aren't the most friendly, they are defensive, they carry--or have the potential to--parasites and viruses like rabies, and children are so curious and naive that they'd probably try to catch it, pet it, or even tease it.  Gosh, could you imagine?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told the crossing gaurd since her she works for the Ogden City Police Department and the principal of the school to beware if a child comes in with a "cat" bite that it might not actually be so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is when I hear they've been having an "invasion" of sorts of raccoons in that area...nice. I don't wish those little critters any harm; I do, however, worry more about children than them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-2184025833563431265?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/2184025833563431265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=2184025833563431265&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2184025833563431265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2184025833563431265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/08/black-eyes-and-stripes.html' title='Black Eyes and Stripes'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-2060721962316318216</id><published>2007-08-23T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T13:20:30.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sports Physical</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I realize that most people have this already figured out; but just in case, I thought I'd pass this little tidbit by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;When your son expresses and interest in sports at school and you enthusiastically agree, and when the school for which your son will be playing sports for alerts you to the convenience of having a physician come to the school to give all the athletes a physical, one needs to understand that this REALLY does mean a COMPLETE physical and IF your son has not had THAT particular exam, a loving, thoughtful, and UNbraindead parent would kindly explain, warn, mock...SOMEthing to give the poor soul a heads up BEFORE he's dumbfoundedly turning his head to cough!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Yeah, that would be a nice, thoughtful thing of which THIS not unbraindead parent did NOT do, and my brave--if UNimpressed--son came home wanting answers yet lacked a burning desire to talk to ME to get them! Hmm...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-2060721962316318216?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/2060721962316318216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=2060721962316318216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2060721962316318216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2060721962316318216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/08/sports-physical.html' title='Sports Physical'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-6525778204658573982</id><published>2007-08-23T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T09:32:14.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rs2z61tS47I/AAAAAAAAAGM/0i2lzDb5CD0/s1600-h/Pics+from+Regina"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101931776311485362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rs2z61tS47I/AAAAAAAAAGM/0i2lzDb5CD0/s200/Pics+from+Regina%27s+Phone+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rs2y8ltS44I/AAAAAAAAAF0/DCJ-zCuq8is/s1600-h/Pics+from+Regina"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101930706864628610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rs2y8ltS44I/AAAAAAAAAF0/DCJ-zCuq8is/s320/Pics+from+Regina%27s+Phone+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Today is Miss Ashlynn's first day of school EVER...she's a big Kinderkid now. She was so excited to start school and fire me; no more mornings with Mommy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;She has a wonderful teacher, as does all the others: Hillcrest simply doesn't have negative teachers--it's the cream of the crop for them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Doesn't she look cute!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;We had a bit of a difficult start to our morning though, because yesterday she just thought it be a REALLY good idea if she used her scissors (you guessed it) to cut some of her hair (and YES, again) right in FRONT! So I used scissors to soften the blunt carving in her mane, then with added and sudden disappearing act of ALL usable hair accessories we had to fight against the evil bad-hair-day powers at work; it was difficult, somewhat painful, but we made it through with minimal casualties and a pretty cute looking little girl---well, the cute little girl part was never in question.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;It was sad for this Mama, it was like taking the last walk down a long, dark hallway to an execution or something...For ME...my little partner was moving on to bigger better things and I'm not left to be the big grown up all by myself...Until Mykayela starts to take over, that is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;Oh these milestones come so quickly and they're so bitter sweet. I'm excited to hear all about her day at school today!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-6525778204658573982?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/6525778204658573982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=6525778204658573982&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/6525778204658573982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/6525778204658573982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/08/today-is-miss-ashlynns-first-day-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rs2z61tS47I/AAAAAAAAAGM/0i2lzDb5CD0/s72-c/Pics+from+Regina%27s+Phone+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-3891026843806352455</id><published>2007-08-14T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T15:22:16.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mykayela</title><content type='html'>My little sweetheart has just cut her first tooth on the top...the upper right tooth came through last night--or early this morning depending on how you want to look at it.  When we went to bed the tooth was cover by her gums but when we got up it was poking right out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's started saying words I can identify, too: Mommy (ALL of the time), Thank  You (DA Du), and Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started walking 5 weeks ago tomorrow and hasn't looked back...she's trying to RUN everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today I took her into the bathroom and she played peek-a-boo with herself in the mirror, cracked herself up spinning around...it was the funniest thing ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's growing so fast...I really like the little personality she has...although, I discovered today that she has a TEMPER!  lol  cute for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-3891026843806352455?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/3891026843806352455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=3891026843806352455&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3891026843806352455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3891026843806352455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/08/mykayela.html' title='Mykayela'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-1200193992035521023</id><published>2007-07-11T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T08:41:32.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpT5zhKlK4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/VH8AIeruyAI/s1600-h/Stunning+Catelynn+edit+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085964542679526274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpT5zhKlK4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/VH8AIeruyAI/s400/Stunning+Catelynn+edit+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#336666;"&gt;Monday a dear, wonderful woman, our friend Christy Bailey, came over to give Catelynn the best gift ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christy is a hair stylist and has been for 32 years--she's very experienced and good at what she does. Her family has quite the legacy for doing hair; her mother, her sisters--one of whom owns and runs a beauty school, her daughters, AND her daughters-in-law...hair is what they know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catelynn doesn't have plain ol' average "Utah" hair because she's not a plain ol' white girl...she's beautiful and has amazing ethnic hair given to her through her Samoan bloodline. Blessedly for us, Christy is one of the few “white people” (as she puts it) who can do ethnic hair…boy did she spend a pretty penny in order to learn, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t have had more confidence in a person touching her hair. Christy has the knowledge and she had the concern and desire to gift Catelynn with what she’s been wanting for a VERY long time—STRAIGHT HAIR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hour and a few minutes after Christy and her daughter started working on Catelynn’s hair we had an amazing change standing in my kitchen…it was heart-stopping. I took one look at our beautiful Catelynn and tears came to my eyes…there standing before me was one of the most alluringly beautiful young women I’ve seen…she was simply STUNNING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catelynn was in awe when she finally got to see herself…she gasped, her eyes brightened, and a smile spread across her face. She was satisfied and at awe with herself. She ran her fingers through her hair, she ran out to the trampoline so she could feel her hair move up and down, she liked the feel of a brush going over her scalp…it was a bunch of new and exciting experiences for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…And it was all a GIFT!!! …a gift just for Catelynn from love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the evening while in her room Catelynn said to me, “Now I look like I belong.” It was then that I realized more of the significance of this gift to her. How sad for her to feel like she doesn’t belong…how wonderful that she feels like she does now, but ultimately sad to know it took a hair treatment for her to do so…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Thank You Sister Bailey!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-1200193992035521023?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/1200193992035521023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=1200193992035521023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/1200193992035521023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/1200193992035521023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/07/monday-dear-wonderful-woman-our-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpT5zhKlK4I/AAAAAAAAAE4/VH8AIeruyAI/s72-c/Stunning+Catelynn+edit+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-9155257851364829160</id><published>2007-07-10T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T15:29:08.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQHTRKlK3I/AAAAAAAAAEw/Kjf9t4MoS6Y/s1600-h/Regina"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;CAMPING!! :o)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This last weekend we went camping as a great big family. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to with Mykayela being so small and somewhat mobile. I was concerned she might be infatuated by the fire and want to get into it and several other possible traumas. In the end, we all went together anyway.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;What a trial at first!! We loaded up the back of our vans and stuffed our children into them, half in each, and drove to Smith’s to pick up some fire wood and a few last minute items—everything was fine. We waited in our van—those of us in the van I was driving, and the boys went into the store with Mark—still fine. They all came out got into the van Mark was driving and then---NOTHING! Not a dang thing. The ridiculous contraption would not turn over, it just would not start. We were stuck in the grocery parking lot. Well, it wasn’t just warm out there, no, it was mind melting heat out there and out there we sat for EVER and a day waiting for something to happen with the van. Yeah, nothing happened with it and so we had to figure something else out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We had to take two trips to the site; one trip to take half of the children and the things in the good van and then a second to get the rest of the children and things. It’s a good thing we have children old enough to legally babysit! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We got there and it was beautiful, peaceful, and quite simply wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mykayela wondered around our area and never ventured toward the fire pit or even the area where we parked the van. It’s so nice to have angels helping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I haven’t had real quiet peaceful time to do much of anything for a long time but while we were camping I was able to get into touch with my creative side. I painted a plaque for our family while we were up there…it was so nice, it felt good and it was quite fulfilling to hear all of our children tell me it was “really good”, “awesome” and “I can’t believe you did that”, and even “It doesn’t look like you painted it, it looks like a machine did it.” &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQDWRKlKtI/AAAAAAAAADg/EK3pxMC1dCQ/s1600-h/Regina"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085693560307919570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="167" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQDWRKlKtI/AAAAAAAAADg/EK3pxMC1dCQ/s200/Regina%27s+FHE+Plaque.jpg" width="270" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQDhxKlKuI/AAAAAAAAADo/aiHIojOWd0Y/s1600-h/Regina"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085693757876415202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="166" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQDhxKlKuI/AAAAAAAAADo/aiHIojOWd0Y/s200/Regina%27s+FHE+Plaque2.jpg" width="275" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;OK, well, the cell phone pictures aren't that clear...what can I say?!!! lol&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I brought body-art crayons, too. I painted little “tattoos” on the girls. It was so fun. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take a look:&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQCHRKlKqI/AAAAAAAAADI/O4vNbAPFb8w/s1600-h/Covergirl+Kaylee+with+Dragonfly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085692203098253986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 225px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 151px" height="84" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQCHRKlKqI/AAAAAAAAADI/O4vNbAPFb8w/s320/Covergirl+Kaylee+with+Dragonfly.jpg" width="150" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQEkRKlKwI/AAAAAAAAAD4/sEgOoDxJCjE/s1600-h/Regina"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085694900337715970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQEkRKlKwI/AAAAAAAAAD4/sEgOoDxJCjE/s200/Regina%27s+Art+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085694591100070642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQESRKlKvI/AAAAAAAAADw/XBCPkiNpVLE/s200/Regina%27s+Art+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQFARKlKxI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Myo50u4-vUc/s1600-h/Regina"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085695381374053138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQFARKlKxI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Myo50u4-vUc/s200/Regina%27s+Art+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085695587532483362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQFMRKlKyI/AAAAAAAAAEI/GvUW_mJO_uA/s200/Regina%27s+Art+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-9155257851364829160?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/9155257851364829160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=9155257851364829160&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/9155257851364829160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/9155257851364829160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/07/this-last-weekend-we-went-camping-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpQDWRKlKtI/AAAAAAAAADg/EK3pxMC1dCQ/s72-c/Regina%27s+FHE+Plaque.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-1680845220221684859</id><published>2007-07-03T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T23:31:56.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baptisms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We had THREE baptisms this last weekend. At 4:00 pm Gabriel, Karlie, and Kaylee were baptized, and confirmed as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a beautiful day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I was so impressed with my husband. Nothing is as desirable to me than a man showing love for his children and/or a man using the Priesthood he's been give the authority to use and in this moment of time I was able to witness BOTH at once...it was wonderful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Karlie was baptized by her grandfather, while Mark baptized Gabriel and Kaylee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We had fantastic speakers on Baptism and on the Gift of the Holy Ghost. I'm grateful to each for their time and their beautiful talks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-1680845220221684859?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/1680845220221684859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=1680845220221684859&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/1680845220221684859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/1680845220221684859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/07/we-had-three-baptisms-this-last-weekend.html' title='Baptisms'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-3114061696303249918</id><published>2007-06-29T00:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T09:12:45.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Beautiful Year with Mykayela</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpT8LBKlK5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/cblKwyH08iE/s1600-h/Mykayela+and+GGpa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085967145429707666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpT8LBKlK5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/cblKwyH08iE/s320/Mykayela+and+GGpa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I can't believe it has been a complete year since my beautiful baby girl, Mykayela, was born. She was a miracle 16 years in the making...18 years in the waiting. This girl, this miracle of life, she has given me so much joy. I'm so grateful, so utterly thankful to know her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;It all started so suddenly...so unexpectedly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Carrying her was so easy, so natural, so lovely and wonderful...so BEAUTIFUL. Her daddy and I awaited her with incredible love and longing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;The night she was born was more wonderous, intimate, powerful, enjoyable, sublime...more amazing than anything I could ever come close to conveying to anyone. This language I've been given and learned is left wanting, severly lacking in any strength or measure to relay the significant splendor of that night, our birth. I long to relive, to once again &lt;em&gt;feel&lt;/em&gt; those moments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Every day since, every night, every single moment has been bliss. OK, there have been a few crying scenes where it was one step below "Bliss", but I would never trade any of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Our little gift from God had her first birthday Tuesday, June 26th. We celebrated on Saturday the 23rd at the park. We had sandwiches, birthday cake, ice cream, punch, bottled water, chips, and fruit. After eating we put the many water balloons and water guns I purchased to good use.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Mykayela was so funny...cute...sweet. She didn't really want much to do with her birthday cake. She poked at it, tasted the frosting, talked a lot, but she didn't want to eat the cake--she shared it with me though by lifting it up and leaning it into my face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I can't believe the tiny, wet, amazing newborn I held in my arms has blossomed into the fun, squirmy, crawling little baby with pig tails and teeth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I have been so blessed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I have pictures to post of her birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Oh how time marches on but the heart holds fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Happy Birthday Sweet Mykayela!! I LOVE YOU!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-3114061696303249918?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/3114061696303249918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=3114061696303249918&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3114061696303249918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3114061696303249918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/one-beautiful-year-with-mykayela.html' title='One Beautiful Year with Mykayela'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RpT8LBKlK5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/cblKwyH08iE/s72-c/Mykayela+and+GGpa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-8022566651292726876</id><published>2007-06-20T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T21:33:44.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tree House Children's Museum</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Today (Wednesday, June 20) we all went to the Tree House Children's Museum and had a blast...as usual. :o) We have a family membership becuase it just makes sense with all of our wee ones. (ok, so some aren't so "wee")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;At first I wasn't too amused, I mean, I was just sitting there watching some of the girls color their craft. I decided to get out the video camera and do some filming of the children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Catelynn was playing in the music room...so I broke out the camera and started a silly documentary that soon took on a life of it's own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;888888888888Let me just say, after watching this thing at home I'm more determined to get some dang braces to fix my ghetto teeth!888888888888&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;After filming Catelynn perform a rousing rendition of Hot Cross Buns I enlisted her and together we went on the hunt for fun and interesting happenings with the wild animals we live with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Our first stop was the man-cubs in the computer garden...they were hypnotized by the powerful spell of those wicked magical little boxes and therefore not very captivating so we moved on to see if we could spot the rare Kaylee, the elusive Eliana, the amazing Karlie, or the wonderous Gabriel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It wasn't long before off in the distance, in the tree, we spotted signs of the amazing--and QUICK--Karlie, who noticed our presence and excaped our voyeurism. We began a pursuit when all of a sudden the wonderous Gabriel came prancing by, he was quite difficult to communicate with yet we did persist in our endevor to learn more about him and his activities within the Tree House.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It took some time--a little time--and our wonderous Gabriel became domesticated enough to join us in our search for the remain three spectacles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Our journey took us through the homes of China, Germany, England, took us to Mexico where we caught our first undetected glimpes of the elusive Eliana, rare Kaylee, and amazing Karlie ALL TOGETHER at once! It was a momentous and quite excited experience indeed. We were able to observe their behaviors unnoticed for a short period of time before we went in for further detailed study.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The rare Kaylee was the last to take notice of our presence and--surprisingly--the least shy of the three. The rare Kaylee was curious about us as well, curious enough to get so close I could tap her head with the camera...boy was it exciting!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The elusive Eliana remained pensive, staying in the back ground disappearing without a trace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Our amazing Karlie showed little sign of amicable interaction, she simple stood there watching us awaiting the moment of her escape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It happened before we could blink, as quickly as we had found the them, they were gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Off we ran!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We sought out the country of Kenya where we saw brown and tan scenery with lions and monkeys. At one point, a very scary and shocking moment in time, a monkey fought for its territory attacking Catelynn viciously when all of a sudden the Gabriel came to her rescue. Together Gabriel and Catelynn bravely fought the monkey...then the elusive Eliana came on the scene and joined the battle. We were taken up with this battle to such a degree we didn't notice the approach of a huge lion. Just victory was apparent with the monkey on the floor, the elusive Eliana was attacked by the lion!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The lion just threw itself upon the Eliana--right at her head!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We had to pause our documentary for a moment due to the troubling sight before us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Once we had composed ourselves and the commotion was settled we returned to our persuit of the rare Kaylee and the amazing Karlie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We traveled to England where we were able to enjoy a small sabbatical and make sure all was well with each of us. Incredibly, there in the British Isles we spotted the rare Kaylee, she just waltzed right up to us, looked us in the face, and then ran off with the amazing Karlie on her heals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Again we made our way to the house of China were the elusive Eliana and Catelynn commenced in primitive interaction resembling play. It was a gleeful, carefree moment to remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Sadly to report, it was at this time the wonderous Gabriel was eaten by a large fish. EATEN! There it was, a big red striped fish with Gabriel's head in its mouth. Fortunately, Catelynn was able to pull the fish off and the Gabriel was able to run free. Whew! It was an intense moment for sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We resumed our expedition to find the amazing Karlie and the rare Kaylee. Catelynn and I made way to the wilderness, surrounded by wild trees we became a wee bit leery and a bit disturbed by the elusive Eliana, she was oddly everywhere we were now. Could it be that the elusive Eliana is so "elusive" because everyone mistakely believes that they are on the hunt for an Eliana when, in fact, the Eliana is hunting THEM? We ran and ran, quickly--as fast as we could go--through the trees, up the mountains to the high land and hid ourselves and best we could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Not long into our hiding from the Eliana we came across the path of the cutest cub known to modern man; a MYKAYELA Bear. Cute as they are, they are not without boundaries and aren't readily receptive to strangers so our observation was made at a slight distance. It was heart-stopping!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Recovering from our awe, we notices a bolt of lightening to our left. It wasn't really lightening, it was a streak from our rare Kaylee running through the trees. Catelynn sprang into action as I struggled to pull myself together and join the race. By the time I approached Catelynn--who had unwittingly attracted that Eliana--the Kaylee was long gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Our time had expired. It was time to go back into the studio and work on a new story. We had experienced some exciting and wonderful things while on our voyage throughout the wild world, yet there was a small bit of disappointment not having been able to learn and interact more with the Kaylee or the Karlie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;As we were in the process of concluding our show; reminding the viewers that wild Karlies, Kaylees, Elianas, and Gabriels do not make good house pet--no matter how cute they are, we were stalked and attacked by that untamed Eliana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It was a close call, scary and extreme, but we made it out unharmed..............barely. I think that Eliana knows were we live...there have been times I just know I see her lurking around!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;If you are planning to visit the Tree House Children's Museum, BE WARE, you may be lulled into a trap planted by a wild child yourself! ;o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-8022566651292726876?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/8022566651292726876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=8022566651292726876&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8022566651292726876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8022566651292726876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/today-wednesday-june-20-we-all-went-to.html' title='Tree House Children&apos;s Museum'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-2558454511197527743</id><published>2007-06-20T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T20:11:52.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm...</title><content type='html'>Is it wrong to say that right now I feel like I'm living inside of a blender? Would the answer change if one or more of my children heard me say that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love them all, they drive me crazy though...most of that is in a GREAT way and a little tiny bit of that is NOT in a happy way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just thought I'd ask.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-2558454511197527743?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/2558454511197527743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=2558454511197527743&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2558454511197527743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/2558454511197527743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/hmm.html' title='Hmm...'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-5434269997741095725</id><published>2007-06-13T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T12:47:53.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OLD LADY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;We were watching&lt;em&gt; Charlie's Angels&lt;/em&gt; with Drew Barrymore, Lucy Liu, and Cameron Diaz, the topic of "Charlie" and what he looks like came up. I was telling Catelynn and Tyler that noone ever sees Charlie even in the old TV series that played when I was a little girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;"They had a TV show when you were little?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;"Yep, they did."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;"Well, that sounds lame. I don't ever want to see it," my dear sweet son says in his effortless snotty voice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;"Why? It was good," I replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;"Sounds cool to me," said Catelynn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;OK, so this isn't so extraordinary, a boy not thinking he's gonna like an old TV show about "girls"...oh, oh...wait, that would be "CHICKS", an old TV show about CHICKS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;So then Tyler asks, "Was it in black and white?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;Just how old does my son think I am? I mean, black and white was gone when MY mom little!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;I guess it just goes with my son telling me the reason I liked something he didn't was because I was "born in the LAST century!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;That was hysterical until I reminded him that he, too, was born in the last century.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#666600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-5434269997741095725?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/5434269997741095725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=5434269997741095725&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/5434269997741095725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/5434269997741095725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/old-lady.html' title='OLD LADY'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-8957039379815545039</id><published>2007-06-13T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T18:21:40.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Mykayela, our baby, loves to crawl around and get into things...especially her brother and sisters' projects and toys. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Today, like every other day, she was crawling around while we were all busy doing our various projects and chores. Gabriel decided she needed to go to sleep, so he picked her up, carried her to my bedroom, put her on my bed, covered her up with a sheet and walked out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I laughed a little, as did the two oldest children, Catelynn and Tyler, as we watched. Gabe heard us and turned to look at Mykayela who was sitting up smiling. He then, turned back to us and said, "She's hard to put to sleep." LOL &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Tyler laughingly said, "You didn't even try."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Catelynn responded, "Yeah, Gabriel."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;He goes back over to Mykayela, places her on her back, recovers her, walks away, turns back go witness his progress to see that she's still awake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;This repeats five or six times, then he just shakes his head and goes up the stairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;It's been several hours and we have no sleeping baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-8957039379815545039?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/8957039379815545039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=8957039379815545039&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8957039379815545039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8957039379815545039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/sleeping-baby.html' title='Sleeping Baby'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-5370244168973476522</id><published>2007-06-13T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T17:01:42.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In search of the lost lunch eaters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#993300;"&gt;We have a free lunch program here in the summer for anyone under 18 years of age. My children all go to over to the elementary near by or the park in the other direction. Today when everyone was ready to go I heard several voices calling for Nick and then Karlie came down stairs to ask me wear he was. Well, you know what a mom must do when one of the little ones isn't where s/he is supposed to be, so I got up and went on the hunt.  I quickly realized that Nicholas wasn't alone and that Miss Ashlynn wasn't anywhere to be found either. We broke up into groups looking for the two little misguided lambs calling out their names. The boys went up to the school to see if Nick and Ashlynn had gone up there for lunch, some of the girls got on their bikes to ride around the neighborhood, and I went down to the  pond with one of the girls to search for our youngest independent children. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I found one of our bikes on the side of the road about two blocks away just laying there...Hmm...how did that get there?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I could hear the children calling for their brother and sister, yet I saw no sign of them. I guess we'd been looking for about ten minutes...not a LONG time but more than we should've had to...when one of the girls called out that they'd been found...at the school eating lunch. Whew! GRrrr!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I DO NOT like it when little ones think they are big and take off places. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Well, the children went and had their lunch, several of the older ones scolding Nick and Ashlynn, and when they came back I talked to the little ones. They now have to stay inside so I know where they are because their safety is very important. You know, they're not to keen on that, but that's just the way it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Thank goodness they were at the school eating lunch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-5370244168973476522?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/5370244168973476522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=5370244168973476522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/5370244168973476522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/5370244168973476522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/in-search-of-lost-lunch-eaters.html' title='In search of the lost lunch eaters'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-8878093764913913008</id><published>2007-06-09T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T09:24:18.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Eliana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RmrL6LTcTnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/dUcSfy7juYo/s1600-h/Day+at+the+park+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074092130513473138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RmrL6LTcTnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/dUcSfy7juYo/s200/Day+at+the+park+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;My sweet Eliana is TEN years old today. How time flies by! Last night we had a "Cookie Lee" jewelry party for Miss Eliana. My friend Michelle is a consultant and we put together a party to benefit Eli. We a friends come with their moms and they purchased things either for themselves or for Eliana and the hostess credit went toward anything "birthday girl" wanted. We had so much fun playing in the insane amount of jewelry. There was so much to choose from--cute things, amazing things, beautiful things...one or two things one would need to be brave or funky to wear, but everything fun and wonderful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Each of the five big girls got a necklace from me: Ashlynn has a tiara pendant on a ribbon; the two "K"s--Karlie and Kaylee--have a cupcake necklace each  (they just have to match); Catelynn got a gorgeous gold and pink cluster necklace that looks AMAZING on her beautiful carmel color skin; and Eliana got rubyish cherries--plus the several things she received from friends and the plumeria necklace the hostess credit allowed her to earn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;It was so fun having a "girlie" night! We sent the boys camping with Daddy Mark and stayed home to party. We set up a canopy-tent in the front yard, wrapped it with an ocean scene, placed a table inside with food; chips and dip, fruit, veggies, and punch, and we turned on the bubble machine for the little ones to play in bubbles. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;We tried on lots of different styles and colors--remember how fun it was to dress up in mommy's clothes and make-up or grandma's jewelry?--it was like that, only better!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I got some great deal!!! I think I'll be doing something like this for other birthdays, it really worked out well; Eliana got things she really wanted, I saved money, we all had a great time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;After the party wrapped up and everyone left, the girls and I played some games upstairs, ate some spring rolls and chips, and then watched a movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;I bought a birthday cake from Costco that we'll cut tonight since today is Eliana's actual birthday and we'll have some punch with Sprite and do some games with the family if the boys get back early enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;All in all, I think everything worked out well. Eliana felt special--maybe even a little too much so at some points, but it was the general feeling I was going for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Thanks Michelle for bringing a wonderful selection of things! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;We'll see what the rest of the day brings for Eliana...she hasn't received everything yet!  ;o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-8878093764913913008?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/8878093764913913008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=8878093764913913008&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8878093764913913008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/8878093764913913008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/happy-birthday-eliana.html' title='Happy Birthday Eliana'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/RmrL6LTcTnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/dUcSfy7juYo/s72-c/Day+at+the+park+038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-7958891406219534758</id><published>2007-06-05T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T16:31:59.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Mykayela is our sweet baby girl. She's beautiful and the culmination of our love: yeah, ok, so that's sappy, who cares? it's TRUE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Anyway, this blessed bundle of joyous love, the radiating warmth of life we snuggle with each night became the world's loudest eternal screaching siren. Last night this siren was set for whatever moment dear mommy and daddy desired to close our little eyes and immerse ourselves into the gentle inviting arms of the sandman. She pleasantly laid on the bed, sweetly sleeping--glowing even--as she danced with the stars UNTIL Mark and I closed OUR eyes, at which point she IMMEDIATELY started screaming. I tried nursing her--because that's what she projected to be her desire; however, it was not the soothing goodness it has been in the past. There was no magical knockout lastnight--oh NO...she was not going to be comforted. It was horrible. I took her upstairs and went room to room...walked and walked, we swayed and bounced, we rocked and rocked and rocked until...she was still, she was quiet, she was SLEEPING. I broke out my stealthiness, floated down to our bedroom and tried to catch a few "Z"s while it was still dark...I was just beginning to recognize the beckoning voice of our beloved sandman when: SCREAMMMM! Ugh! Are you kidding me?!!! Nurse. nurse. nurse. Pat. pat. pat. Plead and beg. Somewhere in time, some point I cannot decifer, sleep saved me...just in time for MARK'S ALARM! Man, I'm telling you. There are times when time isn't enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-7958891406219534758?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/7958891406219534758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=7958891406219534758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/7958891406219534758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/7958891406219534758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/sweet-dreams.html' title='Sweet Dreams'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-1485485834864646830</id><published>2007-06-05T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T15:34:06.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>unkilling my son</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;So I'm sitting here at the computer and my daughter comes in very upset. She tells me Tyler needs me NOW as she's breaking down, losing composure, she tells me he can't breathe and he's choking...tears are streaming. I jump up, leap across the back lawn, slide over the trampoline to his position...everyone is around Tyler in a reverenced hush; he's on his back, tears welling in  his eyes and on both sides of the bridge of his nose, face red...good news; he's crying--making sound--he can breathe. Whew! Where's the pain? In his throat and chest. What happened? Eliana and Tyler were wrestling on the trampoline and she busted his chops--so's to speak, but she came up on him and wacked him in the throat and chest in one swoop.  Now I see what HER deal was...she thought she killed her brother.  Poor girl!  Poor boy! He thought she killed him, too! (Not really, he just hurt a lot.) I told him Eliana was really upset and crying, then asked him if he was angry with  her: NO...he said, "no".  He's growing so much. It used to be whenever he got hurt he would be angry at any person involved, blaming that person for the pain and choosing to take it out on that person--accident or no accident. Now, my son has perspective. He's growing. Eliana is feeling better, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Guess who's on the trampoline?!?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-1485485834864646830?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/1485485834864646830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=1485485834864646830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/1485485834864646830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/1485485834864646830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/unkilling-my-son.html' title='unkilling my son'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-7447876352199591215</id><published>2007-06-05T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T13:04:56.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All together</title><content type='html'>So we have nine of the ten children with us now; just waiting for Austin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Mark and I drove to the east side of Wyoming to pick up Catelynn, Gabriel, Kaylee, and Nicholas plus the puppy, "Cheetoe" and the chinchilla, "Chinchy" who has now been renamed, "Chinchalada" because Gabe thinks it sounds better.  Funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip was relatively easy and uneventful. We had one not-so-nice thing in Rawlins; we went into a gas station for a potty break and returned to our white van with some...well, "add-ons" in red ink to the hood and it was "colorful" if you know what I mean. Grrrr....thank goodness for Shaklee Basic H! I don't know what people are thinking. Oh well, now I know in a pich, Basic H will take enough ink of the hood of a baking car that you'll be satisfied until you can get some rubbing alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mykayela did really well on the trip. She tolerated the day of driving so well. I'm impressed by our little miracle girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark is so different when all the children are together...much more at peace. He loves his babies so much! I wish they could all stay here all of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is in love with Catelynn's puppy! Even the other dogs tolerate him. Cheetoe is short, fat, and solid black. He has a fun personality and sounds like a tasmanian devil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the last week getting ready for the other children; getting new furniture for everyone and rearranging things so they'd be comfortable, I think all-in-all they like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago a family in our church gave us a trampoline: Angels in heaven swelled in a unified chorus singing praises to the most high in sight of this wonderful deed! All of the children have been so happy jumping and bouncing there little hind ends off in shifts. I love seeing them work together and having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been to the park twice now for lunch. There are some trees there with white blossoms that the children like to suck on. There's a sweet liquid they like to taste so they were attacking those poor trees and "sucking them dry" just as they did last summer. Crazy little people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend the girls and I are going to have a party for Eliana's birthday while the boys go camping. This house is going to be busting with girls...if I wasn't the Mom I'd probably run the the mountain with the boys! We're all going to have fun. The girls will be playing all kinds of games, having and Cookie Lee party, dressing up, telling stories, watching movies, dancing, etc...the boys will be roasting marshmellow, roasting hotdogs, and bring back fish to fry.  Yeah, us!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my family. Waiting for Austin and we'll be complete!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-7447876352199591215?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/7447876352199591215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=7447876352199591215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/7447876352199591215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/7447876352199591215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/06/all-together.html' title='All together'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3299394756830239702.post-3720917836473189899</id><published>2007-05-30T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T15:42:07.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Awesome Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;After 18 years of being the best of friends; having been school mates, high school sweethearts, moving on in different directions, the two of us have come together and become a family of 12.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;See here: a beautiful, happy family&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rl37ivtmLVI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZZHbFGOfPQk/s1600-h/our+family.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070485329830882642" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rl37ivtmLVI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZZHbFGOfPQk/s320/our+family.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rl38SvtmLWI/AAAAAAAAABI/6USGD7PWvVk/s1600-h/the+real+thing+hehehe.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070486154464603490" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rl38SvtmLWI/AAAAAAAAABI/6USGD7PWvVk/s320/the+real+thing+hehehe.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each of these guys are so awesome!  They're so similar yet so different to each other.  I have been extremely blessed to be given the opportunity to be a Mom (or step-) to each one of these amazing people. The teach me everyday. I am so Lucky... no, no...not lucky...I am BLESSED! I love you guys (and gals).  We have a perfect 10!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3299394756830239702-3720917836473189899?l=2makes10.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/feeds/3720917836473189899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3299394756830239702&amp;postID=3720917836473189899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3720917836473189899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3299394756830239702/posts/default/3720917836473189899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://2makes10.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-awesome-family.html' title='My Awesome Family'/><author><name>Regina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08677435095605989290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_DjA6bevGHQw/Rl37ivtmLVI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZZHbFGOfPQk/s72-c/our+family.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
